Open Your Heart (Kings Grove #4) - Delancey Stewart Page 0,38

blood.

I searched for the strength to tell her to stay, to have fun. Instead I found an image of the two of us sharing the dark cab of my truck on the short drive home, her energy pulsing around me, filling me with an almost unfamiliar sensation—hope.

“Sure,” I said. “Ready?”

I settled Harper into the cab of the truck, and soon enough we were ensconced in the quiet darkness, the hum of the motor creating a soothing purr as I drove.

“That was nice,” Harper said, leaning her head back against the seat. “It’s strange,” she continued. “This should be one of the most stressful times of my life. I’m broke, essentially homeless, forced to approach reconstructing a completely dysfunctional relationship with my dad, and worried about a business deal I really want to take advantage of, but which might disappear at any moment if I don’t get down to Austin soon enough. And yet…” Harper trailed off.

“Yet what?” I asked, wishing for the sound of her voice as soon as it was gone.

“Yet I feel happy. Calm. Peaceful, even.”

I smiled at her. I liked thinking that Harper was happy. I barely knew the woman, and still I didn’t like to think of her sad. “Good,” I said.

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Living with a curse has to be pretty stressful.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

“It’s not a joke.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It is,” I confirmed. “I worry all the time. I want to keep my sister close, go down and check on my dad, make sure he’s okay. But then I tell myself they might actually be better if I stay away, keep my distance.”

“But you’ve loved Maddie all your life and she’s fine.”

“For now.”

“Everyone dies sometime, Cam.”

She was right. I knew she was right. “I know.” I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, and she must have sensed it because she didn’t say another word until we’d pulled into the dark driveway beside her house.

Without speaking, I stepped out and went around the car to open her door.

Harper stepped out of the car, the cab light shining behind her, illuminating the curves of her body, shining through the edges of her thick blond hair. I wanted to touch her right then, had to fight the urge to take a strand of that hair and rub it between my fingers. I wanted to pull her close, so I stepped away.

She closed the door and shouldered her bag, and we walked together up the path to the front steps of the house.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said quietly, turning to face me again.

“You’re welcome,” I managed, but words were hard because every ounce of energy I had was being expended to keep myself in check. I’d known Harper a few short days. We’d played some cards. There was no precedent in the world I could point to as defense if I were to suddenly pull her to me and kiss her.

She turned and stepped on the first riser, but then spun around and came back down. She moved in close in the darkness and her hand came up to cup my face, the warmth of her palm on my jaw sending my mind spinning.

“Cam?” she breathed.

I didn’t move, didn’t respond. The stillness of my exterior, I hoped, was hiding the chaotic turmoil going inside me—in my heart, my mind, my entire body—as I fought the urge to pull her into my arms and relieve the aching loneliness I didn’t even know I’d felt so acutely until Harper had arrived.

“You’re not cursed,” she said softly.

And maybe it was because I’d needed someone to say that to me, maybe it was because I wanted it to be true. Maybe it was just because there was something about Harper that was the opposite of death, the opposite of the macabre darkness that filled me when I thought about the trail of desolation behind me. But I gave up fighting in that moment, let my guard slip. And I leaned into her hand, my own arms going around her, one hand burying itself in her luscious thick hair.

For a long second, we hovered there, suspended in anticipation as our lips remained just millimeters apart. I could feel her shaking in my arms, feel her heart thudding inside her small body. I could feel how human, how alive, and therefore, how vulnerable she was. But I couldn’t help myself. I pressed my lips to hers and took what she offered. Reassurance, contentment, warmth