She Loves Me (Harmony Pointe #3) - Melissa Foster Page 0,138

be with Harley. I’m not the most tactful person.”

“Sorry, Piper, but one thing I’ve learned is that we all need to take responsibility for our own actions and clean up our own messes.”

She looked down at Jiggs as Marshall drove away. “Guess you’re spending the night with me.” She tipped her head back and looked up at the dark sky. “Thanks a lot. All I wanted was for Jiggs to pee, not a trip back in time or a look in the mirror.”

Harley felt like he’d opened his mouth beneath a spigot and swallowed a gallon of heartache. He was an idiot. He wished he could take back what he’d said to Piper, even though he’d meant every word of it. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but she was right. He’d made her a promise, and he’d gotten carried away and broken his word to the person who mattered most. Now he might have lost her for good, and that thought made him sick and lonely and so fucking sad he couldn’t see straight.

Harley wanted to go to her, to apologize and do whatever it took to make things right, but he knew better than to defy his girl’s request for space after what he’d done—and he refused not to think of Piper as his girl. She was, and if he had it his way, even if it took years to win her trust back, she’d be by his side forever.

At least she wasn’t alone tonight. She had Jiggs, and while his boy might not be a great wingman, he was a superb companion. He’d seen his pooch slink into Piper’s truck when they were arguing, and he’d thought about calling him back. But then he’d figured Jiggs had sensed that Piper needed him tonight more than Harley did. Jiggs was smart like that. His heart was always in the right place. Harley had expected Piper to turn around and drop Jiggs off right away, which would have given him a chance to apologize, but three hours later, he was still sitting alone on the stoop at Dutch’s, typing messages to Piper, then deleting them.

He pushed to his feet and headed for his truck, but the thought of going home without her to sleep in a bed that would smell like her and feel too empty, or on the couch where she tucked her feet beneath her and rested her head on his shoulder was too much to bear. He turned around and headed back into the pub. The couch in his office would have to do.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

WHERE THE HELL are you, Willow, and why the frick don’t I have a key for emergencies? Piper tried for the third time to pick the lock on the back door of the bakery. Jiggs went paws-up beside her, sticking his nose between her and the door.

“Stop, Jiggsy.” She wiggled the piece of metal she was using to pick the lock, and it broke off. “Fucker.”

She was in no mood for this shit. It was almost four in the morning, and she hadn’t slept a wink. Jiggs had only made it worse. He kept crawling over to Harley’s side of the bed and whining. As if Piper didn’t already miss Harley enough? Every time she’d closed her eyes she’d seen the joy in Harley’s eyes when he’d gotten down on his stupid knee, and the confusion when she’d gotten mad. Confusion! As if he’d lost his freaking mind and forgotten who she was and what she didn’t want.

Damn him.

She stalked to her truck, ignoring the sharp pebbles cutting into her bare feet, and rummaged through her tools, cursing herself for forgetting shoes . . . and pants. She’d gone to bed wearing one of Harley’s T-shirts because she’d wanted to feel closer to him, but she’d gotten frustrated at herself for lying there sad and angry, listening to Jiggs whimper. She’d pulled on one of Harley’s sweatshirts and rolled the sleeves up because it was made for giants. She’d grabbed her keys and her trusty stowaway sidekick, and then she’d bolted, desperately needing to drown her sorrows in sugar.

She snagged a crowbar and stalked back to the door.

Putting one foot against the doorframe, she wedged the crowbar between the lock and the frame and jimmied it with all her might. The sucker was stubborn.

Where was her sledgehammer when she needed it?

Images of Willow’s delicious doughnuts, Loverboys, and cake flew into her mind. Oh yes, cake! With renewed motivation, she forced more pressure,