gaze shifting to train on the sugar. “Am I glad I ran into you.”
“Oh?” He wished the sweep of her lashes didn’t fascinate him. And that the fascination didn’t bode trouble. God, how rude would it be to leave before finding what she was glad about?
And how fast would Mad’s sudden departure set the tongues of town wagging? Judging by the heads turned in their direction, he thought pretty fast.
“So,” Harper said now. “I’m heading back to Vegas. Pronto.”
Relief had a bittersweet taste. “Gotta live your life.”
“That’s right,” she said, and raised her eyes to his. “Gotta live my life. Like you’re living yours.”
His brows came together. “Okay.”
“Your tie. I still have it.” She sipped from her drink.
“Go ahead and keep it,” he offered.
Her eyes widened. “I couldn’t!” Then she cleared her throat. “It’s a nice tie. Very…conservative.”
“As you’ve called me more than once.” Right before he showed her the kinks in his imagination.
Her cheeks flushed. “Well.” Turning back to the counter, she added more sugar to her coffee, stirred vigorously. “I met your wife.”
He blinked at the stiff line of her back. “Uh…”
“Still so cute. She told me she’s redecorating the living room and that you hope to put a pool in the backyard this year if she can be convinced a fence around it will be kid-proof.”
“Uh…”
“I told her I’m sure you would always put safety first.”
In the old days, that would be a subtle dig, wielded in an attempt to prod his staid soul into doing something reckless. Sneaking beers into the movies. Having sex in a public place.
“And the twins,” Harper was saying. “I knew you and Courtney would make beautiful children. They sure are something.”
“Ah. Okay. I don’t, I’m not—” Mad snapped his mouth shut. Had she… “You ran into Court?”
“Yep.” Harper turned to face him again. “I was at the irrigation supply store and she had an errand at the feed place. Bunny pellets, she said?”
Right. She thought he’d married Courtney Shields.
“I admit,” Harper went on, “that I never saw you as a bunny man.”
His brain hummed as he tried deciding what to do. “People grow. Change.”
“You tell her how you feel, then?” she muttered.
His gaze sharpened. “What?”
“I’m sure you have a very wonderful marriage,” Harper said. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Happy about what?” Sophie had abandoned her barista position to appear at his elbow, sunny and nosy and about ready to blow his subterfuge. Well, Harper’s subterfuge, since his marriage was his former girlfriend’s idea.
“What’s going on?” Sophie looked between the two of them.
“Harper’s saying her goodbyes,” he told Sophie.
At the same time that Harper said, “I ran into his wife and kids.”
Sophie’s blue eyes flared wide. “What? Mad’s not married!”
He made it to the parking lot and almost to his SUV, assuming that Harper remained in place, her mouth moving like a guppy’s. His hand wrapped the door handle when he heard the rush of footsteps and a voice, raised in mild outrage.
Moderate outrage.
“Maddox Kelly.”
He kept his back turned.
“Why did you do that?” The outrage turned hotter.
“Do what exactly?” He grimaced, because the question was a jerk move, and he knew it. On a swallowed sigh, he turned to face her, Harper Hill, her face flushed in anger.
So beautiful.
Don’t say it, he reminded himself. Don’t say, you’re beautiful when you’re angry.
But she was.
She goddamn was.
Her hands propped on her hips, she glared up at him. “Why did you think it was necessary to make me feel like a fool?”
“That wasn’t… My intention…” This time he sighed aloud. “Look, it seemed easier. I didn’t want to get into explanations.”
Her mulish expression communicated what she thought about that.
“Look, I had no idea you’d even heard of the engagement.”
She glanced to the side. “My mom told me. Years ago.” Then she looked back to him. “In any case, you shouldn’t have let me go on so long. Why did you?”
Christ, he didn’t have an answer.
“Mad?” Fire shot from her eyes.
“Maybe I felt foolish,” he said, then cursed himself for finding it hard to lie now, of all times.
Harper stilled, her head tilted. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe I felt foolish that another relationship hadn’t worked out.”
Instead of eliciting some sympathy, her eyes narrowed and her arms folded across her chest. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
One toe tapped. “Who broke up with who?”
“Whom.”
She sucked in a quick breath. “Whom, then, Captain Grammar.”
“It was mutual.”
She stared at him a long moment. “Nope, don’t believe it. You did. You broke the engagement.”
He kept his mouth shut.
“Fine,” she said, after another minute.