SEAL’s Love by Leslie North

21

“So,” Serenity said the following week. They were having lunch together at one of Harper’s favorite little quirky bistros a few blocks away from the Team Oracle offices. “Want to tell me the truth about why you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”

Harper looked up from her kale and arugula salad and scrunched her nose. “I do not look like that.”

“Trust me, as someone who’s stared at your sad sack face since we got back from the island, you most definitely do.”

“Shut up.” Harper chewed a mouthful of greens, doing her best to look happy and failing. Okay. Fine. Maybe she was down in the dumps a bit, but who wouldn’t be? She’d been on the verge of saying “I love you”—and really meaning it—for the first time in her life, and the guy she’d wanted to say it to had…put her on hold. Still, she shouldn’t dump it on her sister. “Sorry. I’ve just got a lot going on right now.”

“You mean with Colin?” Serenity raised a dark brow at her, always far too perceptive for anyone’s good. When Harper didn’t respond, she reached over and patted her arm. “Don’t worry. I know it’s him. The way you guys look at each other, all brooding and longing and full of yearning, it’s obvious there’s something there.”

“Yeah.” Harper snorted. “Something. Too bad I ruined it.”

“Ruined it?” Now it was Serenity’s turn to frown. “How?”

“Because when he told me he loved me, I panicked. I pushed him away. Then when I finally realized I felt the same, it was too late. He didn’t want to hear it from me.”

Serenity finished her last bite of rosemary and sundried tomato focaccia, then sat back so the waiter could clear her empty plate. “Right. Well, as someone who’s older and much wiser than you,” Serenity started, then ducked and laughed as Harper tossed a balled-up napkin at her head.

“One year,” Harper said. “You’re one year older than I am. Hardly makes you wiser.”

“Fine. Maybe not, but I know you. I know that you have always shied away from forever because of Mom.”

Harper thanked the waiter for refilling her green tea, then said, “You have to admit she wasn’t the best role model for anything long term, relationship-wise.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Serenity agreed, sitting forward to take her hand. “And I know that hurt you, a lot.”

Harper knew Serenity was right, even if the pain was one she’d tried to ignore and forget over the years, telling herself she had no issues stemming from her unconventional childhood. “Do you remember back when we were kids? I had an event at school one night, a father-daughter thing.”

“Was that right after Mom broke up with David?”

“Yep.” Harper took a deep breath, letting the painful memories wash over her. “They’d dated for two years. That was a lifetime in Mom’s world. I thought maybe he’d stick around. I actually invited him to come to the father-daughter thing with me, thinking I’d finally be like all the other kids in my class.”

“Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

Harper gave a sad chuckle. “I was devastated when Mom told me they’d broken up. I lashed out at her, asked her why she couldn’t just stick with one man and get married like a normal person. You know what she told me?”

Serenity didn’t say anything, just shook her head.

“She said that a relationship doesn’t need to last forever to be good and meaningful. That she’d rather have a dozen short, good relationships than be stuck in a miserable one for life.”

“She wasn’t completely wrong—but she wasn’t completely right, either. There’s nothing the matter with short relationships as long as that’s what everyone involved wants. But there’s nothing wrong with having a long-term commitment, either. She was just gun-shy about marriage because of grandma and grandpa. Remember how they fought all the time?”

“Yeah.” Harper looked up, blinked hard against the sting in her eyes. She’d cried more in the last week than she had ever in her life before, and she was tired of it. She wasn’t the weepy type, dammit. She should be out of tears by now, but apparently not. “Anyway, she said that in our little family, we were bold, happy adventurers. And the older I got, the more I believed that. Maybe I wanted it to be true. Maybe it was true, for a while. I don’t know.” She sat back and sighed. “What I had mostly worked for me. Good for now was good enough. Until it wasn’t.”

“Oh, honey.” Serenity squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry. You really love Colin, don’t you?”

“I do,” she said, before dissolving into tears. It was appalling. It was embarrassing. It was strangely cathartic, being out there and open with her feelings and not caring what anyone thought. She’d always been a rebel when it came to her life choices and her style. Now she was rebelling with her heart too. “I still can’t quite believe in forever,” she said between sniffles, “but I believe in Colin. I believe in us, together. And if there’s a possibility that we could be happy loving each other forever, then it’s a risk worth taking for me. Except he’s gone. Back to his life outside the agency. I don’t even have his address.”

“Maybe not, but I bet one of the guys could give it to you.”

“I don’t know.” Harper dabbed her face with a napkin. “Would it be too weird to ask?”

“After everything you two have been through, I’d say it would be weird not to.”

Once she’d gotten herself back under control, with the help of her sister and a shared hot fudge sundae, they headed back to the office. Harper’s head felt fuzzy and stuffed with too many ideas and feelings. Should she ask Logan for Colin’s address? Should she just let it go and let fate play out as it was supposed to? Should she call for a therapy appointment because she’d gone completely off the deep end here?

All three sounded equally viable at the moment.

They walked back into Team Oracle Security to find Hope at her desk, Reese sitting on her lap and munching on dry Cheerios while Hope took a call on her headset. Logan was visible through the wall of glass in his office, working on his computer.

“Well, I should get home,” Serenity said, hugging Harper. then pointing toward Logan’s office. “Go talk to him, then call me later and tell me what happened.”

Harper hugged her sister once more, then stowed her purse in the locked drawer at the receptionist desk before taking a deep breath, pulse pounding and blood racing. “Here goes nothing.”

Except, before she made it halfway there, a voice from the shadows stopped her cold.

“Hey.”

Colin.

Her heart stumbled, then galloped harder than a thoroughbred at the Derby.

She headed over to where he was standing near Greg’s desk, though Greg was nowhere in sight, currently out of the office on a new assignment.

Her throat felt tight and she didn’t trust her voice just then, but managed to croak out, “What are you doing here?”

Colin leaned his hips back against the edge of the desk. Damn. The man was fine. Even just standing there in everyday clothes, jeans and a T-shirt and sneakers, hair tousled and a hint of stubble on his jaw. She wanted to run her hands through that hair, lick that stubble, never let him go.

He cleared his throat and stared down at his shoes, apparently as nervous as she was, which made her ache even more for him. “Uh, I just came by to say that I’ve been an idiot, Harper. After what happened at the compound, I tried to give you space. I thought you needed it. That we both needed it. Hell, it was even my idea that we talk later.” He tossed his hands up in exasperation, then dragged one through his hair, messing it up even more. It was getting long. Needed a cut. She didn’t mind the extra length, thought he looked amazing no matter what. He shook his head and continued, staring out the window now. “But I’m sorry. I can’t wait anymore, Harper. I need to know if there’s any hope for us. I love you. Always have, always will. Just as you are.” He pushed off the desk and walked over to her, taking her hands, his expression earnest. “I don’t care if we never get married. All I care about is making you happy. I just love you and want to spend as much of my future with you as possible.”

Colin reached into his back pocket and pulled something out. It felt cold and hard when he put it in her palm, and it took Harper a second to realize it was an Aurora Amethyst, just like the ones she and her sister had, only smaller.

Harper looked at it, then up at him, tears blurring her vision once more.

“Look, darlin’. I don’t want to change who you are. I love who you are. But your instincts pointed you toward me once.” He moved closer, closing her hand around the crystal with his own, both of them holding it together. “You told me once that the rule is you can’t lie when you hold these crystals, so please believe what I’m saying now. I’ll work hard, do whatever I have to do to make sure those instincts of yours stay pointed at me, Harper. Now and always. Will you give me a second chance?”

Unable to hold back her sobs anymore, she burst into tears openly for the second time that day. Had to be a record. But this time, they were tears of joy. Harper found herself smiling like an idiot, not caring who saw it. All that mattered was that Colin was here. Now. Wanting to be with her. It was all she ever needed.

She nodded, sniffling, swiping the back of her free hand over her damp cheeks, probably looking a wreck, but still not caring. “Yes. Of course I’ll give you a second chance. I love you.” Then she laughed. “But just so you know, you’ll probably have to give me a second, third, fourth, maybe even fifth chance too, because I have no clue how to do all the stuff that makes love last for a lifetime. I just know that with you, I want to try.”

Then Colin was there, kissing her, the crystal pressed between them like a beacon of truth and hope for their future. Cheers and applause rang out from Logan and Hope and the others in the office. Even Reese clapped and giggled.

“All right, all right,” Logan said eventually, breaking them apart. “Enough of that. This is a place of business after all. Let’s at least try to get some work done this afternoon.” He started back to his office, then stopped in the doorway and looked back at them. “And no making out at Harper’s desk either.”

“Damn,” Colin said. Harper and Hope laughed, and all was right with her world.