Page 31 of Harper

“Why didn’t you get up and leave, huh?”

Because I didn’t fucking want to. For the first time in years, I was actually spending time with Harper Stewart. No way in hell I was giving that up for a BBQ at my cousin’s house. Sorry, not sorry.

“Would’ve been rude.”

“Layla said you were three sheets to the wind.”

“Yep. I was,” I say, thinking that Layla Antonov has a big fucking mouth, and the next time I catch her speeding down Main Street, she’s getting a ticket instead of another warning. “But I didn’t break our rule. I wasn’t alone. I was with—”

“Alone would’ve been better than Harper-fucking-Stewart!” Sandra bellows.

“I was gonna say, ‘half the town.’”

“I’m disappointed in you, Joe.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“That’s too bad. I just got to work, Sandra. I gotta go.”

“Well! Don’t come crying to me when—”

I hang up on my cousin before she can finish yelling at me. I’m not in the mood to be chastised today. Aside from a hangover on par with Harper’s, I’m weirdly happy, super anxious, and very fucking confused. In twenty-four hours, I went from nottalking to Harper in ten years, to spending most of yesterday with her.

And that ain’t all, I remind myself. She’s coming over tonight.

Is it wrong that I’m so excited about seeing her again so soon? Is it wrong that—on some level—I’m thinking of tonight like a date?

Yes, Joe, I tell myself. It’s wrong because it’s not a fucking date. She just wants to know what happened last night.

“Morning, boss,” says Aaron Adams, one of my deputies, who appears in my doorway with two mugs of coffee in his huge, mitt-like hands. “Wondering if you’re ready for the rundown? From yesterday?”

I wave Aaron into my office and gesture to the chair in front of my desk.

“Yes, I am. Especially if one of those coffees is for me.”

“Sure is, boss.”

I take a big gulp and sit back in my chair. “Your first big holiday solo. How’d it go?”

“Not bad,” he says, flipping open a notepad. Aaron is a recent graduate from the police academy in Sitka. He’s twenty-one years old, eager to learn, and enthusiastic about being mentored. “We had four reports of public intoxication.”

“To be expected,” I say. “Anyone get overly rowdy?”

“No, sir. Only took warnings to calm things down.”

“Good job. What else?”

“Um…a grandfather doing a shore excursion got separated from his family at one of the parades.”

“Got him reunited with his people?”

“Yessir,” says Aaron, flipping through his notes. “Let’s see…um, lost camera. Lost purse.”

“Either found?”

“No, sir.”

“Too bad.” I shrug. “What else?”

---