Page 70 of Deathmarch
“Bubble bath,” Wendy said, straightening up the largest bag. “I figured Harper would think himself too manly to keep any around. And I brought a fuzzy Donna Karan robe I got at a shoot yesterday.” She measured up Allie. “It might be a little too long on you, but that’s even better, right? More warmth. I also brought some fashion magazines in case you’re bored.”
“I brought romance novels.” Sophie grinned. “Very, very dirty. Don’t tell Bing.”
Allie blinked at them, more than a little dazed. But when she said, “Thank you,” this time, her voice rang sure. “What have I done to deserve this?”
Sophie laughed. “Harper brought you home! We were dying to meet you. You’re not mad at us for popping in, are you? We thought any woman living with Harper in his bachelor pad would need some feminine comforts.”
“I’m not exactly living with him.”
They exchanged a look. Right. Nobody was buying that.
“Thank you,” Allie said again. “Please, sit down. Anything to drink?” She cringed. “Sorry. Nothing in the fridge but milk and beer.”
“That’s all right. No time anyway. Just wanted to check on you. On our way to pick up the kids.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Be warned. When you’re a mother, every time you’re having fun— No…just as you’reaboutto have fun, like before it even begins, a little voice in your head saystime to pick up the kids. And then you’ll have to run off, no matter how much you want to pump someone for gossip.”
Allie laughed. She couldn’t help herself.
Wendy pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to her. “Our phone numbers. Please, call if we can help with anything. Or if you just need to have a girl talk.”
“We’re ready to hear all of Harper’s dirty secrets,” Sophie added in a tone brimming with hope. “Maybe we could go out for coffee next week?”
“Do you think you could be bribed to give another performance before you leave?” Wendy asked. “The first one was amazing. I checked your website. I’d love to see more. Sometimes, for a shoot, I have to get into character, but it’s nothing like what you do. I could have listened to you all night.”
“You were at the show?”
“Back row. Came in late. Sorry. Babysitter was running behind.”
The women stayed a few more minutes, asking Allie about reenacting, about her past with Harper, about her intentions with Harper…
When they left, Allie felt as if she’d been twirled around by a whirlwind. And…welcomed. Like she’d felt at Shannon’s B and B. Like she’d felt when Harper had carried her into his apartment.
She was still thinking about that when Harper strode in a few minutes later with a tray of food. Seeing him with his badge clipped onto his belt still knocked her sideways every time.Detective Harper Finnegan.
He had brackets around his mouth that weren’t usually there. His blue eyes had a tired slant. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him do anything but work, from clearing roads with his own truck the night he’d run into her, to unending police business since.
His life probably wasn’t always like this—hewasin the middle of a murder case—but right now, it had to be exhausting. He looked knackered.
She’d had a rough week, but so had he. And he still managed to take care of her. She wasn’t sure she was ready for how that made her feel, some gooey weirdness in the middle of her chest.
He glanced at the gift bags Allie had moved to an empty corner. “Who was here?”
“Mrs. and Mrs. Claus.”
“Santa is two-timing? Naughty. I always thought if anything could crack all that marital bliss on the North Pole, it’d be Mrs. Santa with those elves.”
Allie laughed. “Wendy and Sophie came by. They decided to replay Christmas and pretend they both drew my name from the Secret Santa hat.”
“They are good women. Frankly, they could have done better. Who would willingly marry a policeman?”
Allie gave a theatrical shudder while she said, “They gave me the impression they could handle whatever came their way.”
“You’d be right about that,” he told her, then added, “I brought lunch. Coffee too. Sorry, my coffeemaker is broken. I keep forgetting to replace it.”
“How are you still alive?”
“I get my coffee either downstairs or at the station.” He stopped in front of the couch she’d commandeered for the morning. “I come bearing good news.”
She sniffed the tantalizing aromas in the air. “You’re not fooling me. You come bearing ten thousand calories. By the time I leave Broslin, all I’ll be fit to reenact is the dance of the blue whale.”
