Page 129 of Shortcake
“Oh yes. Not that I need it. Not with Teddy’s money. He’s ofroyalblood, you know.”
Of fucking course he was.
Meghan tapped her fingers to her belly. “Which is how little Duke here got his name.”
I couldn’t hide my cringe. “You’re naming him Duke?”
It wasn’t so much that the name was bad. Duke was a cool name for a boy… but not if you were doing it as a way to try to signify you were of royal blood. Duke the Duke? I mean, come on. I can’t be the only one who thought that was lame as hell.
“A brother,” Harper said, seeming dazed. “I’m going to have a brother. And you’re married?”
Whatever tears she had been holding back, released finally, flowing freely down her cheeks.
My baby girl.
I rushed forward, sweeping Harper into my arms just in time to catch her before she collapsed into tears. Barely able to stand, I held her up.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” I murmured, kissing her hair. “Let it out.”
Behind me, I felt Addy’s hand rest between my shoulder blades. When I opened my eyes, she was there beside us. Not hugging either of us. Not trying to impose. Simply standing there. Offering her hand. Offering her support. While her own silent tears streamed down her cheeks.
Meghan, on the other hand, covered her mouth, standing within a few feet of Harper, her own flesh and blood. And didn’t reach out to touch her. Comfort her. Console her. “Oh no. What did I say?”
“Meghan,” I hissed. I didn’t even know what to say to her in response. She was so fucking tone deaf.
“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding?!” Harper shouted, pushing out of my arms.
“It… it was sudden,” Meghan stammered, taking a step back. “Not exactly planned.”
“I hate you!” Harper screamed, storming off. “I hate all of you!”
Footsteps stomped up the stairs until I heard the familiar slam and lock of her door once more.
“I really need to remove that lock from her door,” I whispered.
* * *
After pacingthe kitchen for an hour and attempting to talk to Harper through her door, Addy finally convinced me to go to work and give her some time to cool off.
Meghan had run off with the lame excuse to check into her hotel room. Which, honestly, was for the best.
It was hard enough on Harper finding out about Addy and me… add to that this shit with her mother? The timing couldn’t be worse. And Meghan wasn’t equipped to deal with this. She barely knew Harper.
She didn’t know that Harper bit her cuticles until she literally bled when she was anxious. She didn’t know that tomato soup and grilled cheese was her preferred meal when she wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t know that Harper loved milk chocolate, but detested dark chocolate.
And while I had been a firm believer that it was never too late to try and build back a relationship… today’s drama might have changed my mind on that.
As much as I had fucked up in not telling Harper about Addy and me? What Meghan did was so much worse—if I were in Harper’s shoes, I don’t know that I could forgive her, either.
So now, hours later, I was on the job. Giving Harper the space she needed.
In the nail salon, Warren and I flanked a cornered raccoon while one of my other cops, Terry, tried to push it toward the safe trap I held open.
Yep, we’d had only three calls today. One was a little fender bender at a stop sign in town which Terry had handled. The second was a wellness check on one of our elderly constituents, which Warren and I went to together.
And this was the third. A stray raccoon that had gotten into the nail salon.
Apparently, Maple Grove Animal Control was a twenty-minute drive into the campgrounds of town, so usually we were the first on the scene in cases like this. So much so, that we kept several safe catch and release traps at the station.
