Where We Go From Here (Phoenix Falls, #3)

by Sapphire Hale

No more men, ever.

He sounds like a heartbreaker.

a secret look behind his eyes saying that he can read me like a book.

Was it really yesterday that I was saying ‘no more men’? Let me rephrase: no more men, with the exception of this guy.

The little screenwriter in me flips open her notepad and scribbles in a big glittery love heart. This man is a romance story waiting to happen.

I know what men think of me now: I’m a place-holder. A stop along the way. I’m replaceable.

We’re staring like we hate each other. Fine by me.

Even if he had known that someone would be stopping by I don’t think that anything he could have said would have prepared me for this. For her.

“I spent all summer making these doors, changing them from the old ones.” A palm spanning a width larger than my waist hovers tentatively over the plaque, hesitant to touch it. “What’d you stick it on with anyway?” he asks gruffly, a deep crease between his brows. I stuck it on with glitter-glue. “Cement,” I say instead.

“Harper.” His voice is low, restrained. “Did someone touch you?”

“No-one gets away with that kind of shit on my site. He’s not on my crew so he shouldn’t even be here. I’m getting that asshole out of here and I’m gonna make sure that he doesn’t come back.” “Mitchell, really, it’s–” “Don’t say it,” he growls. “Do not say that it’s okay.”

I’m a helpless damsel. I’m a trope from one of my own screenplays. But in this moment I don’t mind being a storybook stereotype.

Somehow I feel as though this changes everything.

I shouldn’t care. She isn’t even mine. But the thought of what just happened to her instantly made me flip the switch.

The set of my jaw states my intentions loud and clear. Touch her again and I’ll break your neck.

She was scared of the guy in the van? Fuck. Now the last thing that I want is for her to stay out of my way. I want her in my way. I need her close by, so that I can keep on looking out for her.

Motels are cheap and I’ll be making sure that the heir to Pine Hills is out of harm’s way.

“I can afford your groceries, Harper. Fill up that basket.”

Mitch didn’t give me forty dollars. He gave me four hundred.

I wish that she’d open the curtains so I could just know that she got back safe. And alone. The thought of her pulling open those curtains and then seeing a guy cosying up right behind her is enough to make me slam the door harder than I usually would as I leave the office.

I wipe my hand down my jaw. Fuck it. I need to see that she’s alright.

I’m sweating and shivering on his beautiful cotton quilt and the only concern on his face is that I get well soon. He doesn’t care that I literally vomited for half of the car journey and he’s gotten over the fact that when I first met him I was a pain in the ass. For a second I consider telling him everything – why I came to Pine Hills and how infatuated I have become with him

“You want honesty? Okay baby. When I came over tonight I was going to ask you on a date.”

Harper is upstairs sleeping on my bed and I’m on the rug in the living room because I’m too big for the sofa.

“You remembered?” she asks,

“I remember everything you say to me.”

My hands are tingling, the feel of her touching me, consoling me, spreading through my veins like a drug. Fuck alcohol – give me this every night and I’ll be high for the rest of my life.

All that I know is that her hands are still on mine and I don’t want her to ever let go.

I’m curled up in his passenger seat, watching him like he’s my favourite movie.

He’s the hottest contradiction that I’ve ever seen. Protective yet threatening. Light yet dark.

“I owe you a dance.”

“Couldn’t do it in that room,” he admits gruffly as he closes the gap between us, pressing his hard abs up against my breasts. “But we can do it here, so no-one else gets to see when you…”

“Gonna let me kiss you?” he asks,

Then I subtly nod my head and he makes a low groan of relief. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs quietly, and then he ducks down to press his mouth against mine.

She’s wearing her statement flip-flops-and-short-shorts combination, but it’s even better this time because my jacket is slung around her body, protecting her from the impaling impact of the hailstones. Warm pride spreads through my chest and I almost smile at the sight of her wearing it.

“is that I… I don’t know how this is for you, but for me this is it. The real thing.

And I… I…” I swallow hard, looking deep into her eyes. And then I say it. “I’m in love with you, Harper. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Are you… are you sure?” she whispers, looking imploringly into my eyes. “I want to believe you so bad. I want you to love me. But I just want you to be sure before I let myself believe you.”

“How could I not love you, baby?” I whisper back to her, my voice low beneath the thrum of the water. “I’ve never been more sure about anything. I’m so in love with you that I want to skip past the diamond necklace section and go straight to the diamond rings.”

“I need to know if I’m booking you a one-way ticket out of my life, Harper, or if you’re going to let me keep you. The ticket’s either going to be a one-way or a return, and I don’t know where your head’s at because we haven’t spoken about it. It’s… it’s your choice, Harper.”

He’s spending his free time browsing for engagement rings.

I click on the ticket type and select the word ‘Return’. Suddenly my chair is being pulled back like a reverse husky-sled and I squeal as Mitch spins it around before dropping to his knees.

“You’re staying with me?” he murmurs,

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

“You never heard the phrase ‘what’s mine is yours’?” he asks seriously. “Not only are you going to take my money, you’re going to take my last name.”

He doesn’t seem to realise that I’m melting against him, my breathing getting laboured at how ready he is. To move me up here. To get me into his house. To make me his wife.

“Harper Coleson,” I whisper,

“That… that sounds good,” he says, dipping down so that his mouth is only a millimetre away from mine. “It… it makes it sound like you’re mine.”

“I don’t belong to you,” I whisper

“Tell that to the diamonds I’m about to put around your neck.” In the next second he’s pulling a long box from underneath the stacks of paperwork and my breath is catching in my throat when I see what he’s got. He holds it between us, his eyes on mine, and then gently clicks open the lid, exposing a delicate chain adorned with ten glittering diamonds.