His hands find my waist once again and he pulls me close and the heat of his body combined with the heat of his stare makes me want to melt into him, make myself part of him, and never let him go. “I can’t promise you we’ll never be apart. It wouldn’t be honest. But I can promise you one thing. If I leave you, I will come back.”
“How long will it take you to come back?” I ask, desperate for something to hold on to. “Give me a number of days. So I can count them.”
He laughs at me and I laugh with him. “Harper.”
“I know it’s stupid, but just give me a number. Five days?”
“Five?” He laughs again, but it’s a hearty laugh. A genuine laugh. Like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Five days.” He breathes the words out. “It’s not very long. I can’t get much of anything done in five days, Harp. How about fourteen?”
“Fourteen!” Now it’s my turn to laugh. Only I’m appalled. “Nick was only ever gone for ten days at the most before we turned eighteen. And I about died of heartbreak that time. And now he’s been gone for three hundred and thirty-four days!”
“Shhhh,” he says to me. “Stop now. Ten days I can promise. OK?”
“I don’t know,” I waffle on the ten days. Ten days feels like forever too…
“Ten days. You can count them.”
“And you won’t be late?” I plead up to him. “You won’t forget?”
“I won’t,” he says as he kisses me once more. His fingertips thread though my hair and he pulls back just enough to whisper in my mouth. “I promise to never be late.”
I sigh with relief. But it’s just a small relief. It’s stupid to ask for this promise because there are so many ways for him to break it. I’m just setting myself up for disappointment and heartbreak.
“OK,” Sasha yells from the living room. “I’m ready.”
James kisses me one more time and then leads me back to the living room.
“I’m so hungry, I want seafood,” I tell him.
“This is the desert. You might have to settle for fish tacos.”
“Oh.” I let the disappointment slip out, but then I recover so my sucky attitude doesn’t ruin our night. “OK, fish tacos are fine.” You’d think I’d have taken advantage of all the fresh seafood while I was living at the beach, but I didn’t frequent any of the nicer dining places. I only ate takeout. I’ve never had a fish taco. We usually ate on the ship when we were in port. But if we did go to a restaurant, it wasn’t the beach huts where one usually finds fish tacos in the tropics. But if that’s all I can get here, I’ll take it.
We pile in to the sweltering Hummer. Sasha complains loudly about the hot leather seats and scoots over to sit on the ‘hump’, which in a Hummer is as big as a table. There should be a nice long bench set in this thing so a person could use it as a bed. But no. Two regular-sized buckets and the table thing in the middle.
“Sasha, sit your ass in a seat,” James barks at her. “And put your seatbelt on.”
She does what he says, but not quietly.
I peek back at her and smile. We feel sort of like a family. James is talking about restaurants as we pull out of the long driveway, then wait for a lone car to pass before turning towards the late afternoon sun and heading into the actual city of Palm Springs. Sasha talks about things kids think about. Things I might have thought about last year, like the shimmer you see on the road off in the distance when it’s hot out or the different types of cactus. Back when I was a kid. Back before I gave up my family for this life of waiting.
I know James is lying about the ten days thing. But he knows, no matter what my head says about it, my heart will believe him once.
And I just have to hold out hope that once is all it will take for him to come back for me.
Chapter Twenty-Three - James
“What’s this place?” Sasha asks as I pull into the Palm Destiny Resort valet.
“What’s it look like?” I ask back. I gauge how much time until sunset and come up with an hour and a half, maybe. Merc could live a little closer to town if you ask me, but whatever. So far Harp and I have not had a proper sunset. But this restaurant is on the top floor and has a view of the pool, palm trees, and the mountains—so it faces west. The perfect sunset is within our grasp. Even if I do have to share it with Smurfette.
“A hotel,” Sasha says dryly. “Why are we at a hotel if we’re going out to eat?”
I look over at Harper as we wait for the valet to finish up with the car in front of us. She said she wants to have dinner with me and celebrate shit. Like families do, that’s the way I took it. And while the Smurf in the back is not part of my plans for the future, she’s a partner for now. So she’s family too. “The lionfish wants seafood, so seafood she shall have.”
“This looks like a place you need reservations, James. I bet we can’t get a table.”
“Reservations. Pfft. Please, Harper. A little bit of faith.” The valets appear, opening doors for the girls, and I get out and shake the hand of the guy on my side. I slip him some cash. “Park it outside where you can see it, please.”
And then I walk around the dirty piece-of-shit Hummer and take Harper’s hand. We’re not dressed up, and the top-floor restaurant typically requires top-floor attire, but they won’t be turning me away. I lead the girls inside and then take them over to a seating area filled with plush couches and chairs. “Watch TV for a sec, will ya? I’ll be right back.” I peck Harp on the cheek and go looking for my contact. I bypass the front desk, the concierge, and all staff wearing anything that resembles the kind of uniform required when you work with customers, and instead head straight for the door that says, Housekeeping, Employees Only.