Page 51 of The Cottage on Plum Island
“Yes, and me too.” Jennifer nodded as Harley pulled into a parking space.
Thirty-five minutes later, Harley was on his way to the dining room. His and Jennifer’s rooms were on the same floor, so he stopped by her door and knocked. When she answered it, the scent of jasmine and fresh soap tantalized his nostrils and sent a zing through his nervous system.
She looked beautiful in a sleeveless deep blue satin cowl neck top, loose flowing white cotton pants, and wedge heels that matched the color of her top. Her hair was loose and bounced straight and neat to her shoulders. She had a slight touch of mascara on her long eyelashes and a light pink gloss on her lips.
“You look lovely.” Harley’s voice was gruff and low.
“Thank you.” Jennifer smiled, closing her room door and hooking her arm through his. “You don’t look too bad yourself. I don’t think I’ve seen you in cotton slacks, a button-down shirt, and a jacket.”
“That’s not true,” Harley told her. “I wore something similar to Alex’s dinner party.”
“Sorry, I forgot.” Jennifer pressed the elevator button. “How’s your room?”
“Awesome,” Harley replied. “And yours?”
“Very grand,” Jennifer told him as they entered the elevator.
During dinner, Harley and Jennifer spoke about their careers, childhood, and what was next for them. It was great getting to know Jennifer and seeing her so relaxed. Every time she laughed, the sound seemed to warm his heart. Harley couldn’t help but notice how the light danced in her eyes or glinted off her shiny hair.
He walked her to the door, feeling deflated that the night was over. When they were outside Jennifer’s room, she turned to thank him for being there for a wonderful evening. Their eyes locked, and Harley didn’t know who moved first, but the next thing he knew, his lips crushed hers as he pulled her against him. She wound her arms around his neck.
Harley had no idea how long they were lost in each other until the ding of the elevator down the hall dropped them back into reality. They stepped apart and stood blinking at each other in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken emotions. The intensity of the kiss lingered between them.
Harley’s voice was a low, husky murmur, breaking the charged silence. “I should go. We have to be at the hospital early tomorrow.”
She nodded, her eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions. There was gratitude, desire, and vulnerability that resonated with Harley’s inner turmoil. As they stood there, the distant click of the tea trolley kept them grounded in reality.
“Goodnight, Harley,” Jennifer whispered, her gaze still locked with his.
Harley nodded, his chest tightening with a mixture of conflicting emotions. He knew he should turn and go, but it was like his leg had taken root on the spot, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
“Good evening,” the server greeted them as he passed by.
Harley looked at the man. “Good evening,” he said as he heard the click of Jennifer’s door unlocking.
He turned and watched her slip inside, giving him a small wave with her fingers before closing it. Harley stood alone in the dim hallway, her lips’ imprint still tingling on his. He smiled as he turned and walked down the hallway to his suite. Pulling out his phone, he saw a missed call from Uncle Sam.
Harley had called him early and left a message for him to call back. He hit redial, and Sam answered after a few rings.
“Harley, son, is everything okay?” Sam asked, his voice laced with concern. “Your message said call me as soon as possible.”
“Hi, Uncle Sam,” Harley greeted his uncle as he let himself into his suite. “I need to know what you meant the other day when you said that it’s not Andrew you’re worried but what he brings with him?”
Sam went quiet before answering. “You don’t want to get involved with Andrew and his family, son,” he warned. “Stay out of it and keep Jennifer as far away from her father and grandparents as possible.”
“Why?” Harley persisted.
“Because Andrew’s father is an evil man with connections in very high places,” Sam told him. “Judge Pearce Gains is not someone you want to mess with.”
“Why does that name sound so familiar to me?” Harley frowned.
“Probably because he’s good friends with your ex-wife, Angela Wesley’s, family,” Sam told him.
Suddenly, Harley knew who Sam was talking about. His eyes narrowed. “Angela’s mother didn’t like the man.”
“No one did,” Sam told him. “But they pretended to. No one wants to get on the bad side of a judge with some higher powers in his pocket.”
CHAPTER 11
