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She snorts. "Let’s see. Gerrard said: ‘About damn time.’ Lucien gave his usual insightful comment: ‘She’s damn cute.’ Jean followed that up with: ‘We got any more damn beer?’ And that was the end of it."

I laugh, imagining the scene. But one brother, the most important one, wasn’t mentioned. If I don’t meet Robie’s approval, I don’t stand a ghost of a chance. "And Robie?"

"He said: ‘damn lucky.’ And he was right."

If I’m going to say it, I had better say it now before we end up doing other things. Because, I really want to do other things. All night long. Despite the fact her parents are here in the house. "Harper, I -"

"Kels, I -" she says at the same time.

We both laugh. "Jinx," I whisper.

"Ladies first," Harper replies, squeezing me gently.

Okay, it’s now or never. "I love you."

Her hands stop their movement and I feel her go taut under me. Oh God, did I just screw up? Please, please, no! Let this be all right. Please.

She releases a deep breath and replies, "Jinx."

* * *

I am a total jerk.

Picture a jerk, and you’ll see me. Big as life. Smiling stupidly.

"Jinx." What the hell kinda reply is that? I mean, did I see the movie ‘Ghost’ one too many fucking times? At least I didn’t say ‘ditto.’ I’d have to kill myself then.

I’m a coward.

I should ask Kels if she can find any feathers on my body.

"God, Harper, that was wonderful," the subject of my thoughts sighs, snuggling up against me.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tight against me. It was amazing, but, every time with her is. She is simply inspirational.

And I am simply a jackass.

She kisses the base of my throat. Once. Twice. Three times. "What’s wrong?" she asks, concern coloring her voice.

"What?" I play dumb. Not hard. I am dumb.

"Harper, something is obviously bothering you. I know how you usually react to me." She starts to pull away from me.

I won’t let her go. I roll us over, so I am looking down at her. Gently, I comb her hair back from her face. Her skin is still damp from our lovemaking, her lips bruised from my kisses. "I owe you an apology."

"You do?"

I nod and summon up all my courage. This is ridiculous. It shouldn’t be this hard. "I do. A little while ago when you said you loved me …"

"Yes?" she purrs, I suppose recalling what we did immediately after that particular declaration. "You certainly don’t have anything to apologize for. At least, as far as I’m concerned."

"Well, of course not," I counter, needing to keep up my reputation.

"So why do you owe me an apology?"

"Because I didn’t tell you how I felt. Not really." I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. When I open them again, all I see is her gentle gaze. "I am so in love with you I can’t think straight. I get scared because I’ve never felt this way, with anyone. Outside of my family, I’ve never even said ‘I love you’ to anyone. Ever."

"You don’t have to be afraid of me, Harper."

"I love you, Kelsey Diane Stanton."

I am rewarded with the sweetest kiss of my lifetime.

* * *

Harper is sound asleep next to me, her arm draped over my waist. We spent most of the night making love, really making love. Not that the other times weren’t. It’s just that this time it was different, more intense, more real. I guess it has something to do with the fact we both finally found the courage to admit how we feel.

It is a wonderful feeling too.

I have to share it with my best friend in the world. I glance over at the clock. Oh, who cares if it’s only four a.m. in L.A.? I sure don’t.

I manage to slide out of Harper’s grasp, getting a grumpy protest, but she sleeps through it. As I pull on my robe, I lean over and give her a little kiss. Damn, this feels good. I’m going to enjoy this for the rest of my life.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and give old Erik the wake up call of his life. The little shit better be home.

Settling down with my tea and the phone, I punch in the never ending stream of numbers that make up my home phone number and my calling card number. I remember when making a damn phone call was easy.

It rings about three times before his very groggy voice is heard on the other end.

"Somebody better be dead," he growls. His voice is about an octave deeper in the morning and sounds like sandpaper running over plywood.

"And good morning to you, too, Sunshine."

"Jesus, Kels, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Six a.m."

"What part of the fucking world are you in?"

"New Orleans."

"Again? Geez, you’re spending a lot of time there."

"Yes, and I would imagine I’ll be spending a great deal of time in my future here too."

"That good?"

"Better than good. It’s great." I pause and then speak the words I never expected to say again. And certainly not with Harper as the object of the sentence. "I’m in love, Erik."

"I know, sweetheart. I’m happy for you. So how’s old Harper doing?"

Old Harper? This is a new development. It almost sounds like he can tolerate her presence in my life. "She’s great. She’s better than great she’s … umm …"

"Phenomenalwonderfulsuperb."

"All right, you little shit, knock it off!"

His laughter is music to my ears. "I’m happy for you, Kels. I really am."

"She loves me too," I tell him. It makes it more real when someone else knows, I think. "She told me that last night."

"No shit! She said that? She really said the three dreaded words."

"Loud and clear."

"Damn. Well, congratulations, Kelsey Stanton. You tamed Harper Kingsley."

"I hope to hell not." I laugh. "Personally, I’m rather fond of her wild side."

"Hot monkey sex?" He adds a little chimp noise at the end of his question.

"The hottest," I confirm. I can still feel her touch from last night. I think her handprints are seared onto my skin. Those are the kind of tattoos I don’t mind having.

"Ooo must be nice."

"It is." And now that it’s been mentioned … hmm … time to get off the phone. "Listen, there are lots of other fun and exciting developments I want to fill you in on, but not right now."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, wake me up at four in the morning and then go have sex. Thanks, Kels, love you too."

I chuckle, surprised at how deep the sound is coming from me. Oh my. She is inspiring. "I’ll see you tomorrow. When I get home, we’ll go out and celebrate."

"Absolutely."

"I love you, Erik."

His voice is gentle and warm, just like his heart. "Love you too, Kels. Be careful and I’ll see you tomorrow."

Hanging up the phone, it strikes me as funny that I had no desire to fill him in on the New York offer, only my relationship with Harper. Maybe my priorities are shifting. Or maybe a couple million dollars a year isn’t competition for really good sex.

Oh well. Change is good. In this case, very good.

Off to the bedroom.

* * *

I bound down the stairs and hustle into the kitchen. Mama is cooking at the stove. "Couri pas dans la maison," she scolds.

No running indoors. Some things never change. "Morning, Mama." I squeeze her around the waist and plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

"Oh, someone had a good night last night."

"Mama! Stop that!" I release her. "Do you want me to be in therapy for the rest of my life? I mean, can you not be open-minded about one thing in life?"

"Ah, shush. Other people pray to have parents like your Papa and I," she says this with a smile to take the sting out of her words. It transforms into an evil smirk. "And you have nothing to be embarrassed about from what I understand."