“Fine,” she huffs. “No fashion designer, but we’re doing an ice cream bar. I want to see just how hyped up on sugar we can get them, but the moment they start bouncing off the wall, I’m leaving you to deal with the fallout.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
29
KNIGHT
Making my way up the hallway, I stop by the entrance of the kitchen, watching Harper mindlessly go about her morning, getting ready for her first day back at work. It’s almost comical at this point. Generally, people only ever have one first day back at work, yet here Harper is, pouring her coffee into a thermos, preparing for what must be her fourth or fifth first day back in the space of only a few months.
It’s becoming a fucking joke, but as I watch the joy cross Harper’s face, I can’t bring myself to comment on it.
She loves that fucking morgue, and while I’ll never be able to understand it, I’m here for anything that can put a smile on her face like that. Even with all the bullshit that has gone down within the walls of that morgue, being there gives her purpose, and I could never take that away from her.
The morgue’s been closed for well over a week now, and while all priority autopsies have been diverted to the next town over,everything else has been piling up, and I don’t doubt that Harper has her work cut out for her over the coming weeks in order to get back on top of everything.
With Dr. McKullan gone, everything will fall on Harper’s shoulders, though she hasn’t been board-certified yet, so I’m not quite sure who she’s going to answer to over the coming months, but I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when she gets home this evening. Despite that, nothing is going to stop her from getting in, putting her head down, and getting her work done. During the day shifts, she has a whole team to utilize, so I’m sure, given the tools she needs, Harper will have that morgue running like a well-oiled machine in no time.
I go to push off the wall to meet her in the kitchen when the alarm for her meds goes off, and as she makes her way around the island counter, I watch her, completely immersed in everything Harper-Rayn.
She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.
I don’t know how I ever became so lucky. She’s wild and fierce, but docile when she wants to be, and despite knowing every damn thing about her, she never ceases to surprise me.
As she approaches her phone, her fingers swipe across the screen, dismissing the alarm before she stretches up onto her tippy-toes to reach the cabinet above the fridge, her scrub top riding up and showing off a sliver of skin at her hip and making my mouth water.
No amount of tasting her will ever satiate me. I will always want more, always crave her, always need everything that she is. I’m fucking addicted, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Harper-Rayn Madden has me by the fucking balls.
I watch her with a lazy smile as she finally reaches the little canister of pills, and as she wanders over to the sink, she sips on her coffee while swaying her hips to whatever song is playing onrepeat inside her head. All I know is that I certainly don’t hear whatever the fuck she does.
Harper holds up the little orange canister, popping the lid with her thumb, and as she tips one tiny pill into the palm of her hand, I push off the wall, ready to join her. Only she immediately drops the pill into the sink before turning on the tap and watching the little sucker disappear out of sight.
I pause, my back stiffening as I stare at my woman.
Did I really just see her do that? There’s no fucking way that Harper just washed her meds down the drain. Maybe I’m the one who’s seeing things, because I know damn well that she wouldn’t be so reckless with her medication.
What the fuck is she trying to achieve? I thought she was doing better. I thought we were making progress, but to do this? Fuck. I’ve never felt so lost in my life. How the hell am I supposed to help her? Do I confront her? Push her into more therapy? Take her to meet with Dr. Carzy?
I’ve got no fucking idea. I’m out of my depth here.
As Harper gets back to dancing in the kitchen, I make a subtle noise before finally making my way over to her, watching as she turns around and hits me with a beaming smile that knocks the fucking air right out of my lungs.
“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are today?”
“Only five or six times,” she teases. “But you can tell me again.”
I laugh and pull her into my arms before pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re fucking ravishing.”
“Damn straight,” she murmurs against my lips as I reach around her and steal her coffee right off the counter and take a well-needed hit.
“Hey,” she scolds, smacking my chest before reaching for the thermos, only I hold it out of reach and drink some more while turning away, knowing damn well she can’t reach. Only the little she-devil clambers up onto the counter and throws herself ontomy back, snatching the half-empty coffee right out of my hands. “You’re an asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, doll,” I say, backing up to the counter so that she can drop her ass onto it. She slides down my back, and the moment she’s comfortably seated, I turn around, standing between her perfect thighs as I reach for the coffeepot and start refilling her thermos. “How’re you feeling today?”
“Good,” she says before a cheesy grin rips across her face. “Excited.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“Is it wrong to feel excited to go back to work after what happened there?”
