Don't Promise Me Forever

09 | in which Harper and Lawson fall into a hedge

Lawson ran a hand through his hair. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Harper said. "You never gave me your Mom's number. You've handled all contact with me before the gardening party yourself, and now we're hiding in a hedge maze." Her pulse was thrumming in her chest. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to work out what's happening."

Lawson dropped his hand. "I wouldn't say we're hiding."

"What?"

"In the hedge maze," Lawson clarified. "Consider it more of an impromptu tour."

For a moment, Harper merely stared at him. Then she growled a word — a word that she rarely said, and Diana definitely wouldn't have approved of — and turned in the opposite direction. "I give up."

"Wait!" Footsteps sounded behind her. "Ohio!"

She cursed again. "Which way did we come from?"

"That way."

Lawson pointed left. Harper raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?"

"This is my house," Lawson said. "Of course I'm sure." Harper must have still looked skeptical because he rubbed his jaw. "Okay, I'm about eighty per cent sure."

"And the other twenty?"

"There is a small possibility we're lost," Lawson admitted.

Harper cursed again. Loudly, and creatively this time. She suddenly wished that she'd listened to Diana's advice about wearing a Stathberry bag because then she'd have something to hit Lawson with.

She started to the right. "I can't believe it."

Lawson jogged beside her. "What?"

"That we're lost," Harper said, her teeth gritted. "I'm at an English manor trapped in a maze with a man that's—"

"Unbelievably handsome?"

"—incredibly irritating and I'm wearing a fascinator. A fascinator, Lawson." She shot him a look. "I didn't even know what that was before this morning. And I'm meant to be taking pictures! I haven't even gotten round to the black roses yet, and I've heard rumours that—" Harper stopped abruptly, her stomach dropping. "Oh, no."

Lawson paused. "What?"

Harper's mouth went dry.

Please, God, no. Not now. Why did this keep happening to her?

Jake Parker was walking towards them. There was no logical way that Harper could know that, except that she recognized the odd thump-thwack of his footsteps, like someone was kicking a soccer ball. And that cologne. She'd recognize that salt-and-sandalwood anywhere, even years later.

There was only one solution.

She pushed Lawson into a hedge, diving after him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lawson demanded. "You can't just—"

Harper clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shhh."

His lips moved against her hand. "Ohio—"

"Jake."

"No," Lawson said patiently. "I'm Lawson, remember?"

"No, I mean that's Jake," Harper hissed. "Coming towards us."

Lawson twisted to get a glimpse. "Parker?"

"Don't look!"

Lord above. It was like trying to tell a toddler to stay put, Harper reflected in exasperation. Hadn't Lawson ever watched James Bond before? Didn't he know how espionage worked? The footsteps drew closer, and her pulse kicked up.

Lawson shook his head. "I didn't realize he was coming today, Harper. I swear."

"Oh, god," she groaned. "I really can't face him."

"It's okay," Lawson murmured. "Doubt he'll recognize you, anyway. Parker will just assume that you're—"

Lawson cut off abruptly. He was still pinned beneath her, his green eyes the colour of spring moss. She could feel the heat of his body radiating through his shirt, feel the rapid thump-thump of his heart. Harper frowned. What had he been about to say? What would Jake have assumed about—?

It hit her all at once.

Oh. Oh.

Heat flooded her face. "Finish that thought."

A pulse jumped in Lawson's throat. "I'd rather not."

"One of your conquests, right?" Harper pressed, her throat dry. "That's what you were going to say?"

He looked away. "That wasn't how I was going to phrase it."

The footsteps turned the corner. Harper swallowed hard.

"Lawson?" she murmured.

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"You're a genius," she said.

And before Harper could overthink it, she leaned in and kissed him.

Hello lovely readers,

Please don't kill me for that cliffhanger ;)

Question of the Day: what's your favourite type of flower? I'm a classic red rose kind of girl!

Affectionately,

J.K.