Until Harmony (Until Her/ Him Book 6) Read online

  After taking the last sip from my coffee, I set the cup in the sink and fill it with water then grab my purse and keys. Locking the front door behind me, I head down the steps to my car. Seeing my neighbor, Misty, outside with her phone to her ear while she’s watering her flowers, I wave, watching her tuck the phone against her shoulder and wave back with the hose. Misty, her husband Matt, and her daughter Molli came over a few days after I moved in, welcoming me to the neighborhood with cookies, and since then, we’ve had a few over-the-fence conversations, but we haven’t really had a lot of time to get to know each other. It’s the same with my other neighbors. We wave hello and goodbye, but for the most part, everyone tends to stick to themselves.

  Getting in my car, I start the engine and back out. I go to the bank first and take care of business there, then head to the salon. I park out front and get out, taking my bag with me, and head inside. I don’t remember when Ellie started doing my hair. It seems like forever ago. I used to go to a girl in Nashville, but when Ellie started working for Frankie, and my cousins started going to her, I gave her a try and haven’t gone to anyone else since.

  I open the door, and the minute I spot Frankie, the owner of the salon, behind the counter, a smile splits my face.

  “Harmony,” he greets me, coming around the counter toward me. Taking hold of my upper arms, he kisses both my cheeks. “How are you, gorgeous?”

  “I’ve been really good. How are you?”

  “Good.” He smiles then looks through the small opening in the wall to the back of the shop. “Ellie is just finishing up with her last client. You don’t have a long wait, but you do have time to get a coffee if you want one.”

  “I’m having lunch with my dad across the street after this. I don’t want to ruin that by drinking too much coffee.”

  “Got it.” He grins then his eyes go past my shoulder when the door chimes, and I turn to watch a woman walk in. “Jenna.” He lets me go then greets her the same way he did me, with the arm hold and cheek kiss. “I’m all set up. Are you ready?” he asks her.

  “Ready.” She smiles at him.

  His eyes come to me. “Make yourself comfortable. Ellie will be out soon.”

  “Thanks, Frankie.” I take a seat on the purple couch in front of the window and drop my purse to my side. Pulling out my cell phone, I send a text to my dad reminding him about lunch today, and then I reply to a text from Willow who wants to go get dinner next week. I send her back a text saying yes then I send my mom a message asking if she wants to go with me to have dinner with Willow. When she responds with a yes, I send Willow another message letting her know that mom is coming along.

  “Hey, girl,” Ellie says, and I shut down my phone and drop it into my bag looking up at her.

  “Hey.” I stand and skirt the coffee table, giving her a hug.

  “You ready?”

  “Totally.” I smile at her as she takes my hand and drags me with her to the back of the salon to her station.

  “I have to show you a photo. I came across it the other day, and I swear the second I saw it, all I could think is Harmony needs this haircut and color.”

  “Show me.” I sit in her chair then take the photo she hands me.

  “Am I right?” she asks, and I study the woman’s hair. It’s shorter than my hair is now, just below her shoulders, with lots of layers and highlights.

  “I love it.” I lift my head and smile at her in the mirror.

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah, it’s hot. Can you do this today?” I lift the photo in my hand.

  “Heck yes!” She grins at me, and I grin back.

  “Then make me pretty.”

  “Please, you’re gorgeous. You don’t need any help with that.” She pulls out a hot pink cape, drapes it around my shoulders, and spends three hours highlighting, lowlighting, cutting, blow-drying, and curling my hair. When she’s done, my hair doesn’t look like the woman in the photo’s hair. It looks better. The cut makes me look like the kind of woman who lives her life wild, the kind of woman who takes risks and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.

  “You are amazing.” I look from my reflection to Ellie in the mirror and smile.

  “I think this is the best cut and color I have ever done.” She runs her fingers through my hair, watching the choppy layers fall into place.

  “I love it, thank you.”

  “No problem.” She takes off the cape, and I pull my card out of my wallet and hand it to her. “You wanna meet me in the front to sign?”

  “Sure.” I pull out cash for her tip and set it on her station, knowing from experience that she won’t take it if I try to hand it to her. Going to the front of the salon, I sign the receipt she hands me.

  “Do you want me to set up your next appointment now, or do you want to wait?”

  “I’ll wait. I’m not sure of my schedule right now, but I’ll call.”

  “All right.” She comes around the counter to give me a hug. “Tell everyone I said hi.”

  “I will. Do the same and kiss Hope for me.” I say, referring to her daughter, and wave at her over my shoulder as I leave then head across the street. I sent my dad a text when Ellie was almost done, so I’m not surprised when I spot him through the window at the restaurant, already seated in a booth.

  “Hey, Dad.” I slide into the seat across from him and his eyes widen.

  “You changed your hair?”

  “I did.” I run my fingers though it, loving how soft and light it feels.

  “It looks good.”

  “Thank you.” I drop my bag next to me.

  “Ordered you a Coke with your usual Monte Cristo sandwich and fries,” he says, and my mouth waters. A Monte Cristo is ham and Gouda cheese between two thick pieces of Texas toast, which is then dipped in egg batter and fried to a golden brown. Then they cover it in a drizzle of raspberry jam and powdered sugar. I probably wouldn’t want to know how many calories are in the sandwich, but it’s one of my favorite things to eat whenever I come here, and totally worth taking the stairs at work.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiles. “So how are things with you?”

  “Things are good,” I tell him, then I smile at the waitress when she drops off our drinks.

  “Yeah, what about you and Harlen?”

  “Dad,” I sigh. This happens every time I see him lately. Really, it happens every time I see anyone in my family. They always ask what’s going on between Harlen and me, making me feel like a broken record.

  “What?” he asks, and I shake my head.

  “We’re just friends.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “I keep saying it, because it’s the truth. He’s my friend. I like him. If I was with him, I would tell you that we’re together, but that’s not the case.”

  “Hm,” he grunts, rubbing his jaw, and then asks, “Did you hear back about the class you wanted to take?”

  “Yeah, they didn’t accept me this time, so I’m going to try again when it comes back around. And if that doesn’t work, I found an outside school that has the same program. I’d just rather not have to pay for the class if I don’t have to.”

  “Your mom and I will pay if you need us to.”

  “I know,” I agree with a noncommittal shrug, and then I move my hands off the table when the waitress comes over with our food.

  Setting my sandwich and fries down in front of me, she places my dad’s burger and fries in front of him and asks, “Do you two need anything else?”

  “I think were good,” I answer, and she nods before wandering off to another table. Picking up a fry, I pop it into my mouth, chew, swallow, and then ask, “What’s going on with Bax and Talon? Are they still planning on moving home?”

  “Yep, they’re getting things sorted out now. Hopefully it won’t be long before they’re here.”

  “It will be nice having them around.” I know both my parents want all their kids close, but Bax and Talon, just like N
alia, had other ideas about what they wanted. After the boys both graduated, they decided to move to Alaska. First, they bought a fishing boat, thinking they could run it in the summer and make enough money to get them through the rest of the year. Unfortunately, their first and second fishing seasons sucked, leaving them broke. They ended up selling their boat and moving to Montana, where they began working for a log home company. They both ended up loving it so much that they started their own side business building tiny hunting cabins in Alaska in the middle of nowhere during their time off. That business took off, so they have been traveling between Alaska and Montana for work. They now have a plan to start a similar company in Tennessee, which means they need to be here, at least for a little while.

  “When they get home, I want to get Nalia out for at least a week,” he says, bringing me out of my head. I study him, trying to read his mood, the same thing I do when he or Mom talks about her. My sister Nalia and my brother Sage were both adopted. I don’t recall when it was, since I only ever remember them being a part of our family, but I know they were young, maybe around two years old. Not long after Nalia turned eighteen, she decided to get in touch with her birth mother, and now she lives in Denver not far from her. My mom and dad have both been supportive of her relationship with her mother, even if it hurts them to have her so far away. But Sage hasn’t been supportive. He won’t even speak about the woman who gave birth to him, and that has taken a toll on his relationship with Nalia.

  “Maybe we can plan a trip to the Smoky Mountains, rent a couple of cabins and a boat, like old times,” he continues. “Your mom would like that.”

  “I’d love that, so I know Mom would really love it,” I agree, wondering if Harlen’s ever been to the Great Smoky Mountains. He would love it there, nothing but tree-covered mountains and good people. I used to love going to the Smokies when I was a kid, visiting Dollywood and all the other places set up with things to do. The whole town is built with family and fun in mind.

  “We’ll plan for it.” He smiles before taking a bite of his burger.

  “Maybe I’ll invite Harlen.” I grin, and he grunts, making me laugh.

  ***

  Feeling my skin prickle, I look at Harlen and catch him staring at me again. “You’re making me self-conscious,” I sigh.

  “I can’t believe you cut your hair,” he says while I pick up my drink and down half of it. He didn’t say he liked it when he came to pick me up. No, the first words out of his mouth after I opened the door were “What the fuck did you do to your hair?” making me want to kick him in the shin.

  “Well, I did, so drop it,” I snap, fed up and a little bit drunk. Okay, a lot drunk.

  “Babe, I like it. It’s just going to take me some time to get use to it,” he soothes, and I turn to look at him again.

  “Whatever,” I gripe, and he smiles, making me narrow my eyes. “I’ll be back. Can you order me another drink?”

  “Sure.” He nods, and I slide off my stool. Going to the bathroom, I take care of business then look at myself in the mirror as I turn on the water.

  “I like my hair,” I mutter to my reflection as I wash my hands. Once I’m done, I grab a paper towel and dry them quickly then use that same paper towel to turn off the water and open the door out of habit.

  The moment I step out of the hall, Harlen’s eyes come to me. “Ordered you some water,” he tells me, and I shake my head.

  “I wanted another drink, not water.”

  “You can have one after you drink some water.”

  “Whatever,” I mumble again, climbing up onto the barstool next to his.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I turn my head and meet his gaze.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Still pissed at me?” he asks, and I drop my eyes to his mouth and see his smile.

  “No.”

  “Angel,” he laughs, and my belly tugs. God, I love it when he calls me that. It’s not all the time, but it’s always sweet. “You’ll get over it.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck, and I know he’s going to kiss the top of my head, but instead of tipping my head down to let him, I tip it back without telling myself to do it. Then I lean forward, putting my hands on his chest. The moment our mouths meet, my lips part and my tongue slips out, touching his bottom lip. My nails dig into his chest through his shirt, while one of his hands slides into my hair at the back of my head and his other molds around my hip. Tipping my head to the side, his tongue flicks over mine and I whimper.

  “Fuck,” he growls. Then he’s gone. Ten feet away, across the room, with his back to me as he disappears down the hall toward the bathroom.

  “Oh no.” Breathing heavily, I realize what I just did, what just happened, and I look around, jump down from the stool, and grab my bag, booking it to the door. I don’t think about what I’m doing or where I’m going. I run toward the end of the block. I didn’t drive us here; Harlen did. So I don’t have my car—not that I would drive in my state, but still, I could hide in it if I had it.

  Reaching the corner of the building, I press my back to the wall and pull out my cell phone, unlock the screen, and bring up my Uber app. I need to get out of here and do it quickly. Thankfully, there is a driver close, so I press the button I need and wait until they are parked. Only then do I leave my hiding spot and run across the street.

  “Harmony?” a girl asks, rolling down her window. I nod, open the back door, and get in, ducking down in the back seat. “You okay?”

  “Yep,” I lie, and I hear my cell phone ring in my hand. Looking at the screen, I then squeeze my eyes closed.

  “You sure?” she asks, and I open my eyes and meet her gaze in the rearview mirror. She’s pretty, really pretty, with dark hair and big blue eyes. She doesn’t look like any Uber driver I’ve ever had. Then again, I don’t take an Uber often.

  “Yeah, just a little tipsy,” I fib as my cell phone starts to ring again.

  Hitting Deny, I watch a text pop up on my screen.

  Where the fuck are you?

  I sit back and close my eyes. I must be drunker than I thought I was. I know for sure I’m stupider than I thought. Opening my eyes, I text back.

  Sorry, had to go. I’ll see you around.

  Not even two seconds later, my phone chimes again.

  Where are you?

  I ignore that text. I also ignore my stomach turning and my eyes stinging, and I keep ignoring everything that I’m feeling until I’m home in bed. Then I turn off my phone and proceed to ignore the pounding on my door. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore the way my heart hurts.

  Chapter 4

  Harlen

  “JESUS,” EVAN SAYS, AND I look at him and see his eyes are pointed across the bar. Following his gaze, my stomach muscles tighten along with my hand around my beer.

  “What the fuck?” I growl, watching Harmony put one knee then the other onto a barstool, then her hands to the top of the bar, and climb on before standing. Once there, Ashlyn climbs up next to her and they smile at each other. Only then do they start singing along with a pop song that’s playing way too fucking loud. Seeing her, her makeup smoky, her hair done big, in a mass of messy curls, the tight black dress she’s wearing showing way too much skin, and the heels she has on making her long legs impossibly longer, my dick starts to get hard and my blood starts to heat. Not heat: it boils, making me see red.

  “You finally gonna deal with that?” Evan asks, and my eyes go to him. He doesn’t know what went down between us, but he knows Harmony and I went from spending almost every day together to her avoiding me.

  I was angry two weeks ago when she didn’t return my calls or answer her door after we kissed and she ran off. I’m no longer angry. I’m furious she’s refused to talk to me and hasn’t had the balls to come to me. Oh, I’m sure she’s twisted shit up in her head about my reaction to the kiss, but the reality of it is, if I didn’t get away from her, I wouldn’t have been able to control mysel
f. I was two seconds away from taking her right there in the bar, not giving a fuck who saw the show. That’s how badly I wanted her.

  When I started talking to her, I went against every single instinct I had because of her reaction to me asking her out the first time. That fear I saw in her eyes, it showed me she was truly afraid, afraid of living, doing something on a whim, taking a chance. That’s when I came up with a plan to get into that head of hers, to get her comfortable with me, make it easy on her. Obviously, that plan went to shit.

  “Fuck.” I drop my beer to the table then stand and cut through the crowd of men gathered around the bar glaring at them until they back off. “Get down,” I growl, and Harmony’s eyes come to me and widen. What she doesn’t do is make a move to get down. “Get the fuck down now,” I demand, watching her swallow and take a step back. Seeing she’s about to step off the top of the bar, I shake my head, wrap my hands around her waist, and pull her down, listening to her shriek as I toss her over my shoulder.

  “Harlen!” she shouts, pounding my back with her fists.

  “Calm,” I rumble, smacking her ass, and her body stills as I push out of the door.

  The second we’re outside, she kicks her legs and yells, “Put me down!” She hits me again, so I smack her ass, this time harder than before. “You didn’t just do that… again,” she cries the last word, and I wonder how the fuck it’s possible that I feel like smiling when I’m so unbelievably pissed off.

  As soon as I reach the lot where I parked my bike, I put her to her feet, keeping hold of her hand. I kick my leg over the seat of my Harley then order, “On. Now.”

  “I’m not getting on your bike,” she hisses, trying to pull her hand free.

  “Get on, Harmony.”

  “No!” She tries to tug free, but I don’t let her go. Instead, I use her hand to pull her closer, then take her mouth, thrusting my tongue between her lips. Her free hand starts out trying to shove me off, but soon, she’s pressing her tits against my chest, trying to get closer.