Impulsion (Station 32 #1)(32)
Upstairs, once Harley made it to her room she rushed to her window, looking in every direction for Wyatt. She couldn’t see a thing, the wide balcony shielded most of the parking lot, and what she could see was too far away to distinguish.
Her mother came charging in her room, jerked the drapes closed and moved an inch from her daughter’s face.
“You almost killed your father the last time you ran off with that boy. What do you think is going to happen if you develop some kind of backbone and decide to chase that trash now?”
Harley stood frozen. For one of the first times in her life, she felt rage began to boil to the top of her emotions—it was because she realized that she had let this woman make her weak.
Right then, before she could say a word she heard, “Oh, Mrs. Tatum, I apologize. You have caught me and my misguided intentions.”
Harley followed her mother’s stare to the doorway. Collin was standing there with a bottle of wine, two glasses. Like it was never there, the cold fury left her mother’s expression and a warm, sweet smile emerged.
“And what intentions are those, Mr. Grant?”
Collin, who was just over six-foot, a lacrosse player, well built, dark hair and bright hazel eyes, smiled warmly. “I just wanted to steal a private moment with the ravishing birthday girl. Everyone kept stealing her attention downstairs.” He looked down at his hands, let a somewhat guilty expression come to his visage. “Of course, I suppose the late hour and wine made that a bad idea. My mother would be ashamed.”
Harley’s mother let out a cackle of a laugh, the one she always used in public. She walked right over to him, reached up and cupped his face in her hand. “No, my dear. I believe she would be charmed, for you are your father made over.” She glanced back at Harley. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.” Just to act somewhat like a mother, Claire took the bottle of wine away from Collin, shaking her head. “You may be old enough for this, but she still has three years.” She smiled at him and sighed. “I’m simply exhausted. We have breakfast with your mother in the morning. Don’t stay up too much longer.”
Collin shut the door to Harley’s suite, held up his hand, and listened to the other side of it.
He mouthed the words. “Standing right there,” as he pointed to the closed door. Then aloud he said, “I believe that was a birthday celebration to be remembered. Your mother has a gift when it comes to event planning, always brings the best people together.”
He waved his hand toward her, telling Harley to say her line. And she did. “She does. I felt like a princess. Having you there made it a night that I’ll never forget.”
“Me?” he asked with a grin, even stepping closer to Harley.
“You always make me feel like a princess, Collin. I couldn’t wait to see you tonight.”
“You have stolen my breath, Miss Tatum,” he said as he moved to the entertainment system in the front room. He turned the music up, then motioned for her to move back into the bedroom, far away from where Harley’s mother could hear them.
“What crawled up her ass? What’s with that guy?” he asked Harley in a hushed voice.
Harley was digging in her bag, looking for some kind of comfort clothes, jeans or something. The best she could come up with was black leggings and a top that reached her thighs. She rushed into the bathroom. Collin leaned against the door that was barely open, not looking in, but out.
“That’s Wyatt.”
“The horseman?”
That’s why she liked Collin, called him a friend; he gave everyone a proper title.
Harley had breathed a yes as she struggled to get out of her dress, even cussing. Collin opened the door, motioned for her to turn, unclasped the top and moved the zipper down, then went back to his post by the bathroom door. “Was he coming to wish you a Happy Birthday?”
She and Collin hadn’t had a moment alone since Harley arrived that morning. The last time she had seen him was when their families were vacationing just before the summer started. One night they were walking on the beach, just trying to get air. Harley could not remember how it came up, but in a roundabout way she had told him about Wyatt. She told him about the Dorans but spoke more about Wyatt, told him how Wyatt was helping her the most with her horse.
Collin looked down at her and said, “You love him.” Harley never said either way. Collin had never given her a reason not to trust him, but the risk of that slipping out was too great.
“They caught us. Mom took me away.”
“When?” he asked, stepping in the bathroom with her. Harley had changed and was packing all of her things, the things she thought she needed anyway.
“Right before Dad got sick. Mother blames me, and before that, even now she says that she will bankrupt his family, prosecute Wyatt or something.”
“That’s bullshit. Prosecute? No way she would bring that attention on you or her.”
“We’re both eighteen now. We can figure a way around whatever hell she throws at his family.”
“You’re running away?” Collin asked.
Was she? Yeah, she was. Wyatt had fought for her, came all the way here. That had to mean he saw this the same way. No matter what her mother did, they would be fine.
“All right,” Collin said, reading her expression. “At least be brilliant about it.”