Vineyard Dreams (Beyond The Red Carpet #4)

Chapter 15

15

H arper stacked the last plate onto the small pile and glanced at Elle.

“So,” Elle began, her voice hesitant, “about tonight…”

Harper turned, a dishcloth in her hand. “What about tonight?” she asked, feigning ignorance, though her heart thumped against her ribs.

Harper thought that tonight couldn’t have gone any better. Elle had arrived with a bottle of wine almost two hours ago, and they’d taken their time, talking while Harper cooked. The signed contract was on the kitchen counter. Everything about tonight had been perfect so far, but Harper would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous about what was ahead.

Elle leaned against the counter, her gaze fixed on Harper. “You said… about me staying.” A faint blush crept up her neck.

Harper leaned back against the sink, mirroring Elle’s posture. “And?” she prompted, a playful lilt in her voice. She wanted to draw it out, savor the anticipation.

Elle pushed off the counter and crossed the small space between them. “And I was wondering if you still meant it.” Her voice was a breathy whisper.

Harper tossed the dishcloth onto the counter, her hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from Elle’s face. “I meant it,” she murmured, her gaze locking onto Elle’s. She could feel the warmth radiating from Elle’s body, the subtle scent of her perfume filling the air.

Harper’s breath caught as Elle’s lips found hers. As amazing as the other night had been, this was off the charts. The hesitation was gone, and Elle was kissing her like her life depended on it.

Harper backed Elle against the kitchen counter, hands sliding beneath Elle’s shirt to find warm skin. Elle made a sound, half gasp and half moan, that sent electricity through Harper’s veins.

“Bedroom?” Harper breathed against Elle’s neck.

Elle nodded, pulling Harper closer. They stumbled toward the hallway, neither wanting to break contact. Harper’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of Elle’s shirt.

Gravel crunched outside. They both froze. Headlights swept across the front door and the hallway, just reaching the kitchen.

“Are you expecting someone?” Elle whispered, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Harper shook her head, heart hammering for an entirely different reason now. “No. No one knows I’m here.” Harper wondered if they could just ignore it. “Oh, well my manager does. I doubt she’d just show up here though.” Her eyes landed on the clock on the oven. “And this late?”

A car door slammed.

Harper pulled away from Elle, her lips still tingling. “Let me see who it is.” She smoothed down her shirt and went into the living room, peeking through the gap in the curtains. Her stomach dropped.

Caroline strode up the porch steps, her blonde hair catching the porch light. Her heels clicked against the wooden boards - designer shoes that had no business being anywhere near a vineyard.

Harper’s mouth went dry. Six months of ignored texts, six months of distance, and now Caroline showed up at her door? The universe had a sick sense of timing.

“Everything okay?” Elle’s voice carried from the kitchen.

“I-” Harper’s response cut short as knuckles rapped against the door.

She opened it, ready to send Caroline away, but her ex slipped past her into the house.

“Harper, I wish you’d answer my texts. That wasn’t exactly a short drive.” Caroline smiled. “But that’s how good this script is.”

“Caroline, what are you-”

“And thankfully, your manager told me where to find you.” Caroline’s gaze swept over her. “I tried calling, texting. When you disappeared after the Oscars, I got worried. But I wasn’t going to give up that easily. Not when I’ve got a script that would be perfect. For both of us.”

Heat crept up Harper’s neck. She shifted her weight, positioning herself between Caroline and the kitchen where Elle waited. All she could think about was getting Caroline out the door, getting back to Elle’s kisses, Elle’s touch.

“I’m taking some time off,” Harper said, hoping that would end the conversation. She had no interest in reading this script, especially if it involved working with Caroline.

“You’re not serious,” Caroline said, her hands sliding into the pockets of her white pants. “You just won an Oscar. Everyone wants to work with you.”

“Well, I’m taking a break, whether it’s the smartest career move or not.” Harper’s hands were on her waist. She didn’t know what else she could say. She couldn’t just throw Caroline out, but she might just have to.

“We need to talk, Harper.” Caroline’s voice turned serious. “About us.”

Elle’s throat clearing sliced through the tension. Harper’s head whipped around. Elle stood in the hallway, her expression carefully neutral. “I’m going,” she said, her voice low. Her eyes flicked to Caroline, then back to Harper. A flicker of something, hurt maybe, crossed her face before she smoothed it away.

Panic flared in Harper’s chest. She opened her mouth to stop Elle, but the words caught in her throat. Caroline stood there, radiating a smug self-assurance that stole Harper’s voice. All she could manage was a weak, “Elle…”

Elle’s gaze lingered on Harper for a beat, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, with a small nod, she turned and walked out the door. The sound of her truck starting up echoed in the sudden silence.

Harper wanted to run after her, explain, apologize, anything to erase the hurt she’d seen in Elle’s eyes, but she couldn’t. Not with Caroline still here.

“You moved on quickly,” Caroline said, her voice laced with amusement, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. “Still chasing after older women, I see.”

“Don’t.” Harper’s voice came out sharper than intended. “You don’t get to comment on my life anymore.”

Caroline’s smile faltered. “Come on, Harper. We both know you’re just hiding out here. This isn’t you - playing farmer in the middle of nowhere?”

“You never did understand me.” Harper moved toward the door, holding it open. “It’s late, and you should go.”

“I’ll go but I’m leaving you with this. You need to read this.” Caroline pulled a thick script from her designer bag. “It’s brilliant. The kind of role that could make history.”

“I said no.” Harper’s grip tightened on the door handle. “I’m not interested in any scripts right now, especially not one with you.”

Caroline placed the script on the small table by the door. “Read it, Harper. For me? Please?” Her voice softened, a familiar tactic that used to make Harper’s heart melt. Now, it just tightened her resolve.

“No.” Harper’s voice was firm. “It’s not happening.” She opened the door.

Caroline sighed dramatically, then turned toward the door. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t come crying to me when you’re bored out of your mind picking grapes.” She paused at the threshold, glancing back. “Although, I might be persuaded to rescue you. Think about it, Harper. This quiet life… it’s not you.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Harper alone with the silence and the unwanted script. She leaned against the door, closing her eyes.

She pushed off the door and walked back to the kitchen. Harper picked up her phone, staring at Elle’s name. She started to type a message, then deleted it. What could she say? Sorry my glamorous ex showed up and ruined everything? It sounded pathetic, even to her own ears. She set the phone down.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go.