Falling into Place - Forbidden Heart Series

3| Pants on Fire

Open your fucking mouth.

Four words. Four simple fucking words.

Danielle was worried about me. She pretended like she wasn't, but I could tell. It was in the subtle way she would hesitate telling me she loved me right before we went to bed -- like she was waiting to see if I was going to open up to her. Then when I didn't, her expression would soften and she would kiss me in a way that told me she would keep waiting patiently until I was ready.

She was worried. And it was getting worse.

I wasn't trying to hide anything from her and I wasn't trying to keep anything from her. But for some unknown reason, I couldn't talk about it. I would get up the courage to open my mouth and tell her what I was feeling. . . than nothing would come out. I would just end up telling her that I was fine and that it was nothing to worry about.

But still she was worried.

I didn't want her to worry.

She was pregnant and we were on fucking vacation. The last thing she needed to do was worry about me and my mental state. I didn't want that for her, either. So why did it suddenly become so goddamn hard to talk to her? We used to be able to tell each other everything. Anything.

"Sir? Here's your cafe au lait."

I turned to the petite French woman with a smile. "Merci."

I plastered on a fake smile that she seemed to believe as I took the coffee from her. She was a stranger, so it didn't take much. Once she went back inside the cafe, I turned and against the brick wall behind me.

After we took a three hour train ride from London to Paris last night, the five of us checked in to the Hotel d'Aubusson. Paris was the first stop on our European vacation. The girls loved Paris and I knew Gwen always wanted to come here, too. Today was day one of our three day Paris stop, and I was so fucking happy to not be in London anymore.

How fucked up was that?

"Hey, Ry."

I glanced to the left. "Hey, Harper. Jackson still in bed?"

When she came and stood beside me, I looked around the cafe for an empty able. Once I stopped one, I invited her to sit with me. It was probably for the best. I was feeling antsy. Fidgety. I needed to sit the fuck down.

Harper took the seat across from me and ordered a coffee and danish for herself when a server came by. After we were alone again, she answered my question.

"Yes, Jackson mumbled something about 'culture shock' then rolled over. I told him if he wasn't down here in the next twenty minutes, I was going to walk around Paris without him."

"I don't think that's enough to get him out of bed, Harper."

"Maybe not. But I told him I would be wearing my shortest skirt while doing it."

I sucked my teeth. "That'll do it."

She chuckled with satisfaction. "He was brushing his teeth when I left the room."

That mental image of a groggy, culture shocked Jackson brushing his teeth after succumbing to the whims of a petite blonde made me laugh.

It still surprised me how much my brother had changed over the years. I never thought he would be anything more than the asshole who slept with every women he could get in his bed. Hell, not always in his bed. Sometimes it was at a club. Or a bar. Or in his fucking car. Basically anytime, anywhere. That was Jackson Reese.

But then he met Harper Lewis -- and everything changed.

And it didn't all change for just the two of them.