Discovering Harmony (Wishing Well, Texas #3)

Bella’d had a tough couple of years. Her dad had been killed by a drunk driver and her mom had decided to numb her pain by taking pills. A lot of pills, as it turned out, which ended her up in a psych ward. Bella had been taken in by her aunt, who already had her hands full with seven kids of her own. The look in Bella’s eyes as she’d held the doll that was the Baby Jesus and sat beside me had been sheer joy.

After the performance I skipped the potluck and had gone to check on Harmony. Instead of finding her sick in bed, I’d come up the porch to her parents’ house and seen her dancing in the living room, holding a wooden spoon as a microphone and singing her heart out as MTV played on the television. When I knocked on the door, I’d heard her curse, and when it opened she had a blanket wrapped around her sniffling as she coughed.

I’d asked her how she was feeling and she’d whispered that she had a sore throat and it hurt to talk. I didn’t need to be a detective to tell that she’d faked it so that Bella could take the role. And she’d done it so no one had thought that it was charity.

Then there was the time that I’d overheard her in the principal’s office her junior year of high school. The time that had inspired her nickname…princess.

“Hello, earth to Hudson.” My mom waved her hand. “Anyone home?”

I cleared my throat. “Sorry.”

“Wow.” She shook her head back and forth slowly as a wide smile spread across her face. “I knew you had it bad, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

Yeah, you and me both.

Spending this much time with Harmony was torture. Pure. Torture. But, that didn’t change the fact that I was counting the hours, minutes, and seconds until I could see her again…and when that time came I would have to ignore and avoid her. If that wasn’t the definition of insane I didn’t know what was.

Letting my head fall back, I reached up and scrubbed my hands over my face. Things between Harmony and I had always been complicated, but now they’d shot right past that straight to unbearable. I wasn’t just talking about the Guinness Book of World Records-worthy blue balls I’d been suffering from since the second she’d rammed into the back of my cruiser. No, that was just physical. Physical, as painful and tempting as it was, was still just mind over matter. The part that was too much to handle was the emotional pull this girl had on me. The spell that she’d cast on me. The iron-grip hold she had on my heart.

I’d dated my fair share of girls that were, on paper, perfect for me. They were kind, loving, smart, gorgeous, and most of all, wanted the same things I did out of life. Family. Home. Stability.

There was one I’d even considered putting a ring on—Ali Larson. We’d dated for two years. I’d gone into Dallas to go ring shopping, which should’ve been my first clue because if she was the right girl, the one, I would’ve asked my mom for Grandma Burke’s ring. Instead, I’d gone to several jewelry stores. Every time I held a circular gold band topped with a shiny, brilliant diamond and pictured myself getting on one knee, there was only one face I saw staring back at me, and it wasn’t Ali’s. It was Harmony’s. I left the third shop in a cold sweat, drove straight back to Wishing Well, broke up with Ali the next day, and hadn’t been in a relationship since.

It wasn’t that I was waiting for Harmony. I knew better than anyone that was a losing bet. I just didn’t think it was fair to lead someone else on. So, after Ali, I was determined to get over Harmony, and then I could move on with my life.

That was a year and a half ago. Things weren’t exactly going as planned.

“Does she know?” My mom’s voice snapped me out of my inner wallowing.

My personal life, especially when it included Harmony Briggs, was not up for discussion. Not now. Not ever. Over the years my mom had made not-so-subtle, thinly-veiled comments about Harmony’s and my relationship, or lack thereof. But this was the first time she’d ever called me out on it so bluntly.

My jaw tensed and I pressed the pen harder than necessary on the paper as I signed my name where my lawyer had placed yellow arrow tabs. When I finished, I pushed it across the table for her to notarize.

Her seal was on the table as was a pen, but she made no move towards either instrument. She just stared at me. It was amazing the clarity of communication that Loretta Reed could convey without uttering one sound. All it took was one look in her single-minded gaze, and I knew that whether or not I wanted to have this conversation, it was happening.

“No.” I answered flatly.

“Why not?”

“There’s no point, and that’s all I’m saying about it.” Admitting that I had feelings for Harmony was one thing. Getting into the reasons that nothing could ever happen between us was another.

My mom’s refusal to drop the subject and my refusal to expound collided, resulting in a gridlocked staring contest. One I had no plans on backing down from. I may have taken after my dad in a lot of ways, including following his footsteps into law enforcement, but I’d definitely inherited my mom’s stubborn streak.

Finally, when she saw this tactic wasn’t going to break me, my mom let out a small sigh, picked up her pen, and began looking over the documents. Without sparing me a glance, she warned firmly, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Me too.





Chapter 11




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