TO: AlexGrl17

FROM: Logan. Forbes.LT@ OPS

CC:

SUBJECT: Just thinking

Harper,

Ever get up at the crack of dawn just to listen as the Earth comes to life? How the shadows of the night retreat into the fallen areas of our surroundings? Watch as the animals venture out to explore, trusting the light of a new day to give them security? Maybe it’s just me, and the way I try and appreciate the world around me, celebrating each sunrise as a new gift from Mother Nature.

This morning, as the sun crawled over the mountains, I didn’t look for the lizards who watch me from their boulder perches, or listen as the men around me talk of their plans as they stand in line for chow. Today, I tried to imagine how you begin each day. Do you rise early and greet each day with a renewed anticipation? Or are you one of those who love to burrow under the covers, hitting the snooze button until the last possible second? Are you a coffee drinker or do you follow the English and enjoy a spot of tea?

Saint Patrick ’s Day is just around the corner, a time where everyone becomes Irish as a justification to celebrate and partake in the various celebrations. When I was in college, I had the opportunity to visit Savannah, Georgia during spring break, which coincided with their celebration. My friends and I drank beer as the water in the river downtown turned green to match the festivities. I don’t recall much after that, as the drinking continued, erasing any memories I may have made.

What about you, Harper? Any plans to celebrate with the Leprechauns, drinking green beer until your cheeks turn a rosy pink? Or do you perhaps have a date with some lucky fellow? One I will willingly threaten bodily harm to forcing you to stay home and pine for me.

My celebration of the event will be limited to rounds on the patients, and eating dried out corn beef at the mess tent, thinking about the blue-eyed girl I managed to catch a glimpse of as she rushed to tell her brother she loved him. As you have gathered, or perhaps I’m not as coy as I give myself credit for, I was in the room when you contacted your brother. Harper Kincaid, you are, by far, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I cannot wait to get to know you better.

Yours,

Logan

 

I read his email over and over. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn Logan was flirting. Closing the email and chastising myself for the crazy thought. Logan Forbes was most definitely not flirting, he had no reason to. There is a wide gully between gratitude and flirtation, the two having no reason to meet—ever.

A cold front had moved in overnight, sending the early morning commuters scurrying down the sidewalk, their scarves trailing behind them. Wrapping my hands around my second cup of coffee, I attempted to fend off the empathy chill from people watching.

Sarah called a little while ago, letting me know she would be late this morning as she had to go into Mitch’s shop and help him with something. Things traditionally didn’t get rolling around here for another hour, so I busied myself moving some racks of clothes around.

The bell above the door jingled and I assumed it was Sarah, but as I waited for her usual greeting, the voice of the local radio announcer prattled on about the chance of snow later.

“Hello?” A female voice called out, not one I recognized, so I placed the gown back on the rack and turned around.

“Good morning, welcome to Second Chances, can I—” My words dying in my throat as the face of the woman came into view.

"Good morning, my dear beauty!" Her sultry voice matched the image I had for her. I would recognize her anywhere as her face graced the back cover of at least a dozen books I owned upstairs.

"Oh my, God! You're CJ Reece.”

"Yes, and I am hoping you are Harper Kincaid as I have something special for you."

I couldn't move. Here stood the woman who had, for years, taken me away to a place where men treasured women and loved them with amazing passion. Where love conquered all and always won in the end.

Finally finding my voice, unwilling to let the chance to talk with her slip out of my hands. “Yes, I’m Harper.”

Crossing the distance between us, and raising her hand to cradle my cheek. “His description did you no justice.” Her smile electric, as her other hand caressed the other side. “It’s a good thing I’m the writer in the family, huh?”

Calling over her shoulder, “George, put the boxes over there.” I watched slack jawed as the man placed the large box on the counter. CJ walked over ripping the tape from the top and took out what looked to be a manuscript. "Now, my dear, Harper, let me show you what I’ve brought you," pointing to the sofa placed just outside of the dressing area.

"Come, sit, I have so much to share." I wanted to pinch myself to make sure this was real. I cautiously followed and sat down next to her.

“Please forgive me for coming unannounced, but when my nephew called me and told me how the two of you met, I had to see this for myself.”

Something about this didn’t feel right. Why would a New York Times bestselling author come to my shop, on an ordinary Tuesday, to talk with me? I hadn’t won any contest, nor had I entered any for that matter.

“Harper, you look like a deer caught in headlights.” Patting my pant cover thigh, “Let me back up a little and tell you how I came to see you today.” Returning her hands to the manuscript on her lap, The Hands of Fate written in bold block letters across the page, a novel by CJ Reese.

“My pen name is CJ Reese, but my legal name is Valerie Forbes. I am Logan’s aunt. He and I have always been close, and he encouraged me to submit my books to a publisher. When he went off to the Middle East, I made him promise to always remember who he was, and be kind to everyone. He called me in the middle of the night when he decided he wanted to become a SEAL. I cannot tell you how much sleep I lost for those six months.” Waving her hands wildly, leaning into to me to emphasize her point.

“He’s worked so hard at being a good doctor, and I’ve worried he would spend the rest of his life off doing one mission or another, giving up his chance at a family. When he called me yesterday and told me all about you and the wonderful things you were doing, not only for him, but also for your community; I knew he was on the right path. This, my dear beautiful girl, is my next novel.”

My hands were trembling as I slowly opened the page. I could hardly believe this was happening to me of all people. I blinked my eyes several times as I read and re-read the words that sat on the page.

“Go on, Sweetheart, read the dedication."

 

Logan and Harper,

Fate has a habit of taking the ordinary and making it extraordinary. Finding lost souls and reuniting them with their perfect match. There is no ocean, amount of time, or stretch of road which can keep two hearts destined to be together apart. Eventually, they will find each other and create their own version of happy ever after.

“Valerie, please forgive me, but I honestly have no idea why you’re here or how Logan ties into all of this.”

Handing her the manuscript back, her green eyes bright with mischief. “We really don’t know each other—at all. We’ve exchanged a few emails and I’ve mailed him a couple of care packages.”

Her expression changes, eyes full of joy and her smile now dazzling. “I’m here because you, my dear, are about to have your socks knocked off.” I’m about to open my mouth in protest when she raises her hand to stop me.

“Let me tell you about a call I received from a room full of military men.” Fanning herself as she rocks back and forth in her seat. “If I was twenty years younger, there was a couple of them I would have taken for a test drive. Anyway, I had the pleasure of speaking with your brother, who is a huge flirt by the way.” Her admission makes me laugh, as I agreed with her.

“You have caught my nephew’s attention with your generosity and both internal and external beauty. He, and his team, have banded together in an effort to see if he can win your affection.”

My gut was screaming that something vital was missing. “And he knows you’re here, to tell me all of this?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“I see.” And there it was, the joke, which always came when real feelings rose to the surface. Rising to my feet, I’m prepared to seal up the box and escort her out the door.

“Harper, wait, he knows I’m here. He did call me and ask me to deliver the books in the box over there. When I saw the sparkle in his eyes and heard how the guys around him spoke so highly of you, I had to come and make sure you were for real, and not some opportunist. I’m happy to say you are exactly as he said you were, a genuine person.”

Valerie left me an autographed collection of her books, and her contact information. I promised I would keep her posted on the progression of my relationship with Logan. As she waved her final goodbye, I reasoned with myself how she had to be a romantic at heart, creating a world where fantasies were born. I lived in the real world, one where men didn’t fall for women they never met.

Removing the manuscript before a customer could see it, I turned and caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. I had a closet full of gray and black, a few reds thrown in as sweaters and blouses. Genetics gave me large breasts and larger hips; rolls of skin came from lack of visits to the gym. As I locked eyes with my reflection, it became clear to me it was Amanda who Logan saw talking to Ross, not me. “No one would ever consider this beautiful.” My eyes drift to the window where my wedding dress still hung on the dress form, “Even someone who was pretending.”

* * *

 "Sorry I’m late.” Sarah rushed through the front door, the chill of the wind following her in. “Mitch had an order come in from out of state and he wanted me to look it over for him.” Setting her purse down on the counter and shimmying out of her coat.

“What’s this?” Sarah stops, pointing to the box I hadn’t managed to move to the back. Lifting the flap on the box, I grab the first book I come to and pull it out. I had been reading CJ Reese’s novels since I had found one left behind at a Laundromat. It was Love’s Never Ending Journey, a story about two star-crossed lovers who lived in the Wild West. I read the entire book in less than five hours.

“Lieutenant Forbes is related to Ms. Reese and sent her over here with this box of her books for me.”

“Shut the front door.” Her eyes widen as she takes the book from my hand.

“He told her how much I enjoyed her writing and she wanted to do something nice.” No way in hell was I going to tell her about the mix up in me and Amanda.

“You must have made quite an impression if he went to all of this trouble to get her to come over here.” Sarah thumbed through the pages, ones I knew she had read time and time again. Placing the book on the counter, she reached over and took the manuscript.

“Holy shit, Harper! This one isn’t due out until this summer.” Reaching over, I try to take it out of her hand, not wanting her to read the nonsense in the dedication. She gives me a stern look as she steps away from reach, taking the book with her. I want to hide as she reads the words, her smile growing as she gets to the dedication and my name big and bold next to his.

“Harper! Do you know what this means?”

“Of course,” attempting to reach the book one more time, the need to hide this small piece of a lie somewhere safe is overwhelming. “It means I accomplished what I set out to do. Pay it forward.”

“How can you say that? CJ Reese is the most read author in romance.”

“Exactly, she writes fiction. Happily ever after with each issue, fabricated in studios with high tech equipment and photoshop.”

"Says someone who's never been in love."

"That's not true. I was engaged to be married."

"Doesn’t mean you were in love."

"That's crazy! Why would I marry someone I'm not in love with?" Her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline, eyes challenging me to return a rebuttal.

“Lance and I were together for years—” I attempt to rationalize, but Sarah knows me well, and heads me off with my own brand of logic.

"Time doesn't make you in love, dear, it makes you comfortable." I couldn't argue with her. She was absolutely correct. Time meant nothing in matters of the heart. Historically, men and women met on a Thursday and married on a Sunday.

"Sarah, I've never met him, or even spoken to him, not outside of email."

"You think just because you haven't been face to face with him this can’t be possible?” Tapping her index finger over the scripted lettering. “What, are you worried he is five feet tall with warts all over his hands?”

"No, looks wouldn't matter to me, but I still haven't been face to face with him." Reaching one last time, snagging the edge of the paper and pulling it into my arms.

Sarah folds her now empty arms, crossing them in front of her and leaning over the counter. “Then explain to me how people who are blind fall in love?"

Not certain where she was going with this, "Well, they get to know each other's character and spend time getting to know one another.”

“Which in a sense is what the two of you are doing via email, right?”

“It's not like that.” Shaking my head wildly, the need to change the subject nearly choking me as I placed the manuscript back into the box and pulled it from the counter.

“Tell me something, Harper? When you ended your engagement, what left you the most broken? Was it the way he kissed you goodbye in the morning? Or the fact you wouldn’t be getting laid every night?"

"We never—”

“Wait, you and Lance never fucked?”

Bracing myself against the counter, I hadn’t meant to say anything, keeping my lack of a healthy sexual relationship to myself. With a deep sigh, “No, the relationship hadn’t evolved toward anything quite so deep.”

“Then I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’ve never been pushed up against the wall, gasping for breath, while your panties are ripped from your body, as a man, one who knows you better than you know yourself, takes you to places even a well written book like these can’t reach”

I had read about the kind of passion she spoke of, gasping into my hand as I imagined the characters coming together in such a way. My one and only encounter with Alex had been tender and sweet, like the love he had for me, and how much we treasured one another. He had taken his time, made sure I was ready for him, never taking more than I was willing to give.

“You're right, I’ve never experienced the type of unbridled passion you describe. But you know what? Even if I had, it still wouldn’t make the words in the dedication true.”

Sarah silently nodded her head, something brewing in the depths of her hazel eyes. “You’re absolutely right, it doesn’t make any of this true. But I know you and I can tell by the way you were trying to hide it from me there’s more you're not sharing. Something he’s saying in those emails you’ve been exchanging.”

Sarah may know my body language, but I knew she would never pry into my personal email if I weren’t reading it myself.

“You're free to have a look, but prepare yourself for disappointment. They’re filled with a lot of gratitude and what he would like to have in the next box.”

She surprises me, turning to look over at the computer screen. “Maybe later, I have something else I need to talk with you about. I need to ask you a favor.”

"Ask away."

"Well, you know it's no secret this is by far one of the busiest shops in our area. Mitch was wondering if he could install some electronics over here for advertising purposes?"

"Why?"

"Well, he's trying to increase the number of television sets he's selling and his surround sound equipment, so he figured if he was to install a few items in this store, and then place his business contact information on them that word would get out."

"Tell him to install whatever, just clean up after himself."

* * *

TO: Logan. Forbes.LT@ OPS

FROM: AlexGrl17

CC:

SUBJECT: I had a visitor

Logan,

You are a sweet and thoughtful man. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting and visiting with your aunt. Having been a fan for several years, I loved listening to how her creative mind works and getting a glimpse of the wonderful stories she plans to create. I cannot thank you enough.

You know, I didn’t send you the box as an attempt to create an atmosphere of obligation. I do this as a way of giving back.

As to your comment of me being the most beautiful girl you have ever seen, I assure you the girl you saw talking with my brother was his wife, Amanda. You and every man who sees her is captivated by pretty much everything about her. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to my brother, your crush is safe with me.

Saint Patrick’s Day will be just another day for me, tucked away early in my bed, reading one of these books your aunt signed for me. In regards to your question of my rising in the morning, I will admit to enjoying watching the sun come up, savoring the quiet before the world wakes up. Taking my time as I sip my coffee.

I do look forward to Easter. Spring has always been a time of renewal. I will help my friends celebrate with their children, hunting eggs in the park and feasting on a meal together.

Sorry to hear about the dried out corn beef. How about I send you some jellybeans from the candy shop across the street? Name your favorite flavor and they will be in your next box.

Your Friend,

Harper