Tonya Muir - Exposure Season 1

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How much better could it get?

<fade out>

I tighten my robe around me and roll my shoulders before entering the kitchen. I know Cécile will be in here. I could barely look at her last night after Danielle announced what Harper and I were doing on the porch.

What exactly were we doing?

I mean, besides kissing.

I was crying, she was trying to stop me, our lips got in the way. Right? That’s all there was.

Except it felt so damn good.

I could be in trouble here.

"Bonjour, chér," Mama greets me with a smile, looking up from her coffee. "Why you awake so early?" She gets up and moves to the stove to turn the burner on under the tea kettle.

"Restless, I guess." I take a seat at the breakfast table and smooth out the place mat in front of me so I’ll have something to do with my hands.

"Tch tch, what could get you that worked up?" she teases, dropping a tea bag in a mug. She seems to enjoy watching the blush spread over my features.

"Uh … I …" I wish I could crawl back into bed right now.

"Please, ma petite, don’t look so red. I must know something about that. I do have five children, you know." Mama goes to the refrigerator and begins pulling out breakfast fixings. "And I have heard she knows what she’s doing."

I moan and drop my forehead against the breakfast table.

Mama laughs. "If it makes you feel any better, she’s up already too." I hear her crack an egg against a bowl rim. "Went out for a run. Said she had excess energy to burn off."

I must be in hell.

The tea kettle whistles. The woman I once regarded as sweet pours me a cup and brings it over to me, along with the jar of honey. She brushes a lock of my hair back behind my ear, then moves away again.

"Jonathan and I have to go Baton Rogue today."

"Something wrong?"

"Mais, non. One of our foundations has its annual meeting today. Board meetings during the day; then a charity dinner/dance tonight. Personally, I look forward to the evening."

I laugh, enjoying the honesty of the admission. "I can understand. I don’t like meetings much myself."

"C’est la vie. If they somehow protect one more woman or child, then I don’t mind. But, I am glad Jonathan is there with me. He makes my life fun."

"I think your family specializes in that, Cécile."

"Harper is fun, is she not?" She begins to fry some sausage on the stove, its spicy aroma immediately filling the kitchen. Is this what mothers do in the morning? I certainly wouldn’t know.

Is Harper fun?

"Yes, she is," I admit. When she’s not being irritating, maddening or exasperating.

She can read minds, I swear. "Except for when you want to strangle her. I know the feeling. I am her mother." She turns the sausage, and pours the eggs into another frying pan. "But, she has a good heart. I have never seen her hurt anyone intentionally. Not in what is important."

"I see." This is my standard noncommittal answer.

"And you are important. To her."

Cécile keeps her back to me, allowing me the privacy I need to absorb her words. I take each one to carefully weigh and measure, knowing their importance instinctually.

"She’s never brought anyone home before," she continues after a long moment.

This surprises me and I admit so.

"Why? Do you think my Harper would bring home the usual women she goes out with?"

I try to imagine the woman from the motorcycle here in this home. It does not compute. "You know about them?" I ask weakly.

She begins serving up breakfast, putting a full plate in front of me. "Please." She sighs, retrieves her plate, and sits across from me. After a brief prayer, she resumes. "A mother knows her child. I have prayed long and hard for her to be as happy as her father and I are."

"I am sure she will be one day. With a family like this, she knows love."

"Merci. And, I believe you are right."

Now what did she mean by that?

* * *

Papa slows as we approach the house. His sweatshirt is stained with sweat, as I know mine must be as well. Nothing like a three mile run to get the blood flowing. "You’re getting slow in your old age," he teases.

"Yeah, right. Who was pacing who the last mile?" I give him a gentle backhand to the stomach. It’s as hard as a rock.

"I just didn’t want you to feel bad, runt." He flashes a huge smile, the one I know I inherited, and waggles his eyebrows at me. "What’s on your mind? Or should I say who?"

"That obvious?"

"Been through this four times before, Harper. I know the signs."

I shake my head. "I’m not there yet, Papa. I know Mama has plans for Kels. Dammit, she practically chained her in the kitchen yesterday. It wasn’t fair."

Papa laughs and grabs my forearm, slowing us down to a walk. "Mama doesn’t play fair, Harper. Ask Gerrard. She wants to see her baby happy. And Kelsey seems to do that."

Does she?

"What do you think of her?" I ask. My father is one of the best judges of character I’ve ever known.

"Mama or Kelsey?"

I glare at him.

"I think Kelsey is scared. But, I like her a great deal. She’s good people and darn pretty. You two would make beautiful grandchildren for your Mama. Or, at least, have fun trying," he adds with a wink.

"Papa!" I groan.

"Come on, lazy bones, let’s see if our women are up." He claps me on my shoulder and runs toward the house.

Our women. Maybe bringing her home wasn’t such a smart idea.

* * *

Okay. I came, I saw, I enjoyed. Now, it’s almost time to go back to LA, where we will go back to work and all this will be left behind.

But, I kissed her. Again. Oh hell. Why does she keep kissing me? Why do I keep enjoying it so much?

I slide my sneakers on as I consider it. No big deal. It was just a kiss, one kiss on the porch. Not likely to happen again.

Damn it.

"Okay, Kels, get a grip and stop it." As I tie up my laces, I hear her clear her throat. I look up to find her in the doorway between our rooms. She’s still in her running clothes. Which, to my dismay, consists of a sweatshirt and shorts that show off those wonderful, long, tanned, muscular legs.

I need a hobby.

"Good morning, Little Roo." She seems almost shy this morning.

I can’t help but smile at her. "Good morning. Good run?"

"Yeah, Papa always manages to put me through my paces."

"Seems to be the norm for your family." I straighten my pants and stand up.

"Did Mama say anyth-"

I wave off the question. "Don’t be silly, Harper. I love your family. They’re great." Oh shit. Tell me I didn’t just say that.

She gives me a little smile and nods. "What’s not to love?"

I sigh, then nod my agreement as well. "You’re very lucky."

"Yeah, so I’m finding out."

Quick, change the subject or she might kiss you again. "So, what’s on the agenda for today?"

She sniffs her sweatshirt and grins at me. "A shower first and foremost."

"Good choice." Oh yeah, that mental image was a great change of pace. Thanks a lot, Tabloid.

"No one would want to get close to me while I smell like this."

Want to bet? Stop it!

She pulls off the sweatshirt, revealing the black tank top underneath. I think I may have swallowed my tongue.

"Meet me downstairs in a few minutes?" she asks.

I scratch my throat trying desperately not to stare at the absolutely gorgeous body in front of me. "Sure," I manage to choke out. Oh, that was articulate, Kelsey Stanton. For some reason I find myself crossing the room to stand close to her. Mother would be so proud if she could see me now. Standing here almost drooling. She’d have a coronary. Okay, so there’s another positive to having Harper in my life. It’d kill my Mother.

"Maybe we can go out and I can show you some of the sights," she offers as she untucks the tank top from her shorts.

Oh, damn, she’s only talking about the city. Stop it, Kels! Think about going home. Going back to LA. Going back to work. Things getting back to normal. I can see Susan, and Harper can see everyone else. Eh, I don’t want to think about that.

"Meet you downstairs," I reply. "Go get cleaned up." I give her arm a little squeeze. Great muscle tone in those arms.

I’m in so deep.

* * *

Once again I find myself near tears as Robie tells me another story. Now I have dirt and he was willing to give it up for free. I like Robie.

"I swear to you, Kelsey, it’s the God’s honest truth. Took us two hours to get her loose. Mama thought we were gonna have to call the fire department."

"Oh, I’d love to have seen that!" I laugh and take another sip of tea.

"We have pictures," Rene offers as she settles Clark at her breast for his morning meal.

Nothing seems to phase these people.

"Oh, do you now? And what would copies cost me?"

"Copies of what?" Harper asks, entering the kitchen. She gives Rene a kiss on the temple and strokes Clark’s cheek. She is about to give her brother a hug when he tells her.

"Pictures of you stuck in the dog door. You know, the time Mama and Papa caught you trying to sneak back into the house."

"Oh my God! Don’t you dare! I can’t believe you told her that!"

Is that a blush I see? Who would have thought it? The mighty Harper Kingsley actually embarrassed about something.

"She asked," Robie defends as Harper swings around to look at me.

"He’s lying," Harper says flatly. "He’s a habitual liar. You can’t believe a word he says. He’s an attorney, for Christ sake!"

"Hmmm." I get up and pour her a cup of coffee. "Methinks thou doth protest too much, Tabloid."

"Ah, hell, I can’t win," she grumbles, taking the cup from my hand. Did she just caress the back of my hand? Or am I imagining things?

"Why are you here?" she growls at her brother as she sips her coffee.

"Well, Rene and I came by to see if you and Kelsey would like to go out with us tonight, seeing how Mama and Papa will be up at Red Stick. But, since you’re being such a brat, maybe we’ll just take Kelsey to dinner instead. She’s much better company anyhow and a lot prettier too."

"Thanks a lot, Robie."

"My pleasure," he snickers from behind his mug.

"Actually, Harper," Rene offers with a sigh, "we’d love it if you and Kelsey would join us tonight. We’re going to Celebration in the Oaks."

"What’s that?" I ask.

"It’s a Druidic cult thing," Harper replies blithely, trying to hide a smile. "Everyone gets really wasted and screws under the oak trees. It’s great fun."

"Huh?" Robie grunts. "That sounds like the prom."

Sounds like Omaha. Get over it, Kels, get over it.

"Actually, it’s one of the nicest traditions we have down here for Christmas," Harper explains. "So we are simply going to have to suffer through Robie’s company. It’ll be worth the sacrifice."

"Hey!" Rene protests.

"We’re suffering with Robie, chér, not with you."

Rene smiles at Harper’s admission. She really is very beautiful, reminding me of a young Elizabeth Taylor before the booze, pills and the men did a number on her. "Okay. Remember, I’m the mother of your two favorite nephews. You want to keep on my good side."

"Speaking of which, where is Christian? Or did Robie forget him again?"

"One time. That was all, thank you. And I went back as soon as I realized he wasn’t in the car with me. Christian’s with Poppy, of course. He brought his little hammer and wanted to show it off."

"Men and their hammers, it starts so early," Rene coos.

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" Robie good-naturedly agrees, leaning over to give his wife a lingering kiss.

And it’s all I can do to keep myself from turning to Harper and puckering up. It’s gonna be a long day.

* * *

We agree to meet Robie and Rene at Café Degas at seven in the evening. It’s a wonderfully romantic restaurant featuring a full French cuisine with a touch of Creole. Edward Degas, the French impressionist, once lived in the neighborhood and the restaurant is named after him. The place has a relaxed atmosphere, not the regular starched shirt of the French restaurants located in the Quarter.