Chapter 20 Harlow
Chapter 20
Harlow
“Kevin! Kevin, no.”
There’s a fancy new hole in the yard where grass used to be, the dog’s paws and snout completely covered with dirt.
“He’s bored,” a voice tells me, and I turn my head to find Lydia, the next-door neighbor girl, peering at me over the hedgerow that separates my yard from her parents’ yard.
“Gee, ya think?” I have my hand on the dial of the grill, my plan to fire it up fizzling when I realize I don’t have enough propane in my little tank and no motivation to unscrew it and take it in to town for a refill.
“Want me to take him for a walk?” She’s wearing a knit winter hat with a ball on top, even though it’s barely fall, and a hot-pink hoodie.
“Nah, that’s okay, maybe later. I was going to grill some chicken, but I can’t get the grill to work. I think I’ll take the little turd for a ride since I have nothing else for dinner.” But still too lazy to fill the propane tank.
Lydia pushes forward, squeezing through the bush until she pops out into my yard, bending at the waist to call the dog.
“Kevin, come!”
Kevin immediately listens, stopping in his tracks to then run to the neighbor.
The traitor.
I have to call him at least five times to get him to listen. Dad says I have to work with him more. Which is true—I do. Just like a man, dogs need to be trained. Ha!
I make a mental note to find the time to teach the little bastard a few simple commands so he won’t embarrass me again by running to his dog sitter but not to me.
Kevin jumps, licking Lydia’s face when she squats down to his level, wanting belly rubs. It’s as if he hasn’t seen Lydia in months. The reality is, it’s been days. So busy am I with the app, I’ll often have her walk him or take him to the dog park so he can burn off some energy.
“What a good boy,” she coos. “Good boy, Kevin!”
“Oh please—look at his face, he’s covered in dirt.” I pause, closing the grill cover.
“He doesn’t find dirt—dirt finds him.”
“Don’t defend him.” I laugh. “That doesn’t make him any less messy.”
“I know, but it helps. Doesn’t it, Kevin, doesn’t it?” She lets him lick her face, something I never let him do. No wonder he likes her better. “How was New York? We didn’t have time to talk when you got home last week.”
“It was good.”
“You’re not going to take Kevin and move halfway across the country when your app blows up, are you?” She scratches my dog on the chin, and he grins from ear to ear. “Move to the city?”
I give my head a shake. “I don’t think I’ll be moving anytime soon.”
Places like New York are fun to visit, nice to leave .
“That’s good. I would really miss having you next door.”
I glance over at her. “Are you talking to me, or are you talking to Kevin?”
She’s playing with him on the ground now, rolling in the grass in ways I have never done before.
“Dammit, Lydia, stop being a better dog mom than I am! He’s not going to want to come back into the house with me.”
Lydia laughs, giggling when the dog pounces on her stomach and stays there, both of them content to lie in the yard with their faces looking up at the sky.
They’re cute.
“Well.” I remove the plate of chicken from the grill stand and head toward the back door. “I have to get this back inside and in the oven before it gets gross.”
Lydia nods, and Kevin ignores my existence.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take him for a walk?”
“Sure,” I concede. “If you want to take him for a walk, I’ll grab his leash for you.”
As soon as I return with Kevin’s thin blue leash, they happily bound down the sidewalk toward the park conveniently located at the end of the street.
I watch until they disappear from sight before going back into my kitchen and starting lunch all over again.
The house is quiet with no one else in it—it always surprises me how much noise a small dog makes, tossing around toys, tearing toys apart, making them squeak. Shredding things that shouldn’t be shredded, jumping on and off furniture he’s not supposed to be on.
And barking.
All the barking.
I putter around the kitchen in bare feet, my black leggings and cropped sweatshirt a cute and cozy stay-at-home-to-work outfit. I catch a glimpse of myself in a reflection and frown. My hair is a mess, piled on top of my head—I haven’t bothered making it cute in days.
Picking my phone up off the counter, I check for messages, disappointed when there are no new ones.
Nothing from Andy.
My heart sinks, and I set my phone back on the counter with the screen facing down—I don’t need to be constantly tempted to look at it. Just as I let out a long, morose sigh, I hear a knock on my front door.
Strange.
I’m not expecting anyone—Dad wouldn’t bother knocking, and the meetings I have with Ava, Portia, and Danny are typically via Zoom, not in person. Lydia obviously has Kevin down the block, and when she returns, she’ll go to the back door. And the delivery dude doesn’t ring the doorbell; he tosses my packages onto the porch, gone before I even know he was here.
There is no sense of urgency as I shuffle barefoot through the living room. I unlock the dead bolt and turn the doorknob.
For a split second, I almost slam the door shut.
To say that I’m stunned to see Andy is an understatement. I don’t know how to react!
He lifts a hand and waves feebly. “Hi.”
Hi?
That’s all he has to say?!
I push the screen open, but my feet stay rooted in the doorway, mind reeling. Positively spinning a million miles a second.
This is so . . .
Unexpected.
Strange.
Exciting?
Oh my God. Scary. Who just shows up on some girl’s doorstep?
“Andy.” My brain cannot compute or reconcile him being outside, on my front steps. “What are you doing here?”
It’s the only logical thing to say, clearly , considering he hadn’t mentioned he was going to be in town, let alone stopping in to visit.
Or wait.
Is he some kind of creep with no boundaries?
“I’m in town.” He looks as bashful as I feel.
“Obviously.”
He frowns, palms going up apologetically. “Look. I’m sorry for showing up like this, but I thought part of you might be happy to see me?” He grins at me, white teeth twinkling, causing my heart to skip a beat at the sight of him standing here.
But what is he in town to do, exactly?
See me? Another job interview? Watch one of the preseason practices at the stadium, perhaps? I know those are popular, and he did say he loves football.
Maybe he’s a huge fan of Green Bay and didn’t mention it?
“This is not what it looks like,” he begins.
“What do you think it looks like?” ’Cause here he is, standing on my porch, wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up, a ball cap, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking like he’s some kind of serial killer.
“I honestly did not think this through at all.” He glances left and right, as if looking down the road to see if anyone has noticed he’s here. “Can I come in so we can talk?”
Can he come in?
He’s not even supposed to be here!
“Maybe.” I’m still not convinced he isn’t here to murder me.
Even on my doorstep, Andy’s large presence consumes all the space. Tall, broad—he seems more massive than he did at the hotel. I give him another once-over, eyes scanning him from head to toe.
I drink him in.
Down, girl. You don’t know why he’s here.
It’s odd that he showed up out of the blue, right? Wasn’t he just in Ohio?
“Where did you come from?” I blurt out. “How the hell did you find out where I live?”
Andy’s face goes from elated to see me to crestfallen.
“Reverse search on your phone number.” He holds both hands up in mock surrender. “I hope that’s okay—I didn’t think this all the way through, but I always see it in the movies, so I figured ...” His feet shuffle on my concrete stoop. “I’m in town for an interview, not to murder you.”
Which sounds like something a murderer would say, but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“An interview? Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”
“I found out about it when I was talking with my parents.”
I tilt my head. “That sounds fishy.”
Andy grins. “Go ahead and text all your friends to let them know I’m here—and your dad, and the police department.”
“I was already planning on it.” I grin back at him, butterflies in my stomach flapping around and leaving me all breathless and stuff.
“How did you get here so fast?”
“Short flight from Ohio.” He chuckles. “I flew in an airplane, then had someone drop me off at your place.”
“I suppose you can come in now. You pass inspection—but just so you know, I’ll be watching for red flags.”
Andy pauses before stepping over the threshold. “Do you want me to take off my shoes?”
I glance down at his sneakers. They appear spotless. “Um. No. It’s fine.”
Normally I’m a “please take your shoes off at the door” kind of girl. But I can’t deal with him being in my space. It’s tripping me out. It’s bonkers. Crazy. I have no idea what to do with myself or how to behave!
Andy turns, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants. “Goddamn, you’re pretty.”
I blush.
“Sexy. Hot. Adorable,” he adds, stepping closer.
Closer still . . .
Before I can say another word, Andy sweeps me off my feet, picking me up as if I weighed nothing, walks me the short distance to the kitchen, and sets me on the counter. When I spread my legs so he can step between them, he presses himself against me, our pelvises fitting together like a puzzle.
He is the perfect height to be standing between my legs, our noses and eyes and mouths directly in line with the other.
Andy nuzzles the crook of my neck, and I shiver, tickled by the five-o’clock shadow still lining his cheeks and jawline.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
Swoon.
Those butterflies spread their wings and soar, which is why I sound so out of breath. “Is that so?”
He leans into me, and I can feel him smiling against my cheek. “Yes. I haven’t thought of anything but you—or how good you felt—since I walked out of your room last week.”
“I might have been thinking about you too.”
“Is that so?” He repeats my words.
I nod, biting my lower lip. “Yes.”
“Good. I want to show you how much.”
His hands are under my ass now, pulling me forward on the counter, hands then cradling my jawline before his mouth comes down on mine. He kisses me long and hard—an open-mouth kiss with plenty of tongue. We grapple at each other’s shirts, hot for each other, and I’m playing coy.
His large hands flirt with the hem of my sweatshirt, the tips of his fingers running back and forth along the waistband of my leggings as if at any moment they’re going to dip inside.
Back and forth, caressing me.
It feels fantastic having his hands on me again, has me pulling him by the collar of his hoodie farther into me.
A desperate, needy, pull.
Andy wraps his strong arms around my waist, lifting me effortlessly from the counter. I feel myself melting into his arms, loving the fact that the warmth of his touch sends shivers down my spine the way I remember it. Delicious.
No man has ever picked me up like this.
The scent of his cologne lingers in the air as he carries me, instinct guiding him down the hallway toward my bedroom as if he’d been here before. Which isn’t all that remarkable; it’s a small house that he has already seen during our video chats.
I shiver again, delighted.
Swept away.
The journey to my bedroom feels like it takes forever—each step is tense. I marvel at the strength in his embrace, anticipation intensifying with every footstep.
Gets me excited.
Makes me wet.
I could say he lays me on the bed gently—but that would be a lie.
Andy tosses me—actually tosses me like we’re playing out a scene in a movie—to the center of the mattress, grunting from the effort before climbing onto the bed alongside me. Before I can say another word, his lips meet mine in another passionate kiss.
I can barely wait to have him over my body. Naked.
I pull away to get a look at him, giving him a glare of mock indignity, mostly for ambushing me at my house without calling or texting in advance.
“A heads-up would have been the polite thing to do.” It’s the best glare I can muster, considering I’m barely upset anymore. My heart rate skyrockets, every nerve on high alert.
I missed him more than I thought I did.
He is Inside my House .
He is Inside my Bedroom .
Kissing me. Touching me.
I want more . . .
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh, it was a surprise, all right. You must have been feeling confident to drop in. This isn’t the movies,” I quip, adjusting myself on the bed, trying to appear inviting. “Honestly, you’re lucky I didn’t slam the door in your face.”
I laugh.
Andy grins, leaning in and playfully nudging my hair aside with his nose. “Confidence is my middle name. Well, it’s actually Michael, but let’s not get bothered with details.”
I laugh, tracing circles on his chest with the tip of my finger.
“Did you notice a welcome mat on my front stoop?”
“No.”
“I don’t have a doormat or a welcome mat for a reason,” I declare, rolling to my back, not minding for a second that his hand has found its way back inside my sweatshirt, palm skimming my stomach. His fingers flirt with the band of my bra.
“And why don’t you have a welcome mat?”
He has his mouth dangerously close to my ear, and I tilt it to give him more access to one of the most sensitive spots on my body.
I wiggle my hips on the bed, impatiently.
“B-because I don’t want anyone dropping by.” I nervously giggle. “Unless you’re Amazon with a package. Then you can stop by my place anytime you want.”
“Should I leave?” He moves, as if he’s about to climb back off the bed. “I can text you to see if it’s okay for me to stop in.”
I pull him back.
“I’ll let it slide,” I allow. “Just this once.”
“But who would have tossed you on the bed just now if I wasn’t here? Your afternoon would have been so boring.”
I can’t help but grin at him. “Lucky me. Who needs a Prince Charming when I have a man strong enough to throw me onto a bed at my disposal?” I love his arms.
“I’ll have you know,” he whispers, “my skills are highly sought after in certain circles.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Circles of what, exactly?”
“Circles of people who appreciate a good toss.” He winks, flirting, before leaning in for another kiss.
I sound like a teenager. “So, like, a one-person circle.”
I still don’t know what he’s actually doing here in Green Bay, but I suspect I’ll find out soon enough.
Don’t think about it right now, Harlow—be in the moment.
“I should lock the door,” I say at last.
“Why? I thought you lived alone.”
“I do. But I’ve already told you—my dad tends to drop by unannounced, and I let the neighbor girl take the dog for a walk. They could come at any minute.” We’re still wearing all our clothes but probably won’t be for long, and the last thing I want is to be caught naked by Lydia. The horror!
“On second thought.” I lean across the bed and grab my phone from the bedside table, glad I brought it into the bedroom. “Maybe I’ll text her quick and ask her to hang out with Kevin at her house for a while because, um, something came up.”
Andy moves in, covering my body with his—the hard erection inside his pants rubbing against the center of my legs.
“Tell her something real hard came up.”
I laugh. “I am not telling her that.”
“It was just a suggestion.” His lips are on my neck. Collarbone. Kissing me on all my exposed skin.
“If you don’t find a new gig soon, I’ll hire you to carry me to bed like this and kiss me all over,” I tease, typing out a message to Lydia:
Me:
Lydia. Do me a Favor and Hang with Kev. Something Came Up, Should be an Hour. Will Text Soon .
I hit send.
Return my attention to Andy, spreading my legs so he can get more comfortable.
“Now what were you saying about hiring me to fuck you and be at your beck and call?”
“That’s not at all what I said I would hire you for—but if you insist ...”