22. Harlow
Chapter 22
Harlow
T hings are going better than expected. It’s not taking much from Harrison to get inspired. In a strange way, I think that not going further, or as he puts it “all the way,” keeps the intensity high for us. Our make-out sessions are heated and fun. I love the push and pull we have during them.
Every tryst with Harrison gives me the energy I need to keep going. The last one was cut short by a phone call from an impatient Meg, still waiting to hear back from me after my ambiguous messages and denied call. I’ve never kept anything from her, and I won’t start now. I filled her in on the details of our arrangement, even told her about the stipulations in our little notebook contract. She wasn’t happy since she’s a romantic and all. If I’m being completely honest, I think she was more worried about Harrison than me.
Some best friend.
The environment here was made for this kind of work. I can focus without too much external stimulation, but there is also plenty for me to do when I want to take a break. Since my three encounters with Harrison, I’ve gone through almost half of my workload, and it’s felt easier than it has in a long time.
In my downtime, I walk to land, visit the stable, or go for a ride. I read for leisure again, and now I’m writing. The creative part of me seemed quiet for so long. Now, it’s vibrant, loud, and bursting at the seams. I’ve taken to collecting and enjoying other’s art so I can try to stay connected to that world.
One of the things I’m working on is a story that is sensual and seems to have great chemistry. I don’t know if I’ll ever do anything with it, but the fact that I’m creating something is enough for me to feel a little more like a whole version of myself. I’m in the zone, writing away when my phone buzzes.
Heath: If I wanted to get you flowers, what kind would be the sort you’d enjoy receiving?
Heath: You come off as a blood rose kind of girl, but I’d hate to assume.
Me: You already have.
Heath: Was I wrong?
Me: I don’t mind roses. I think I prefer plants to flowers.
Heath: Aren’t they the same thing?
Me: No, they’re not.
Heath: Okay, what plant would you like?
Me: One that I pick myself.
Health: So, roses from me and a potted plant from yourself?
Me: Sure.
Heath: I like calla lilies.
Me: …
Health: Underappreciated because of the long, lean simplicity, overlooked. Even more stunning in black.
I roll my eyes. This guy really is doing his best to win me over. He is asking questions daily and doesn’t tire or get put off by my dismissive responses. He’s determined, I’ll give him that.
Me: Smooth.
Heath: What? *wink face emoji*
It’s bonfire night at the main Hill house. Blake is in bed, and the three of us are sitting just outside the back of their beautiful farmhouse, a video monitor nearby. Large Adirondack chairs are evenly spaced around the stone pit with a large, warm blaze. I have a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, but if I’m honest, even with the fire and blanket, I’m cold. In my hands, I have a warm mug of spiked cider, and I’m thankful for the extra warmth.
Hunter and Cassidy are talking about her recent projects. The woman amazes me; she works, helps her husband with his job, and is raising a daughter. They chat and laugh lightly with each other, and I watch them with a new set of eyes. I’ve been around other couples. Meg has had plenty of boyfriends and girlfriends since she doesn’t believe her love to be gender specific. I see my sisters with their significant others, and they all seem to have this mask for appearances.
Cassidy and Hunter don’t have that. They are so unapologetically themselves and in love. They seem like more than just husband and wife. They are partners in every sense as well as best friends. While she talks about something she has going on, he listens intently and it’s so obvious the man is gone for her. He hangs on every word she says. If he offers input, she wants to hear it. They know how to tackle things together.
I watch them, not realizing that I might be staring for a little too long. I rub my legs together to warm up, and I notice a chill caught in my knees. A puff of cold air rushes past my lips, and I consider calling it a night. I would pull my chair a little closer to the fire, but they’re big and heavy.
“Damn, I’m sorry. I got so caught up talking to Hunter that I didn’t realize we were excluding you.” Cassidy shifts in her seat to face me.
“Don’t worry about it, I—” As I’m about to excuse myself, a blanket is tossed across my knees. Looking over my shoulder, I see Harrison standing over me, a beer in one hand and the other being shoved in his pocket.
“You looked cold,” he states before taking a pull from his bottle.
“I was. California gets cold, but not like this.” The blanket is warm, like it came out of a dryer. I place my hands on it to gather the heat. It feels good.
“So, have you gotten bored with all the nothingness out here?” Cassidy asks. I watch over her shoulder as Harrison walks over to greet Hunter. His brother stands from his chair, and they exchange a hug before they start speaking. Easy smiles cross their faces. Such a loving familiarity seems a little foreign to me. I’m not calling my family cold; I know my sisters and I all love each other, but we’re not so casual.
“Not at all. It’s actually refreshing. I’m able to get a ton of work done, and I feel like I have the option to do things if I want to.”
“Yeah, but not like California. I bet you’re dying for some good food,” she says with a dreamy sigh.
“Are you having a craving?” I joke with her.
“Hunter is basically a five-star chef. I only crave a good meal on the nights I cook.”
“We all do,” Harrison butts in, and Hunter punches him in the shoulder.
“Ow,” he complains, rubbing the contact spot.
“Your chicken and mac and cheese were great,” I offer, and Cassidy smiles at Harrison with a sheen of pride.
“That’s her best meal.” Harrison starts walking over to me. He drops his head close to my ear and whispers, “It’s all downhill from there.” I giggle and catch the hard stare of Hunter looking at us.
“Do you cook?” Hunter asks, his tone firm. I think he is expecting me to say no since I obviously seem like the kind of girl who can’t cook. Too bad for him I had Maria.
“I do. My best dishes are Italian, but I have a decent range.” I try to offer a gentle tone to ease some of Hunter’s tension. He will defend his wife to his deathbed, and I love that for them. Cassidy has told me herself that she is a poor cook, so I know that she doesn’t take any offense to Harrison poking fun.
“Italian?” Harrison asks.
“Yes, my um . . .” I pause, trying to think of the best way to describe Maria. “My caretaker growing up was Italian. She would cook for us, and I was attached to her hip.” Cassidy blinks a few times.
“Where was your mom?” Harrison presses.
“She was taking care of my sisters. They were all younger and needier than me. I was quiet and . . . different. I wanted to help take care of them. So, I learned to cook at a young age. That way, I could offer more than just keeping my sisters busy and diaper changes.”
Harrison sits on the arm of my chair, and I wonder how that looks to his brother and sister-in-law. When we laid down our “guidelines,” we didn’t talk about how we would handle the people around us. Cassidy and Hunter’s eyes both widen at the sight of Harrison close to me. I let out a sigh and look down at my mug. I don’t know how much they know, but if Harrison were honest, I don’t think they would be as kind to me as they have continued to be.
“That’s a lot for a little girl,” Hunter states. “I can’t imagine B having to feel like she has to take care of anyone. That shit would break my heart.” Cassidy glares at him, and I appreciate her defensiveness over me.
In a situation where Cassidy has a lot on her plate, such as a house full of children, I can tell Hunter would work himself to the bone to help her. He wouldn’t leave them on their own. His empire is his family, not his business.
“Right? If I have kids, I want them to be kids. They can help me whenever they want, but I don’t want them to feel responsible for me or their siblings,” I say.
“You want kids?” Cassidy asks.
“I think so. I’ve been thinking about it more lately since there are risks as I get older.”
“That’s bullshit,” she says fiercely. “You have plenty of time! Fuck all that noise. Just because you’re in your thirties doesn’t mean you have a time stamp on your uterus.”
Hunter and I both laugh. Cassidy looks at us and sits up straighter.
“I’m serious. If you don’t want kids, don’t let the pressure of others get to you. You can do whatever you want. Be a mom if you want. Be by yourself if you want. Have a farm full of dogs. Fuck what anyone thinks.” This is the kind of energy I need in my life.
Meg and Cassidy would get along so well. Meg is a lot like her in the support department. Their biggest difference is Meg is as sweet as it gets, so even if she is supporting me following my dream, she would secretly hope that includes a happily ever after.
“Yeah, fuck what anyone thinks,” I say lightly. The only thing is, I have to care what others think. That’s how it works out for us eldest daughters. When I leave here, I’m probably going to do what my parents want and settle things with Heath.
Harrison’s body heat is welcomed as the night continues. We all just sit around and talk about anything. I talk about my favorite things to cook and my favorite things to have cooked for me. Cassidy tells me about her cooking adventures. We all talk books and favorite reads. Everyone just fits together so easily. I know I’ll want to come back here for another vacation. Being around this family is so easy. I have a feeling we’ll all be friends even after I go back to California.
I wish I could have known them sooner.
“I wish Hunter would get us a hot tub,” Cassidy whines. The cider has been generously shared throughout the night. All of us are drinking to stay warm as the temperature continues to drop .
“I told you, y’all can use mine if you promise not to do anything weird,” Harrison offers, but that only causes Cassidy to heave out a loud huff and cross her arms.
“I can keep my end of the bargain,” Hunter states, giving her a hard stare.
“That only means you’re not as into me as I’m into you.” She glares back.
“No, it means I don’t want my brother catching us, again .” He emphasizes his last word.
This causes her cheeks to turn red, and she crosses her arms. “So, we’ll get one for our house then?”
“I’ll think about it, I—” The baby monitor blares on.
“Mama? Mama?” Blake’s voice is raspy with sleep.
“I’ll go.” Hunter stands to make his leave, but Cassidy stands with him.
“She wants her mama.” Cassidy has a rasp of her own to her voice, but I have a feeling it’s from the cider and maybe a little bit of the smoke from the fire.
“How about we call it a night? I’m ready to turn in, myself,” I offer so they can both head in without the worry to continue to host. I feel a gentle squeeze on my shoulder and look over to my left. Harrison’s hand is resting there, his body slightly behind mine.
When did that get there?
“I’ll drive you back. It’s cold,” he offers.
“Sounds perfect!” Cassidy claps her hands together and then grabs Hunter’s hand, basically dragging him in the direction of the house.
Once they’re through the back door, Harrison lets out a chuckle.
“She didn’t even take your mug,” he says, and I look down to see the empty cup in my hands.
“It’s all good. I’ll bring it to her another time. ”
“I know, I meant she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.” He takes the mug from my hands and stands. “She gets that way sometimes. She loves being around everyone, but she loves being by herself or alone with Hunter even more.” Harrison looks up at the house for a quick moment, then back down at me. He extends his free hand out to me, and I slide mine into it. The rough texture of his skin slides against the smooth, delicate surface of my own.
“Let’s get you out of the cold.”