25. Harlow
Chapter 25
Harlow
Heath: I saw this coat and thought of you. Did I miss the mark?
Heath: Image attached.
J aw-dropping beauty. A Hermès black trench coat, slim in all the right areas, a belt that won’t hang loose, and black and gold marbled buttons.
Heath: Without sounding like an ass, if you send me your measurements, I can have it tailored if needed.
Not an ass at all; part of coming from money means I know the value of well-tailored clothing. It’s the difference between wearing a piece and a piece being worn by you. I close out my messages and open the browser, searching the Fall Hermès Collection, but nothing shows up. I search summer and the previous spring, but nothing comes up.
Me: It’s actually gorgeous. I can’t find it on the website?
Heath: Interesting.
Me: Very.
I type “Hermès women’s trench” into my search browser; still nothing.
Me: Not even showing on a general search?
Heath: Strange. Well, no matter.
Me: Big matter.
Heath: So, you like the coat enough to search for it? That’s good news.
I let out a quick huff. There is no point in pretending I don’t like it. I was the one who told him at dinner that I enjoyed the finer things in life due to my upbringing.
Would I spend a couple grand on a coat? Probably not, not even this beauty. There’s an appreciation that resonates within me regarding how considerate it is. I can’t help but wonder if this will all wear off once all the paperwork and logistics are done.
Let’s say I marry Heath. We have a wedding; we have a kid. What kind of life would I have? He said he’s looking for a busy wife. He doesn’t want to have to entertain someone, so why is he putting all this effort in now?
Me: Are you trying to buy my affection?
Heath: Another question! No, I just thought it was a nice gesture. If you weren’t in a tropical setting I’d get this coat to you now. It’s perfect for the fall.
Me: So, once we’re married and we’re both busy, the gifts will stop?
Heath: Your consideration is not going unnoticed.
I roll my eyes before reading on.
Heath: Not at all. I want us to be busy. I don’t want you to be waiting for me, but I would very much like to spoil you.
Me: I can spoil myself.
Heath: I know you can spoil yourself . . . like with the trip you’re on right now. Spoiling someone doesn’t have to be because they can’t. It can be because I want to.
Me: Do you want kids?
Heath: If you would like kids, then yes. If you do not, absolutely not.
Me: No desire to keep the House name alive?
Heath: So, no? No, we don’t have to have a kid to do that. When it comes to business, I’ll find the right successor.
Me: I didn’t say I don’t want kids. I’m just asking if you have your own preference.
Heath: My preference is yours.
He’s being too flexible. It’s annoying instead of charming.
Me: You’re losing points.
Heath: What’s my current score?
I laugh at that one, enjoying the verbal sparring, which makes a whole lot of sense because most of my conversations with Harrison have been flirtatious banter.
Me: -10.
Heath: Rough.
Me: I know.
Me: So . . .
Heath: I think if I want to spoil you, a miniature version of you would make me putty in their hands.
Damn, that’s endearing. So, he’d be a good father or at least one who would want to give his children the world. I would want to give them that kind of opportunity, too. The kind where they always know we have their back no matter what, and that if they’re in trouble, they have someone in their corner. The kind where they don’t have to worry about anything except being a kid and being happy.
Talking with Cassidy has opened my eyes in so many ways. Parenting is one of them. Her upbringing was practically the opposite of mine. Only one parent, no siblings, and a tight budget. Her appreciation for the people around her, for the love she has for her partner, and for their health and happiness are inspiring.
She wants to give Blake the world, just like Heath seems to for his future kid.
Me: That sounds like a yes.
Heath: I guess it is.
I hear the sink in the bathroom and close out my phone. Harrison messaged me when he was wrapping up to see what I had planned for the evening. When he walks out, it’s with that same boyish look he always has whenever our eyes meet.
After last night, he seems to blush a pinch more easily than before. Once we had made our way back into the house, I tried to rekindle the moment, but Harrison told me we had plenty of time and that I needed water and rest—something about the alcohol and hot tub making me more dehydrated than normal.
He ended up saving my butt there because if we ended up taking it further, he likely would have been met with a little blood since my period started today. Which could explain why I feel a little moodier than usual.
“Ready for that drink?” I ask, sitting at the counter.
The boyish look on Harrison’s face is washed away by a more serious one. He looks around the space and then back at me. His assessment seems peculiar, and I wish I could get a look inside his brain for a minute.
“Yeah, how was your day?”
He’s a mixture of easy company and annoyance. The space between us holds tension, but neither of us try to put on any fronts. Every one of our interactions has been natural and without any guise.
“It was uneventful; I started my cycle today, so I slept most of it.” And just like that, I told Harrison, who is my contracted sexual partner, that my vagina is bleeding. That is exactly what I’m talking about when I say things seem simple and natural. During heavy periods, I can get anemic, so I get extra tired and cold .
“Is that why you’re little a little snuffed out today?” Is it weird that I really like that he isn’t grossed out and is more perceptive?
“Yeah, I have occasional anemia without the monthly gorefest, but it sometimes gets worse with it.” I pour myself a glass of wine and then look up to him. “Wine or beer?
“Wine’s good. Let’s go to the couch and get you comfortable. Have you eaten anything? I could make you a steak and some greens. It will be good for you,” he replies with ease.
I stand there shocked at his consideration. It’s different from Heath’s, which is sweet, as well. I have only nibbled on things here and there due to my complete lack of appetite, but I don’t want Harrison to cook for me after working outside all day.
“I have, so just enjoy a drink with me.” I go to pour a glass for him, but he stands and comes around the counter. Taking the bottle from my hand, he puts his free hand on my hip.
“Go sit on the couch, Harlow.” Harrison uses a firm tone with me, which is a little out of character. Outside of the first time I met him or that time after the bar, he’s been as gentle as they come. I don’t argue with him, because I’m fatigued. Truth be told, I am just feeling a little lonely and emotional. I want some company.
I sit on the couch and watch as he moves around the kitchen, rummaging in my fridge and drawers.
While I wait I pull out my phone.
Me: What’s your work schedule look like?
Meg: Well, I work mostly remote so that really doesn’t matter.
Me: You know it does.
Meg: Things are slowish as we’re getting closer to the holidays.
Meg: What’s up?
Me: Want to come visit? I think you’d like how quaint this town is.
Meg: YOU MISS ME.
Meg: YOU LOVE ME.
Meg: YOU ARE HAVING WITHDRAWALS.
Meg: ADMIT IT.
Me: -_-
Meg: Ooooor you’re on your rag.
Meg: How about I come out there for Halloween? We could find a bar to go to.
Me: I know just the place. Should I book your flights?
Meg: No, just tell me where to fly, and I’ll take care of the rest.
Me: 3
Harrison comes to the small living space and sets our wine glasses down on the coffee table, then retreats to the kitchen and grabs two small plates. They’re messy but cute, holding almonds, salami and cheese rolled up together, and some fresh fruit. Last, he runs back for a box of crackers. I won’t tell him this is practically all I’ve eaten today anyway because it’s the thought that counts for me.
With everything set up, he grabs the throw off the wingback and tosses it over his shoulder. He sits down but takes a moment to get us settled. I have my glass and plate, my legs are draped over his lap, the throw covers us, and he holds the remote, searching for something to watch.
“Pick your poison,” he tells me.
“Another witch joke after being so sweet.” My tone is saccharine.
“Nah, I say that all the time. Even to B when she’s picking a book.”
I think it’s sweet how tight this family is. I’m closest to Helen out of my sisters, but not like Harrison and Hunter. They get along and enjoy each other’s company enough to be neighbors. Harrison is a permanent fixture in Cassidy and Blake’s life, and they all like it like that. They all rely on each other.
I wonder what Hunter and Cassidy’s wedding was like. I wonder what my wedding will be like.
When Heath and I decide to go through with this, will it be in a courthouse? My mother would die, but I think I would prefer it that way. I don’t foresee a romantic day for the two of us. I’m a little lost in thought when I hear Harrison clear his throat, waiting for my response.
“Umm . . .” I rack my brain trying to think of something I want to watch, but after a day like today and on a night like right now, all I want is a comfort movie.
“How about Labyrinth ?”
“Like the one with that weird monster with the eyes on its hands?”
I laugh lightly. “No, that’s Pan’s Labyrinth . I’m talking about the one with Jennifer Connelly and David Bowie.”
“Never seen it.” He mentioned that he didn’t spend a lot of time watching shows or movies. I guess small towns really do keep things as simple as possible .
He types Labyrinth into the search queue and finds the movie I’m talking about. We need to rent it, and I assure him I’ll pay him back. He reads the description, a furrow in his brows.
“How old is this movie?” he asks, and I laugh in response.
“Older than you.”
He doesn’t like that response.
“Is this like sci-fi?” He rents the movie and starts it up for us.
“No no, more fantasy than anything.”
“Romantic fantasy?” He wiggles his brows.
“I guess you could consider it that way.” Jennifer Connelly comes onto the screen, and I’m brought back to my own home, sitting on the couch with Meg, enjoying one of our favorite movies.
I’m so relieved she’s coming to visit. I won’t admit it to her, but I guess I do kind of miss her. We might be opposites, but we get each other. I had never had anyone in my life who wasn’t anything like me but loved every aspect of me, until her. On my best and worst days, she’s there to celebrate or hold me while I cry.
If I marry Heath and it’s loveless, at least I’ll always have the love of my best friend.
We watch the movie, eating our snacks and drinking our wine. When Harrison finishes his food and wine, his hands move to my feet, mindlessly massaging. It feels amazing when he kneads deep into the soles before moving to push and pull the rest of my feet and calves.
David Bowie sings and I hum along, occasionally singing quietly. If Meg were here, we would be screaming these lyrics. Not a tune to carry, but fun. Harrison occasionally looks over to me with a tender smile, especially when I sing. He’s done massaging, but he continues to keep his hands on me.
“What’s your favorite movie?” I ask, and Harrison shifts his eyes from the movie, invested in Ludo and how obviously cute he is.
“Probably The Sandlot ,” he answers.
“Do you like baseball?”
“Um . . . yeah, I do. We all played together as kids. Our friend Andre made it big. We all just did it for fun. I was in Little League for a couple of years, and after a losing game Hunter would give me his desserts and we would watch that movie over the weekend. It’s a comfort. We never got sick of it.” I smile and poke him in the side with my toes.
“We’ll have to watch that one next.”
Harrison grins at me.
“Tell me some other movies you like.” His eyes are on the screen, and I think to myself.
“ The Addams Family, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Royal Tenenbaums, Kill Bill, Pulp Fiction, The Fifth Element, Serenity, The Raid, The Lord of the Rings .” Those are the ones that come to my mind right away.
“My brother loved reading The Lord of the Rings when he was younger. It was one of his favorite series. I liked the movies, but not so much the books. I enjoyed Harry Potter more.”
“ Harry Potter is amazing!” I say excitedly. Harrison stifles a laugh at my excitement.
“We’ll have to do a marathon since we’re closing in on Halloween.”
“My friend is coming to stay and celebrate Halloween with me. Wait. Should I have asked you about that?” I suddenly feel bad for inviting someone to Harrison’s place without his consideration .
“Nah, you’re good. It’s not like y’all are throwin’ a party.”
“No no, I just love her company and miss her something fierce,” I say softly because I do. “But when she gets here, don’t tell her that. It will make her head bigger than it already is.”
Harrison laughs and nods. “You got it.”
We continue watching the movie, and I lie deeper on the couch. I can feel Harrison trying to get comfortable at the other end, so I scooch to the edge and look over at him.
“Come lie with me.” I look over my shoulder at the space I made for him.
Without argument, he lies behind me, propping his head on a pillow a little higher than mine. He wraps his strong arm around my shoulders, and I feel myself sink deep into his hold.
The movie plays, and I feel his fingers playing with my hair. It’s not intentional, just simple motions. Twisting, curling, an occasional scratch at my scalp. It makes me think of the kind of attention I give to Cleo when she cuddles me. After this, I know why she loves it. We finish the movie like this, curled up on the couch, Harrison giving me tons of attention and me soaking it all up.
It’s exactly what I didn’t realize I needed.