26. Harrison
Chapter 26
Harrison
C asual is a lot easier than I expected. I’m handling it better than everyone thought I would. In the back of my mind, I know that Harlow is leaving in a few weeks. It’s simple.
We’ve spent almost every evening together talking, watching movies, and relaxing. Two of those nights Harlow gave me more of those earth-shattering blow jobs. I tried to deny her, but it wasn’t happening. I guess when Harlow is on her cycle, she has more sexual energy than she knows what to do with. Whenever I tried to help her with that, she would just use a small vibrator.
First of all, I work on a farm, so a little blood won’t freak me out. Second, it’s natural and happens every month.
I could see by day three that she was a little paler than usual. She lacked her usual vibrance, even if it’s a little on the dark side. She would fatigue easier, and her appetite was shot. The weather has gotten cooler since her arrival, so I brought her soup and stew, which she loved.
I’m loving the exposure to new things. When we talk and relax, Harlow plays all types of music. From bluegrass to metal, her taste is across the board. There hasn’t been anything I haven’t liked. She enjoys this band called Crystal Castles that I’ve never heard of—even the style was new to me.
I’m not getting used to a routine with her because I remind myself daily that this has an expiration date. It really does make things easier.
Why did everyone make it seem like this was going to be much harder than it is? Why haven’t I tried this sooner?
I was wrong.
I’m pathetic, and I miss Harlow.
Her friend Meg arrived yesterday, so I don’t anticipate that I’m going to get to see her tonight. I originally thought this was fine, but that also means I won’t see her for however long this girl will be visiting. I’m sure she has a life to get back to.
Today is Saturday, so if she leaves on Monday or Tuesday that means I’ll still have about three more weeks with Harlow. I want to make our time together worth it. Not to mention, I haven’t fully had her yet. Our trysts are heated, and I enjoy each of them, but I want more of her. I want to feel her under me, riding me, and then take care of her after. I want to show her that I can take control like I had the first time and bring her pleasure.
Tonight is Silas’s first Halloween event at The Draft. Usually, the rec center throws a little party and locals would stumble into his place after. This year, he and CeCe wanted to do something of their own. He has special cocktails planned, the debut of his fall brew, and CeCe made a couple of creepy snacks. I’ll hop over there to occupy my time.
Me: Is this a costume party?
Silas: You are a grown-ass man. Did you really just ask me if I’m hosting a “costume party” at my bar?
Me: Yes.
Silas: It absolutely is. You better come dressed up or no entry.
I rock back on my heels and open a new text.
Me: Your brother is telling me I have to dress up to come in. Is that true?
CC: Do you really even have to ask? -_-
Me: Right. Are you going to be there?
CC: Yes.
Me: See you there.
CC: K.
Slipping on my boots, grabbing my jacket, and tossing on my Stetson, I head out.
Damn, I am so proud of Silas .
The place is absolutely packed. He and CeCe went all out. The bar usually has a calm glow about it, but tonight they switched the lightbulbs out with some red-orange tones. It looks like a vampire’s lair. There are candelabras and spiderwebs on every table. A fog machine must be going as a mist lightly coats the floor.
Looking around, I see practically no one is dressed up, save for a few women in scantily clad outfits and one guy in a toga. I bet he’s freezing.
Making my way to the bar, I wave to Silas who returns the wave with a jerk of his chin. CeCe is jogging up from the back and spots me; running up, she wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug.
“Please tell me you’re here to help!” she yells over the music.
Ah, that’s why she was short. Stress.
“Of course, where do you want me?” I give her a little squeeze and shrug out of my coat. CeCe hands me a small pad of paper and a pen.
“Grab orders, run drinks, do anything!” She hates crowds and busy nights, which is why she sticks to the behind-the-scenes work and working with kids at the rec center. Adults, especially needy drunk adults, are a nightmare for her.
I grab the pad from her and push her back behind the bar.
“Three Red Rangers and another basket of witches fingers.”
I take a table’s order and then move over to the next, but I stop dead in my tracks when I’m met with a beautiful woman. Short, curvy, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sweet smile. She’s wearing a mustard sweater dress with long sleeves that stops mid-thigh. Thick legs in creamy tights lead to brown ankle boots. A few weeks ago, this girl would have had my heart pounding out of my chest, but today a sadness hits me.
Is this my dream girl and am I not responding the way I should because I’m in the middle of a contractual relationship? Wasn’t part of our guidelines to go ahead and keep looking for my forever and end things with her earlier if I do?
“Hey, what can I get for you?” I barely get out.
Her smile grows wider.
“Damn, she wasn’t lying. There is something in the water here,” she says with a rounded tone, looking me up and down then over my shoulder.
I stand there slightly confused for only a moment before I follow her eyes and see Harlow standing in all her dark, gorgeous glory.
She’s talking to Silas, his smile wide as he takes her in. Half of her hair is artfully twisted up with the rest flowing in loose curls around her shoulders. When she turns a little to wave to CeCe, I see a few curled loose pieces framing her face. She’s wearing black, which isn’t a surprise.
Her outfit consists of tight black pants, her black combat boots, and a blazer, rolled up just above her wrists. I catch a few gold bangles I haven’t seen her wear before. A few nods to Silas and she turns to me, and I’m struck all over again. Under that blazer is a lacy, olive bodice tucked into her pants. The pattern is a mixture of snakes and vines, the thickest collection of both over her nipples to shield them from the public eye. A long gold serpent necklace hangs on her alabaster sternum.
I have to remind myself to breathe.
Holy shit.
I am truly under this woman’s spell.
When Harlow walks up to us, she wraps me in a one-armed hug and smiles darkly at me.
“Hey, kid, this is Meg. Did you introduce yourself?” She releases me, and I realize I have been ignoring the blonde since I set my sights on Harlow.
I blink a few times and shake my head.
“Harrison!” A loud and distinct voice calls. I turn to my left and see Cassidy slink her way through the crowd and approach the table where Meg sits.
“Hey, Cass.” I greet her with a hug and then look over at the three girls. Cassidy is dressed in a Rob Zombie shirt, dark jeans, and a suede jacket.
Each of them looks so different. All lovely, without a doubt, but Harlow has this beauty that only exists in folklore. If she told me one day that she really was a witch or fairy, I wouldn’t be surprised.
I shake myself from a web of distractions and smile at the group. Zoning in on Meg, I smile a little brighter, trying to make a good impression. Cassidy doesn’t miss it, but I think it’s because she knows my usual type.
“Welcome to Pebble Creek, Meg, I’m Harrison, owner of the little hideout Harlow is staying at, brother-in-law to this firecracker, and apparently part-timer here at this bar,” I say lightly, and she returns my smile. “Now, let me get something started for you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Silas is sending something over,” Harlow says.
I only offer a nod and smile in response before running back to the bar. I have another table’s order, and they’ve been waiting long enough.
Time seems to move both quickly and at a snail’s pace. I help Silas and CeCe out with whatever they need. CeCe has retreated to the kitchen after her boyfriend, Russ, pulled up to help. I see some regulars from a few other bars I visit in neighboring towns, so word must have gotten out. I want to tend to Harlow, Cassidy, and Meg, but we’re too busy. At one point, I see Cassidy just walk up to the side of the bar and Silas hands her three beer bottles without question.
Smart Silas. I wouldn’t dare go up against her.
I finally feel like I’m caught up on everything enough to relax. My phone had gone off a few times in my pocket, but I had to ignore it.
Hunter: If the girls drink too much, mind driving them back?
Hunter: How’s things at the bar?
Hunter: Everything okay?
Hunter: Do I need to pack up B and come get the girls?
Completely whipped, that man.
Me: No, I’ll get them home if they need it. All is good. It’s the busiest I’ve ever seen this place.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I turn around and look back over to the table Harlow was occupying. Instead of seeing her, Cassidy, or Meg, right away I see the broad back of a man who’s leaning against their high-top. He’s accompanied by two other guys, and they all flock to the women like flies on manure.
I shift around a few people to try and get a better look. When I am finally able to visualize the girls, I see Cassidy holding her chin with her hand, flashing her big ol’ wedding ring.
Meg’s mouth is moving a mile a minute in tandem with the guy I first spotted. One of the guys is wearing a black beanie, a tight shirt, and black jeans. He’s shorter than me, likely shorter than Harlow, but much bigger than me in muscle. This guy is ignoring the conversation going on in the group and has his eyes set on Harlow. For the first time I see her bewitched, staring lovingly at her friend Meg while she talks.
This guy can’t take his eyes off her, and whatever Meg just said has everyone but him laughing. He’s lost in the conversation and under the same spell I am. Harlow’s laugh isn’t loud like Meg’s or Cassidy’s. She puts a hand over her mouth and shakes. Meg’s laugh is so loud, it can be heard over the music and causes multiple heads to turn her way.
The beanie boy walks beside the table to get closer to Harlow, and I get close enough to the table to eavesdrop.
“So, California?” he starts, and Harlow’s inky-black eyes bore into him. It causes him to stand as tall as he can. He’s in over his head, thinking that her thin frame means she is little. If only she’d stand from the barstool and show him she’s taller and out of his league.
“Yeah, it’s definitely a lot different from here.” I’m immediately pissed that she’s even entertaining a conversation. We have a contract. She doesn’t need the company of some other small-town fuckwad.
“I bet; you definitely don’t look like the usual small-town girl.”
“I don’t?” She acts as if she’s insulted.
Assessing the table, none of them do. Cassidy seems to blend in better than the rest, but only because she’s been here a few years.
“Not at all. I’d notice if a girl like you was in a town like this.” God, could this guy be any cheesier?
“I get that a lot,” she jokes. I gave her similar shit when I first met her, except mine was a lot less flirtatious.
“Really? I bet they don’t mean it the way I do.” This guy actually fucking winks at her, and to my complete shock, a quick laugh escapes her. The guy practically lights up the bar, he’s so happy with her response.
“Sorry,” she starts, wiping a little spit from the corner of her mouth. “That was just so cheesy, this whole interaction is. I can’t take you seriously. Does this shit actually work when women come to this town? Am I so far from civilization that a few halfhearted lines get women riled up?”
Beanie Boy gets uncomfortable with her harsh words, and she takes this as her cue to leave. When she stands, the guy’s eyes travel up and meet her eyes. He looks down to see how big her heels are, and, to my surprise, she lifts one foot a little to show it’s only a small chunk of rubber on the bottom of her combat boots. When his eyes make their way back up to her face, she gives him a smug look. This has to happen to her all the time.
“I’m going to run to the washroom,” she states, taking off for the small hall in the back. I set off after her, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Silas trying to flag me down. He likely needs me to get back to helping him, but I have to take care of something first.
It’s not the bar that needs my attention, it’s my hot-as-fuck tenant.