32. Harrison
Chapter 32
Harrison
D riving Harlow back to the bunkhouse takes every ounce of my moral strength. I don’t want to, but we have that whole no-sleeping-over clause. Which doesn’t make sense to me since we have a termination date anyway. We’re going to end things no matter what.
I’d rather not have to get out of my bed or hers afterward. I’d rather just lie there naked with her and wake up in the morning for possibly another round. Harlow is a stickler for being the mature one and making sure things don’t get messy.
We had gone for two more rounds, one in my bedroom and one in the kitchen when we went to get something to drink. I’ve never had sex anywhere but a bed before her. What started as sharing a cold glass of water led to her dropping to her knees, followed by my bending her over the counter.
I’ve walked in on Hunter and Cassidy before while they were enjoying themselves on the staircase, and it was horrifying. I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just wait to get to the bedroom. Now I know. I wouldn’t have waited to get to the bedroom if it had cost me a limb.
Harlow is spent. She’s fully relaxed in her seat and didn’t even bother with the buckle. I can tell her exhaustion is from more than just the physical aspects of our evening.
I don’t even know how to wrap my head around her arranged marriage. It’s so archaic. Surely if Cassidy hears about this, she’ll lose her damn mind. She’s all about supporting women and giving them the choice. I don’t know how to approach or work around this situation with Harlow, but I know Cassidy would be a great help. The only problem with that is that I would have to disclose everything, including the contract.
When I pull up to the bunkhouse, I notice that Harlow is already asleep. In less than five minutes, she’s sleeping like the dead.
“Darlin’,” I whisper as I put my truck in park.
She stirs a little, turning toward me.
“Darlin’, we’re back at the bunkhouse.” I brush her hair out of her face, rubbing my knuckles against her high cheekbones. Harlow leans into my touch, and I feel my heart skip a beat for a moment.
“Darling? Since when? It’s always witch or sorceress. I think I might have even heard you mutter evil one once.” She states with a raspy sleepy tone.
I chuckle in response.
“So, I’m heading out of town next weekend to go check out a litter of pups and a Hanoverian mare. Want to get out of town with me and help me pick a few new friends?”
“Yeah. If you tell me the name of the town, I might look and see if there is like a spa or something. I need a pedicure and maybe a massage.” Harlow stretches her arms above her head and yawns .
A spa? Out here? Or in Palos Valley? Not happening. She’ll have to do that when she gets home, sadly. Maybe Cassidy can take her into the city or something. They have all kinds of stuff like that up there. She could introduce Harlow to her friends and make another girls’ weekend out of it.
“I’ll ask Cassidy about that. She knows all about that stuff.” I hop out of the truck, walk Harlow up to the stairs, and kiss her goodnight. It feels kind of shitty going back to my place alone. We have less than a month left. I want to get as much time as possible. I want to hear more about the writing she had mentioned to me. I want more movie nights and dinners together.
I just want a little bit more .
Harlow
I didn’t go back to sleep last night. In fact, I didn’t go to sleep until about five this morning and woke back up at seven. I’m running on empty, and it’s never felt better.
After Harrison dropped me off, I had a cup of tea and snuggled up with Cleo in bed. I picked up some of my recent scribbles and read over them. Before I realized it, I was writing again.
This time, it wasn’t narrative in style. It was poetry. Writing is helping me enjoy the little things in life again. It’s taking the weight of any turbulent feelings off my shoulders.
This expression means more to me than any other hobby I’ve had. It’s a little all over the place, but I think that’s okay. I imagine that it doesn’t matter how I’m doing it as long as I am.
This current cup of coffee isn’t helping. I think I’m going to need a nap in a little bit. If it weren’t for Cleo scaring the shit out of me this morning by knocking over one of the decorative vases in the kitchen, I would still be asleep.
As I go to dump out this pointless coffee, I hear my phone buzzing on the counter. Too tired to communicate with anyone, I ignore it. After the buzzing stops, it starts right back up again. Whoever is calling me is calling back-to-back. If it’s work, it has to be important.
I’m shocked to find that it’s not work. It’s Meg. Fear crawls up my spine because we usually text unless it’s urgent.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Oh my God. Harlow. Don’t freak out.”
Oh yeah, that’s the perfect thing to say to make sure someone doesn’t freak out.
“What. Happened.”
“I went to The Olive Branch yesterday. There was this really great wine and art show going on, and I was meeting a Compatible date there. Well, this girl seemed great. Funny, artsy, sweet, charming. You name it. I think she really was a 98 percent match instead of 90 flat. The only thing is?—”
“Is there a reason you’re telling me not to freak out about your perfect match?” I interrupt.
“Oh yeah. Ummm, well the thing is, I guess your mom was an investor for the artist.” My face pales at her words, and I nod, closing my eyes.
“So, I might have seen your mother and sister, Hayleigh, there.” Oh, God. Why, of all my sisters, Hayleigh?
“And you know your sister. She was all like, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Harlow? Where’s Harlow? Is she here?” She mocks my sister’s tone, for some reason even making her sound a little British. Part of me wants to laugh, but the other part of me wants to jump into a black hole .
“What did you say?” I put the phone on speakerphone and go to the coffee pot to pour a fresh cup. The plan for a nap today is likely gone.
“Umm, I said, oh, she’s still on the island. I came back for a little bit for a work thing.” Meg is a terrible liar. I know they didn’t believe her.
“And then?”
“And then your sister looked at me with her evil eyes and said, ‘Oh . . . well, give her our best when you see her,’” Meg says in her bitchy British tone again.
“I’m fucked,” I say on a whine, pushing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Why is my family so fucking weird? I have to lie about vacation?! I’m in my thirties! This is so stupid.”
“Well, I’ll lay low until you get back. I promise. But if they reach out, that’s the story. Got it? I’ll be back on . . . how about Sunday?” Meg’s tone is so apologetic. It’s not her fault. It’s my own family drama.
“Girl. Thank you for telling me. How could you have known they would be the investors in an art show you were going to, especially on a Tuesday? Don’t sweat it. When they reach out, I’ll figure it out.” I hear Meg let out a heavy sigh, feeling bad when she doesn’t need to.
“Want me to give you the deets on Harrison and Heath?”
She lets out an excited noise. “You have news on both?! Dish. Tell me everything. I can sense it, you’re about to get your happily ever after! You’re going to be a real-life Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan, a real-life . . . oh em gee. What if you’re the next Morticia!”
Now we’re both laughing. I fill her in on both of the men in my life right now. One is my present and the other is my possible future. She asks for every detail of my interaction with Harrison, and I have no secrets from this girl, so I tell her. She makes panting sounds on her end of the line, and I laugh.
“You lucky bitch. You are having the best sex of your life over there, and you have a guy basically offering you the world over here. If I could kill you and slide into your skin, I would.”
I try to think of a joke, but I can’t. Harrison seems like the perfect guy for her, and even though nothing will come of it, I get a little jealous, which is completely unreasonable.
During our conversation, I migrate back to bed, my coffee untouched. Meg has soothed the previous anxiety she brought on. She hears me yawn multiple times before telling me to get some rest before my next rendezvous with Harrison. I don’t argue. I end the call and toss my phone aside.
Strange, throughout our entire conversation, and this whole morning, no one from my family has reached out.
Even stranger, neither has Heath.