Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
What a fucking day.
I couldn’t get out of that fundraiser fast enough. It feels like other executives are starting to tire of Calvin’s bullshit, but I think he has enough voting control of the board that it doesn’t really matter at this point.
He’s going to run Forrest Falls Hospital into the ground, but what do I know? I just run the numbers and need to stay in my lane, or so he told me directly tonight when I pushed back on him suggesting we needed to add another specialty to our services.
I just need to see my girl and forget everything else in this world.
Riding the elevator up to her floor, my shoulders lower a little, and my jaw relaxes knowing I’m close to her.
This is what she does to me—she gives me peace even just being in the same area.
Her presence calms my mind, and for someone whose mind is always running numbers and scenarios and risk factors, that’s saying a lot.
I use the key fob Harlow gave me the other night and quietly close the door behind me.
She left a small lamp on in the living room, so I didn’t walk into a dark room.
I can hear the shower running, and I don’t need a formal invitation to join.
Loosening my tie, I see a very large bag of my favorite twist pretzels and an envelope leaning against it with my name on it.
It’s on the kitchen island next to the roses I sent her—along with another obnoxiously large white bouquet and a box of chocolates.
I didn’t send her those.
Who the hell is sending my girl flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day?
I strip down in her bedroom and try to make noise, so I don’t startle her, but she doesn’t hear me until I open the shower door.
“Hell’s bells, Ryan! You scared the shit out of me!” she screeches as she presses a hand to her chest. Her hair is up in a sudsy pile on the top of her head, but my eyes are quick to drink in the rest of her glistening under the warm water.
“Sorry, Lo. But I have to admit, you aren’t the only one surprised tonight.” I close the shower door and pull her into my arms, gently pushing some of the suds back out of her eyes as she looks up at me.
She meets me halfway for a brief kiss before giving me a curious look. “What do you mean?”
“I saw my favorite pretzels out there—thank you for that—and I know I sent the roses, but who sent you the white flowers and chocolates? Is someone trying to impress my girl on Valentine’s Day?” I’m teasing, but also … not.
She waves away my concern. “No, no, not like that. They’re from Aisha. She probably went big this year because she’s in love with Eddie. You know how it goes. It’s easy to celebrate these types of things when you’re happy.”
“Oh, yeah? And are you happy, Lo?” I murmur into her ear as I start to kiss just below it and make my way down her neck, giving the base a gentle bite, making her giggle.
“Yes, I am profoundly happy, especially now that you’re here with me, Ry.”
I continue kissing across her shoulder, allowing my hand to roam down her back and caress her incredible ass. “Good answer, baby.”
As she reaches for her conditioner, I softly nudge her hand out of the way and place a soft kiss on her forehead.
There are other things I want to do with her tonight, but I will never pass up an opportunity to take care of her, even in the most basic ways.
I lift my chin in a silent directive, and Harlow hums in delight as I start to run my fingers through her hair, distributing the product.
I slowly work my fingers into her scalp, massaging small intentional circles, with her little groans of pleasure telling me when to pause and focus on a specific spot.
With the water cascading down her ivory skin, and the steam billowing around us, she really looks like a goddess.
My goddess.
She tilts her head back, and I help her rinse her hair out before reaching down and lifting her with both of my hands under her thighs, turning to hold her against the wall. Our foreheads are pressed together, our breath combining with the steam of the shower.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ryan,” she softly says as her fingers run through my hair.
I love the way she plays with my hair, and the soft tug she gives when I kiss her deeply.
She tilts her hips, lining me up just right.
The steam smells like everything Harlow—vanilla and whatever that delicate floral scent is in the perfume she wears—and the combination is almost enough to make me come before I’m even all the way home.
Tonight isn’t about grand gestures, but I have to hold back the words that are on the tip of my tongue.
The phrase of three very important words is already true.
I’m so far gone for this woman, and I want to tell her how deeply I’ve fallen for her.
I’m also aware that neither of us has ever had a relationship this intense before, and I never want to scare her off.
There’s something in my gut telling me to wait to confess how I feel.
It’s not a feeling of questioning or doubt—it’s an urge to be patient.
So, I let our bodies do the talking. The confessions. The declarations. While it’s an assumption, I swear her body is saying the exact same thing back to mine.
And despite my best effort, I can’t hold back the visceral groan that escapes me as I pull out just in time to spill my release over her lower abdomen, barely holding off until after she found her own release.
I lean a little of my weight into her, grounding us as we both come back to reality.
I press my lips to her forehead as my heart rate starts to slow from such an intense encounter.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Lo,” I murmur against her skin and she hums in content. I’ve never really had a valentine before, but I plan on keeping this one.