38. Harrison
Chapter 38
Harrison
“ L et me see that baby!” Cassidy rips out of the house and runs up to me. She’s practically feral with excitement.
“The baby?!” I ask with a laugh.
She looks around me.
“Where’s the puppy? You said you picked one.” Cassidy puts her hands on her hips, upset that I’ve shown up empty-handed. Hunter follows her out the front door with Blake in his arms.
“She’s got two more weeks at the Kings. I’ll have to drive and pick her up when I can find the time. They said anytime between eight to twelve weeks would be fine.”
“Let me see all the pictures you got!” she demands.
“Ha-Ha!” Blake squeals, reaching her arms toward me.
I start walking toward them, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. I open the photo album and stop dead in my tracks, my brows shooting up to my hairline. The first picture I see is a selfie of Harlow, her face full of delight and held-in laughter. She’s holding up one finger in a shh motion as I lie naked and tied up behind her. Honestly, I could have still had my briefs on; I can’t tell because her head blocks my lower half.
I laugh a little and swipe over to the pictures of Majesty and Red. Her name will change, but I haven’t thought of the right one yet. I hold my phone out to Cassidy, and she takes it. Quickly, I pull Blake into my arms and kiss her cheek.
“Don’t swipe more than three photos in either direction.”
Cassidy freezes and looks over to Hunter.
“You Hill boys really like dirty pics, don’t you?”
I cough and close my eyes.
“I don’t want to know what my brother likes,” Hunter grumbles.
“Ditto,” I laugh.
After we head inside, Cassidy fawns over the puppy pictures, and Hunter looks over Majesty’s photos. We catch up and talk the afternoon away. Throughout multiple points in the conversation, I can see my brother’s brows turn up. I wonder what kind of thoughts are running through his head.
Cassidy has gone upstairs to put Blake to bed, and Hunter’s in the kitchen grabbing us two beers. When he returns to the room, he has his keys in hand rather than beer.
“Let’s head to The Draft.”
“What about the girls?”
“Cassidy’s cool with it. I want to get some of that sweet potato beer Silas is raving about. Bet it tastes like shit.” He smiles.
When we arrive at the bar, it’s dead. Most of the locals have headed home. Some out-of-towners sit at a high-top in the corner, but the bar is completely free.
I take up my usual seat and so does Hunter. Silas isn’t at the bar; in fact, no one is. The fact that this town is so loyal that he just leaves his bar unattended says something. We sit for a minute and Hunter types on his phone, not saying much.
When Silas comes from the back, he smiles and tips his chin in greeting.
“What can I get for you guys?”
“I want that SP Stout you’ve been raving about,” Hunter replies with a snarky tone.
“Sold out, I’m afraid. It was that good.”
Hunter grumbles and looks back down at his phone.
“Just local lagers,” I answer for the two of us.
While Silas grabs our drinks, I pull out my phone and see a message from Harlow. I let her know that I was going out with Hunter tonight, so I wouldn’t be around.
Witch: Sounds good. I am catching up on some work and am overdue for a Facetime date with Meg.
I wonder for a moment if Harlow Facetimes Heath, as well, but force myself to not care or think about it for long.
I am in the middle of typing my reply to her when I hear the sound of a full glass being set in front of me.
Me: Want me to stop by on my way back?
I hear Hunter clear his throat, but I ignore him while I watch the dots from Harlow’s response appear.
Witch: If you want to. If it’s past 10:30, we’ll just do it another day. I’ll likely be in bed by then.
Silas clears his throat to my right, and I pocket my phone. When I look up at the two of them, their eyes are on me.
“Tell Silas what you told me at the house,” Hunter states.
“What did I tell you at the house?” I take a drink.
“About your trip with Harlow.” He drinks.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to get your shit together before she leaves.”
I recoil quickly.
“Uh, okay.” I look over to Silas. “So, we drove there, and I did this spa thing for her one night and?—”
“No, tell it the way you did to Cassidy,” Hunter interrupts.
“Why does Cassidy get the better version?” Silas pouts.
“They’re not that different,” I offer.
“The fuck they aren’t.”
I think back on the conversation we had at their house and try to recite it to my best ability. Silas listens and nods, and Hunter asks the questions Cassidy did with freakish memory. Once I finish, I look at the two of them as they share a look.
“Yup, you were right.” Silas gets off the stool he pulled up for himself behind the bar, makes his way over to a fridge, and reaches to the back. He pulls out an unlabeled bottle and slides it over to Hunter. “One of the last bottles. You’re going to be pissed you didn’t get more.” Hunter gives a small smirk and uses his wedding ring to pop the cap off.
I look at them with a questioning gaze, and Hunter sighs.
“You’ve fallen for Harlow. We’re not saying it’s a bad thing, we’re just saying you weren’t able to keep it casual, and you’re about to get hurt. ”
I frown deeply.
“I have not fallen for her. I just really like spending time with her.” I gulp down some of my beer.
“Why are you pretending you’re not in love? We are your best damn friends,” Silas offers.
“Can’t I love her like a friend?”
“No, because we know that’s not you. You love Cassidy like a friend. You love CeCe like a friend. Hell, the women you’ve dated until now, you’ve loved like a friend. This is different from anything I’ve seen. You’ve been happier, lighter, more focused, all while being completely obsessed with her.” Silas nods at Hunter’s points.
“Okay, so what? Let’s say I do love her. It doesn’t matter, she’s leaving to be with another man, anyway.”
“What?!” Silas reels at the news.
“Yeah, her parents are setting her up with some elite business guy. Wish he was a douche, but he’s not. He’s perfect for her.” I finish my beer, and Silas immediately pours another for me.
“So, what are you going to do? You told me and Cassidy it was part of your agreement that you would still be free to date and try to find a real partner. When was the last time you went out on a date or talked to a girl that wasn’t her?” my brother drills.
“I don’t know.”
“Then open that damn app and maybe download another. It’s time for you to find someone for you for real.” He wants me to have what he has and knows that I’ve been dreaming about a family my whole life.
“Okay. I will. She leaves in two weeks. I’ll get back into the swing of things then.”
“No. Now,” they say in unison, and then look at each other with annoyed looks .
I relent and open my phone in front of them. I re-download the app I had deleted, and then Hunter grabs my phone and downloads Country Charm, too. I roll my eyes at his actions.
“Oh Em Gee. Let’s make his profile,” Silas says cheekily, and I can’t help but laugh.
For the next half hour, we drink, and they build my dating profile with my input. CeCe even came over to help after she got back from the rec center. What started out as “dreamy small-town guy looking for his country princess” turned into “simple rural business owner looking for a serious partner.” The pictures they picked are decent; CeCe even filled us in on the rules.
“Only two or less group shots, no filter photos, only one shirtless, if any, and only put a fishing picture if she should expect her partner to fish every weekend.”
We settle on a picture from Hunter and Cassidy’s wedding where it’s obvious I’m not the one getting married, a picture of me on horseback, another of me at the Saturday market, and the last is a picture of me with Blake. Blake’s face is covered with an emoji and my shirt reads “World’s Okayest Uncle.”
When we get back, it’s 10:20 or so. I drive my truck down the dirt roads on our property but stop when I hit the fork that separates Harlow and me. It’s before her cut-off time, but there’s this pathetic urge to squeeze in there last minute because I want to. If she really wanted me to come by, she would have said so without the time restraint.
I let out a sigh and turn left, heading to my place to look through these apps without a bunch of nosy people over my shoulder.
Emma (30)—boring and basic.
Lilliana (28)—looking for fun and I’m not .
Georgia (30)—beautiful . . . but not nearly as beautiful as her.
Her.
Will I spend the rest of my life comparing women to her? I know that this was so I could practice being casual and recognize when something is real. That doesn’t make the fact that I have strong feelings for Harlow any easier.
Everyone is so convinced I’m already in love with her, but can’t I just love the person she is?
I love so many things about her, just like I love so many things about Cassidy. I love my brother and best friends. My parents. My livestock. It can be a different kind of love; it doesn’t have to be romantic.
I go to bed with my brows pinched together, and my lips tightly shut. I have two more weeks with Harlow, and I don’t know how to spend them.