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“It would hurt her,” I say out loud, my voice hitching with emotion.
“She’s not here, though.”
I blink away the tears and grab a spatula, tending to the omelets.
“I just can’t. I’m sorry. I know there’s an attraction, but—”
“You want me to go out with other women?” Harry demands, his tone harsh. “Is that what you really want?”
“It’s not about whether I want it, it’s about whether you do.”
“Did it feel right to you tonight? Being out with another man? Did it feel like you and me?”
Not even close. Harry brings out a side of me very few people ever have. When we’re together, the room always feels warmer. He makes me hot—with both anger and arousal. But that kind of pull isn’t sustainable. Would he still want me this much if he had me? If he’d been with me for a few years?
“Douglas isn’t the man of my dreams, no,” I admit. “I went out with him because my sister set me up. But I’m not jumping in your bed. I want to be in Avery’s life forever, and if we get involved and it goes bad, at least one of us will be bitter. It just can’t work, okay?”
“Only because you won’t even try.”
From his tone, I can tell Harry already feels bitter, but I’m not letting him guilt me into anything. Would it feel good to turn off my brain and give in to the attraction? Let Harry have me until we’re both exhausted?
It would feel amazing—until it didn’t anymore. And then what?
“My mom’s coming for a visit tomorrow,” he says, getting a glass of water from the dispenser in the refrigerator.
“What?”
I switch the heat off on the stove and turn to face him, too shocked to say anything else just yet.
“Yeah. She’s back from her trip and probably staying for a week or so.”
“How can you just drop this on me the night before? What time will she be here? Do I need to figure something out for dinner?”
“Early afternoon. And no, I’ll order food.”
I slide the omelets onto plates and Harry picks one up, getting a fork from the drawer.
“I’ll eat in my bedroom,” he says flatly.
“Big baby,” I mutter.
“Stubborn fool,” he mutters back.
Yeah, we’d make quite a couple.
I fume about our conversation while I eat my omelet. Harry’s not used to hearing the word no, and it’s driving him crazy. It makes me wonder though if that’s the only reason he keeps pushing so hard, or is it because he could really see a future with me. Either way, I’m not ever taking a chance on him.
Chapter Seventeen
Winter
I adore Harry’s mom.
I wasn’t sure what to expect from the woman who raised Harry, but I was prepared for her to be a viper, given how shrewd I’ve heard Harry be on business calls.
But Vivian Stone is warm, sweet and funny. She puts me at ease immediately when she tells me to call her Viv, and by the time Harry gets home from work, I feel like we’re already friends.
“Hello, dear,” she says, rising to greet him when he walks into the apartment. “You’ve got an absolutely darling roommate and I may never hand over my beautiful granddaughter.”
She’s tall and elegant, with short silver hair and pretty blue eyes. Avery took to her immediately, smiling and cooing. Even when Viv told me to go take some time for myself while she watched Avery earlier, I wanted to stay and talk to her instead.
“Hey, Mom,” Harry says, hugging her. “Good to see you.”
“You look good,” she says, putting her hands on his upper arms. “Still going to the gym, it feels like.”
“Every morning. Even when the little monster keeps me up all night.”
Harry comes over and picks Avery up from the play mat she’s laying on, kissing her round cheek. She laughs, but then starts wiggling to get back down.
“Is that thing the best thirty bucks we’ve ever spent or what?” Harry says to me, gently putting Avery back on the play mat, which has toys hanging from a bar over it.
“She loves it,” I say, standing up. “What can I get you guys to drink? Please, sit down and visit and let me get you something.”
“Dinner will be here in half an hour,” Harry says. “I ordered a couple bottles of wine with it.”
“Perfect, but what about the two of you?” Viv cracks, smiling.
“We’ll have to share the third bottle that you don’t drink,” Harry says in a wry tone.
“Stop that, Harrison. Winter will think I’m a total lush.”
“Harrison?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Yep,” he answers.
“You look more like a Harold.”
“Sure I do,” he returns, winking.
“Are you two…?” Viv points from Harry to me and then back at him again.
“No,” Harry answers. “Winter doesn’t think I’m good enough for her.”
“Harry!” My mouth drops open in mortification. “That is not the reason and you know it.”
