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Later that night.
When I enter the Bean Bar, I see that the coffee shop’s packed wall to wall with people, and I’m impressed. For some reason, I envisioned just a small crowd but instead, the big tables, high-tops, and lounge chairs are pretty full. The crowd is quite a mix too, with young families, hipsters, and older couples. Even a few teenagers have found a couch and are piled on it, staring at their phones as they wait for the show to begin.
I take a seat at a small table in the back. To be honest, I haven’t been to too many coffee shop concerts in my life because I’m more of an owner’s box, VIP ticket kind of guy. But then again, I’ve also never dated someone like Harlow.There’s a first time for everything, I muse while taking a sip of my cappuccino.This is damn good coffee, too.
After all, I’m not exactly someone who hangs out at coffee shops drinking joe on a Friday night. It’s not that I’m anti-social by any means, but I’ve always been so busy with my medical practice that I almost never made time for fun. My career has always taken precedence. But over the last couple of months, my life has changed because of the curvy girl, and if I’m being honest with myself, I love it.
Someone dims the lights and then the small stage at the front is illuminated. I watch as a young man hops onto the raised landing, looking almost like a puppy with his floppy brown hair and eager demeanor.
“Hey everyone, thanks for coming out to our first show ever. The Bean Bar is excited to have you, and we’re super stoked to welcome our first performer of the evening, Harlow Bauer!” The crowd gives a surprisingly rowdy round of applause, along with a few hoots and whistles.
At that moment, my woman steps onto the stage from behind a side curtain and smiles warmly at the host. The breath catches in my throat because Harlow’s never looked more stunning. She’s got a fitted green dress draped over those lovely curves with a denim jacket wrapped around her waist, emphasizing her hourglass figure. Her brunette locks are swept to the side and her cheeks are that perfect shade of pink that makes her look so fresh and sweet. I feel my heart clench as I take in her beauty.
“Thanks Jeremy,” she says before turning her attention to the audience. “Hi everyone, I’m Harlow and thanks for having me. I’ll be singing a few original songs for you tonight, and I hope you enjoy them.”
A grin spreads across my face as the beautiful woman situates herself on a tall stool behind the microphone. Then she strums her guitar for a minute, her eyes closed as she listens to the chords. A second later, she opens them once more and looks across the crowd. When her eyes meet mine, she smiles and to my surprise, my heart melts inside my chest. Shit, what is she doing to me? But Harlow merely plows on ahead, smiling that secret smile.
“This one is one that’s especially special to me because I wrote it for someone who has a big part in my life. I hope you enjoy,” she murmurs before beginning to play, and for the next several minutes, I become lost in the cadence of Harlow’s throaty, sultry voice. The lyrics describe the start of autumn but then how the extras days of summer sneak in unexpectedly, which to me, sound like a metaphor for love. It’s mind-blowing, and I can’t help but be wowed by the young woman I feel so strongly for. My heart pounds with emotion and to my surprise, I’m actually swaying along with the music. Holy shit, this is magical.
But of course, the set ends too soon and before I realize it, Harlow stands up and takes a small bow. “Thank you everyone!” she says sweetly before slinging her guitar under her arm and sauntering off-stage to thunderous applause. While the next performer readies their instrument, Harlow makes her way over to my table.
“Hey you,” she purrs before a quick kiss on my mouth.
“You were amazing,” I whisper, pulling her in close for a longer kiss.Mine, I growl to myself.
Harlow blushes. “Thank you, and I definitely had fun. I haven’t sung like that in a long time.” Her brown eyes sparkle happily.
“I loved your first song especially.” I take her hand in mine and caress the soft skin of her wrist. “Your lyrics were captivating, baby, and straight from the heart too.”
“I write what moves me,” she whispers. “The lyrics are very timely too, I think.”
I cup Harlow’s cheek in my hand, staring deep into those chocolate brown eyes. “I know what you mean because the feeling is mutual, sweetheart.”
At that, the intimacy is so intense that I could swear we’re communing on another level. But then Harlow giggles. “You are too much, Sam White, but now, I need a coffee. Is it crazy that I’m imbibing caffeine at 7 p.m.?”
I shake my head.
“Hell no, join the crowd, honey.”
She laughs.
“Okay, can I get you something?”
I shake my head.
“No, baby, I’m good. Any more coffee and I’ll never sleep tonight.”
Harlow puts on a pouty face. “I wasn’t planning on either of us sleeping tonight,” she retorts sassily. With that, she trots off, and my eyes are glued to that round backside as she heads for the espresso counter.
Shit, what’s going on? Harlow’s song struck something deep within me. The words were powerful and her passionate delivery stirred my heart. Yet I know it’s wrong because what the hell? I’m the man of the house. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about a girl who’s nominally related to me.
Yet, I can’t help it and watch the lush brunette as she chats with a few new fans who are seated at the counter. Harlow’s laugh carries all the way to where I’m sitting, and she’s absolutely magnetic. The beautiful woman flips her long brown hair over her shoulder as she leans against the counter, all smiles and joyful ease. Clearly, these young people love her too because they’re hanging onto her every word.
But as I watch the interaction, my heart clenches because this is what’s supposed to happen. My stepdaughter should be among people her own age, enjoying that wild freedom that comes with youth, and not hanging out with an old fogey like me. But at the same time, I know that I don’t want to give her up, not now. Our relationship—as odd as it might seem to some—feels incredibly right, and even bigger than the two of us.
This is definitely something to discuss with my shrink, I think grimly. And yet the second my eyes land on Harlow again, all bitterness fades from my mind because she’s charismatic, appealing, and just so attractive that my heart softens.
How does she do that? I can’t help but wonder.How does she chase away gray clouds with her presence alone?But again, this is likely a matter for my therapist because the sweet girl’s already headed back to our table.
