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“Fine. Just keep them off my back.”
“Let me clarify: a nice sit-down dinner. With Keeley and Britta.” The oldest brother’s expression softens. “They’re worried about you, too.”
Regret passes over Harlow’s face, and I wonder what the hell has been going on in her life. “I didn’t even consider that. I’m sorry. Tell them both I’ll call soon. Maybe we’ll do lunch one day this week if they’re free.”
“Thanks.” Griff leans in to kiss his sister’s cheek. “It would mean a lot to Britta.”
Maxon follows suit. “Same with Keeley. Her mom and Phil went back to Phoenix. She’s been a little weepy since. Oh, and I’m supposed to give you this.” He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a CD. “My wife says this is a warm-up. She’ll have more for you soon.”
Harlow glances at the disc, then gives Maxon a rueful smile. “You’ve got a keeper. Thanks. Give both girls my love. And ruffle Jamie’s hair for me.”
“Will do.”
She glances at me before turning back to her brothers. “Did…anyone else leave the island?”
Their grim faces say they understand her question. I’m totally lost.
“About an hour after you took off,” Griff assures.
That makes her sigh with relief. Clearly, she wants to avoid someone. I wonder who that might be and what’s going on. I want to ask but I’m pretty sure my words would come out like gibberish.
I curse a blue streak in my head, then realize the brothers are focused on me. We don’t say a word, but there’s a whole lot of Alpha male testosterone floating through the air. They want me to know they both think the job I’ve supposedly hired Harlow to do is bullshit and they don’t appreciate me banging their sister. I want them to know that I’ll treat her well as long as we’re together, but otherwise, they can butt out.
After our silent conversation, they give me curt nods, then head out the front door.
As soon as it snicks shut, Harlow turns to me, hands on my shoulders. “Breathe. Everything is fine. Thanks for not losing your cool with my brothers. They mean well. And believe it or not, that actually went smoothly. They usually hate any guy I see.”
I press my lips together, swallow, then drag in a deep breath. My nerves evaporate. And suddenly, the words between my brain and my lips begin to flow. “That was good?”
My enunciation isn’t perfect, but I get the point across.
“Totally. Don’t worry about them. Coffee?”
“I’ll make it. What happened five days ago?”
Harlow doesn’t meet my gaze. “Stupid family drama. I walked away from it. Everyone is worried about me because I might have lost my shit before I hustled out more abruptly than I should have. A lot of it has to do with my parents. They’re separated and it’s ugly and…” She grimaces as if the conversation is painful. “Can we talk about something else?”
She’s dodging me, and I don’t love it. But I understand. We’ve known each other fifteen hours. It feels longer, or like I know her way more than I actually do. Or maybe I’m simply more invested than I should be. Either way, she’s put up a verbalkeep outsign, and I have to respect that I have no place in her family issues. She’s helping me with my speech, and I’m giving her a place to stay. We’re going to share orgasms. That should be it. But there’s no reason we can’t be friends, too, right? Her brothers’ behavior gave me the impression that whatever is going on with her is a big fucking deal. Like any friend, I want to be here for her if she needs help.
“Sorry to hear that. We can talk about whatever you want, but I’m willing to listen if you need to get something off your mind.”
“Oh, god. The last thing I want to do is talk. I’m going to grab a shower and do some research on how best to tackle your challenges so we can get started.” Then she gives me a second, lingering glance. “But you look mighty fine without a shirt. I’m tempted to chuck responsibility for a few hours and go back to bed. What do you say?”
I love Harlow’s suggestion, but I don’t like feeling as if she brushed me off. Still, I can’t force her to confide in me. “Why don’t you grab that shower while I make some coffee and call my attorney. I want to get your contract set up today so you can sign it. Then…we’ll see.”
“Sure thing, hunk. I’m excited. This is going to beat the hell out of a traditional eight-to-five job. And if last night is any indication, the sex will be an awesome perk.” She winks at me, then swishes toward the stairs.
I watch her, both aroused and vaguely irked that she seems to like our sexual chemistry—and my penis—more than she actually likes me.
With a frown, I watch Harlow walk away, her sway happy-go-lucky. Her brothers’ visit suggests she should be anything but. Seemingly, she’s using sex to avoid personal interaction and wants orgasms more than the guy giving them to her. Since she’s not a man-trophy collector, it’s unexpected. The woman is a mystery. She’s intriguing. I’m usually a brute-force kind of guy…but I already know that solving her is going to take finesse. But something is making her tick, and I want to know what.
Two can play games, and I didn’t survive league and team politics by not being aware of the people around me. Across the table at the seaside steakhouse, Harlow sparkles as she smiles like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She flirts like a pro as the wind ruffles the loose tendrils of her dark hair around her face. She’s stuffed the rest in an artfully mussed bun and tossed on a maxi dress and sandals, yet somehow manages to look both casual and put together.
“So there we are, ten sorority girls and a dead hamster named T-Rex, who had lived a grand life. We’re giving him one hell of a Viking-style funeral on a raft in the pool at, like, two in the morning. We saluted him. One of my sorority sister’s boyfriends had been a priest for Halloween, so he came over all dressed up to preside over T-Rex’s funeral. I delivered a eulogy we all tossed together on a napkin at the last minute. I held the little speech in one hand and a bottle of Wild Turkey in the other. We literally couldn’t stop laughing the whole time because it was so absurd. And we all needed the break from studying for finals.” She sips her wine. “So while the raft is on fire and we’re singing Sarah MacLachlan’s ‘I Will Remember You’ at the top of our lungs, the raft that was supposed to send this hamster to Valhalla turns into a floating bonfire. Actual heat flared off the sucker. The smell of melting plastic was awful. Yes, we were young and stupid. But the elderly woman who lived in the house behind us woke up and called the fire department. I kid you not, they rolled two trucks with ladders, thinking they had a serious blaze on their hands. When they arrived, they scolded us for being careless—which we totally were. But a few of them stayed behind to hang, and one of them asked out my roommate. They’re married now. I was one of her bridesmaids, as was Masey, the friend whose pet crossed the rainbow bridge that fateful night. The bride was originally from Texas, where they do a groom’s cake for the reception, so theirs was in the shape of a hamster. Hardly anyone got the inside joke, but it was hard to keep a straight face through some of the pictures.”
I laugh because I can imagine how ridiculous the fiery hamster funeral probably was. Of course, my frat brothers and I did stuff way worse than that. We were a bunch of jocks with something dangerously close to carte blanche from the university’s dean and board of directors, as long as we won games and kept the alumni money flowing. But this swapping of tales isn’t a competition. I’m not about comparing pasts, either. I just want to keep Harlow talking so I can learn more. I especially want to know what’s up with her.
“You’re lucky no one got arrested,” I point out.
