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“Yes, it is. Just like meeting you.” I lean in to kiss her. “But I’m glad I did.”
I can’t stop myself. Usually I’m not one for PDA because the press can take my first conversation with a woman and make it into the most dramatic breakup argument ever, but I don’t know how to not touch Harlow. I’m still embarrassingly revved up from thinking about her pregnant. But an air of sadness lingers around her. I can’t ignore it. I realize that’s what’s been snagging my attention over and over. She says things that are funny and light. Since we met, she’s been the life of my party. Definitely the lay of the century. But it all feels like I’m barely scratching her surface. What pain is she covering up?
I palm the back of her neck and bend to kiss her. It’s gentle and reassuring. Consoling. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed a lover this way. I know that if I try to dig deeper into whatever she’s hiding now, she’ll just retreat behind her walls, but it’s harder for her to evade me when our lips are pressed together.
Harlow clings sweetly, not rejecting my kiss or the comfort I give her. Moments later, she melts into me with a soft moan. I bring her closer.
Then several bright flashes of lights around us kill the moment. A small crowd of reporters and gawkers have gathered around us, some frantically texting pictures they’ve just taken of Harlow and me.
“Mr. Weston, how’s retirement?” some random dude shouts nearby as I tuck her behind me.
“Are the rumors about you starting a second career in the broadcasting booth true?” asks a forty-something woman who looks like a shark seeking a scoop.
“How do you feel about being hailed as a hometown hero made good?” queries a seasoned sports reporter from theHonolulu Star-Advertiserwhose name has escaped me.
“I gave statements to the press when I retired, folks. I’m just enjoying an evening out now that I’m back in Hawaii and I’d appreciate some privacy.”
“Who’s your date?” the woman demands to know as if I didn’t just ask politely for them to shut the hell up. “Is it serious? Will the hearts of female Noah Weston fans be broken by an engagement announcement soon?”
I grit my teeth and smile, but when they start trying to snap pictures of Harlow, I’m genuinely annoyed. I turn to ask if she’s all right and realize that, unlike most of my dates over the last twelve years, she’s not seeking camera time. No, she’s hiding her head and desperately trying to avoid it.
I search around the parking lot for any sign of the valet, but I see nothing except the starry Hawaiian evening and these shitheads ruining it. I wrap my arm around Harlow protectively. I’m sure the press will make all kinds of assumptions about that, but whatever. Right now, distress pours off Harlow as she buries her head in my arm.
“What’s your name, miss?” asks the sports reporter. “How long have you been dating? Are you the reason Weston retired?”
“No comment.” Her mutter is muffled by my sleeve and her refusal to show her face.
“You heard the lady. She has nothing to say. Neither do I. Have a good evening.”
Finally, I see the lights of my rental approach. I’m looking forward to having my own car shipped over, but that will take a few weeks. This SUV will do until then, and I hustle halfway across the lot to meet it, Harlow in tow. Finally, the valet catches on to our dilemma and stops as we approach in the middle of the lot. He hops out and dashes around the car to open the door for her, but I’ve already beaten him to the punch. As soon as Harlow is settled inside, I shove a bill in his hand, then burn rubber out of the lot, leaving the small gaggle of gawkers behind us.
“You okay?” I cup her knee and will her to look over at me.
Instead, she nods, head bowed. “Fine. Can you just get me home?”
I notice that she considers my place her home. I’m not bothered. “On our way.”
“Thanks.” She looks up and sees we’ve left the restaurant behind, then exhales in relief. “How do you put up with that?”
“Reporters and nosy people?” I shrug and turn left. “Comes with the territory. In truth, I’m a little surprised to find them here. I’ll bet someone in the restaurant tipped them off. Sorry if it upset you. I didn’t expect this crap to last into retirement, especially after I moved closer to my old stomping ground. After all, I won’t be dazzling fans anymore by breaking new touchdown or passing-yards records. Now I’m just a regular guy.”
She scoffs. “I don’t know that you’ll ever be just a regular guy. I get that you want to move on with your life. I don’t know if they ever will. Blood-sucking assholes.”
I study her a bit closer as I stop at a red light. “You seemed kind of freaked by their intrusion. Have you had trouble with people barging into your personal life or something?”
Right on cue, here comes her plastic smile. “I’m not as important as you, fancy pants. Sure, I like attention as much as the next girl, but not when a bunch of vultures are trying to give it to me. Do you think they’re so fascinated by everyone else’s exploits because they’ve done nothing noteworthy in their own lives? What drives sad little people to care more about someone else’s achievements than their own?”
That was a skillful deflection, and if I wasn’t already on to Harlow, I probably would have fallen for that juicy question. “I don’t know and I don’t care. I’d rather know why they upset you.”
She blinks at me as if I’m crazy. “Me? If I’m upset, it’s for you. They totally disregarded your privacy.”
“It’s what reporters do.” I grimace. “Are you sure you’re not upset? Because once they started asking you questions, you turned an interesting shade of pale and stuck your nose in my armpit as if you wanted to know whether my deodorant was still working.”
Since direct questioning and concern haven’t yet worked, I’m trying sarcasm. She seems to speak that language. My question makes her smile.
“Is it?” She wags her brows. “Maybe you should drop your shirt now and let me get up close and personal with you. You know, as a public service. In case we run into anyone else. You don’t want to reek.”
“If you start something in this car, woman, we may be finishing it here, too. And I’m too damn tall and big for backseat action.”
