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That’s my last thought before I drive up inside her again with a roar, pistoning again and again against her most sensitive spot until she cries out. “Come now!”
Harlow does without hesitation, shattering above me with a face full of desperate passion. She’s holding nothing back now. She’s giving me everything—and I suddenly feel the difference between every other time we’ve had sex and tonight, when we’re making love not only without physical barriers but without mental ones, too.
“I love you…” she cries out as her body shudders with completion.
“I love you, too!” I release and empty every bit of myself inside her, then bring her close to hear our heartbeats slow together with a sigh of satisfaction.
Tonight is the first night of the rest of our lives together. I have to believe that nothing can tear us apart now.
As heavenly as our wedding night was, the follow morning turned to hell. News of my marriage to Harlow spread like all gossip does—quickly and with bite. By the time we had breakfast with Maxon, Griff, their wives, and little Jamie, the press was already surrounding the parking lot. Getting to the car proved difficult. Sliding inside and driving away turned out to be nearly impossible. Their shouted questions were somewhere between salacious and insulting, about everything from my “busy” sex life apart from my wife to barely veiled sneers about our relationship while she was engaged to Simon.
As much as I’d love to go off on them, they’re doing their jobs and losing my shit does no good, so I stick to my canned response. “Harlow and I are newlyweds and we would appreciate some privacy so we can enjoy this time in our married lives.”
I hoped more than believed that would be the end of the incident.
“Mercedes Fleet says your wedding is a publicity stunt and a way to avoid your responsibility to her baby.”
Of course she said that. I would, too, if I was trying to exploit someone else for my own gain. I wish this woman would just stop. I’m guessing she got unexpectedly pregnant. Maybe she can’t afford this baby. Or maybe she got pregnant by a hookup who won’t acknowledge her. It’s possible she simply wants to put a famous man’s name on her child’s birth certificate. I don’t know. But she needs to be honest with the press—and herself.
“I’ve never met, much less been intimate with, Mercedes Fleet. That’s all.”
And that’s the last time I’m repeating myself, damn it.
As I’m finally able to duck in the car and slam the door, I glance at Harlow. She looks a little rattled.
“You okay?”
She gives me a nod that looks more confident than I think she feels. “Let’s get out of here.”
That’s going to be a feat since a handful of reporters seem intent on blocking the road so they can continue to shout questions at us. But after I start the engine and rev it a few times, they get the message and back away.
Finally, we’re making our way down the road. I know the press will be waiting for us at the security gate when we get home, but at least we’ll have privacy once we make it inside.
“This will die down,” I assure Harlow. “After the test results come back negative, Ms. Fleet will be exposed as a fraud. The press rarely apologizes or admits it was wrong to run with a story when they had no facts to support it. But they will go away and chase the next juicy tidbit as soon as they find it.”
“Have you lived with this since you went pro?”
“No. Usually, I get a few cameras in my face after a game or before a big event. But it’s never been this intense. That’s why I know all the attention will disappear as soon as there’s no more steak to feed these hounds.”
“But it’s your word against hers. I don’t know why they don’t wait until the facts are in.”
“Because that doesn’t sell papers or generate clicks.”
She sighs in frustration. “That sucks.”
It does. And it suddenly occurs to me that we’ve only talked about the paternity suit in practical terms since the day the accusation came to light. “Do you believe me, Harlow? Do you think I got her pregnant?”
“I thought you had when it first happened and that you simply didn’t want to tell me.”
“Like Simon. I get it.”
She nods. “Even my dad has that nasty habit. It’s like he gets off on knocking up girls half his age and…”
She’s revolted and angry. I met the man, so I at least have a glimmer of understanding. When her experience with men has been so negative, trust is thin and believing my claims of innocence can’t be easy. I’m trying to see this situation from her perspective. But she has to see it from mine, too. If she loves me, I need to know she trusts me, as well. No, she wouldn’t blame me for something that happened before we met. But she would blame me for lying to her about it now. If I wasn’t telling the truth and Harlow found out, everything I’ve spent weeks building with her would crumble in so many pieces I wonder if I could ever put it back together.
“I don’t understand the man.” I grimace. “But I completely get why you might have had difficulty believing I didn’t get that woman pregnant at first.”
“I was sure you had that day it came to light. And I was angry when I had no right to be. I’m sorry about that.”
