"Well, he's not handling them. Where'd he go last night?"
The blonde winced.
Don't say date. Don't say date.
"To the city...for a double date with Dorian." Brook Lynn patted her hand. "I'm sorry. I only know because Beck called Jase late last night and said he wouldn't be coming home."
Her shoulders drooped, what remained of her hope dying a quick and brutal death.
A bell tinkled over the door, and she glanced over to see Scott Cameron coming into the restaurant. He gazed around, as if he were looking for someone specific, only to stop on her and smile coldly.
So not in the mood. Besides, did he never work?
Scott removed his baseball cap and approached their table. For the first time in years, she got a good, long look at him up close and personal and noticed he wasn't the athlete he used to be. He had a slight beer gut and a-- What was that called? Muffin top? Without the hat, there was no hiding his receding hairline.
"Um, hi, Scott," Brook Lynn said. "Is there something we can help you with?"
"You can tell me why you're hanging out with the wicked witch of the Southwest."
Jessie Kay bristled. "You're right. She's a witch. But she's our witch, so you better back the hell off before I decide to get creative with my butter knife."
Harlow gaped at the girl. She's...defending me?
"Besides," Kenna said, nose in the air. "Our girl is taken. Your juvenile efforts to gain her attention won't work."
"Taken? By that Beck guy? Please. Everyone knows he'll stick it to anything breathing. Isn't that right, Jessie Kay?" Scott laughed as both Jessie Kay and Harlow hissed at him. "Besides, you ladies gotta stop expecting a man to sweep you off your feet. You're the ones who are supposed to handle the broom."
Oh, no, he didn't. "How about I shove a broom right up your--" A hand slapped over Harlow's mouth.
"Family establishment," Brook Lynn whispered at her, only then removing her hand.
Scott opened his mouth to say more, thought better of it and stalked off, snagging a table at the other side of the room. Their waitress raced over to pat his arm while casting Harlow a hate-filled scowl. Okay. It was safe to say her next order would contain spit, at the very least.
"Thank you," Harlow said to Jessie Kay.
"Well, you are a witch. I meant that with every fiber of my being."
Harlow clutched her chest. "The warm tingles are overwhelming. Tell me. Is this love? This feels like love."
Brook Lynn snorted.
"Our waitress can't be more than twenty," Harlow said. "I didn't go to school with her, wasn't ever rude to her, so why does she loathe me?"
"Haven't you heard? She and Scott are dating." Kenna swiped up the last roll in the basket. "Bet he's ranted and raved about you. My guess is she called him the moment you arrived and that's how he knew to come here."
Can I never catch a break?
"Forget about her," Daphne said. "I want to know what you're going to do about Beck."
There was no need to think about it any longer. "Nothing," she replied, then sighed as depression settled heavily on her shoulders. "He made his choice, and it wasn't me."
"He's just confused," Brook Lynn said.
"He's fighting his feelings for you," Kenna added.
Hadn't girls been telling themselves those kinds of lies since the beginning of time?
"Plus, have you really put much effort into winning him?" Jessie Kay asked. "I haven't seen you go to the house to flash him. Not once. And when I secretly checked his text messages a few nights ago, I didn't see one dirty picture of you. From other girls? Yes. Like, a lot of other girls. Seriously, I had no idea so many in this town were of the Fatal Attraction variety."
"I want names," Harlow growled.
Jessie Kay smirked at her. "I think smoke is actually curling from your nostrils."
Kenna slapped her friend's arm. "You shouldn't tease her about the dirty pictures."
"Ow." Jessie Kay frowned at the redhead. "I wasn't teasing."
"Well, you're tormenting her."
"Am not!" Jessie Kay's frown deepened. "I'm just trying to light a fire under her, get her spurred into action. Unlike you two, who want to throw her a pity party."
Had she put much effort in? Harlow wondered. He'd stayed away from her, sure, but she'd stayed away from him, as well. He hadn't called or texted her, but she hadn't called or texted him, either.
The thought instantly lightened her mood, and though she was trembling, she withdrew her phone. "All right, girls. I've never gone X-rated before. Help me?"
Jessie Kay rubbed her hands together. "Darlin', you came to the right place."
Brook Lynn, Kenna and Daphne groaned.
"One day, when you look back over your life, you'll realize this is where things started to go horribly wrong," Brook Lynn said.
"Don't listen to the haters." After a bit of table wrestling, Jessie Kay managed to stuff a napkin in her sister's mouth. "These gals were tutored by me, and look at them now. All three of them are in healthy relationships."
"Despite your tutelage," Kenna muttered.
"Tell them, Daph," Jessie Kay said.
"She has helped me nail down Brad Lintz," Daph admitted with a sigh.
A Glass Pass survivor, as well as the owner of Lintz Automotive, and the sheriff's son. Good. He deserved a happy ending.
"For this to work," Jessie Kay said, "we've got to call that Dorian guy, like, right now. He's a key ingredient to my--I mean your--success. I'm only ever always thinking of you. So do it. Call him and tell him to come to Two Farms."
"But--"
"Aw, you're shy. That's so cute. No worries, I'll do it for you." Jessie Kay swiped Harlow's phone, scrolled through her contacts and found the right number. She placed the device at her ear, waited. "Dude! Even your voice is pure sex. But listen. I'm Jessie Kay, Harlow's best friend. You and I made eye-babies the other day. Yep....Yep...Mmm, keep talking. I mean, no, no, stop talking and listen. We need you to come to Strawberry Valley right now. Two Farms. It's a matter of life and death. PS, don't tell Beck." She hung up, pulled at the collar of her shirt. "That boy is dangerous."
"And we need him...why?" Brook Lynn demanded.
"You'll see. Now. The next part is a bit tricky. We're all gonna have to be a little tipsy." She signaled their waitress. When the pretty brunette dragged her feet to their table, she said, "Bring us that big bottle of Macallan locked behind the bar."
The girl's eyes grew big and round. "But that's...almost a thousand dollars." She whispered the last, as though scandalized.
Harlow nearly had a heart attack. "We do not want that bottle. Not now, not ever."
Jessie Kay hiked her thumb at Kenna. "We do, and it goes on her fiance's tab. He can afford it."
"He can," Kenna agreed.
"And don't you dare open the bottle and bring it to us in glasses," Jessie Kay added. "You'll just pour it into another container before it ever reaches us and fill our glasses with the cheap stuff. I used to work here. I invented that trick. We want the bottle unopened, and no glasses. We're doing this old-school."
"What?" Daphne said. "With that fancy bottle? Why?"
Jessie Kay got real serious real fast. "We're going to have ourselves a good old-fashioned homance and share the bottle. It'll bond us. Whiskey sisters for life."
To Harlow, it sounded like a little slice of heaven. Who cared about the money? If Kenna's fiance refused to pay, Harlow had organs she could sell on the black market. Sisters? Yes, please. "I'm in!"
*
BECK REALIZED HE'D come full circle. Once again he was seated at the window in his bedroom, peering out at Harlow's RV. He'd gone to see her about an hour ago, pulled by an invisible chain he couldn't cut, but she hadn't answered the door. He'd let himself in like the concerned neighbor he was and discovered she wasn't ignoring him; she just wasn't at home.
It was the middle of the day, which was intolerable. She had work to do, damn it. Where was she, a
nd who was she with?
He'd stayed away from her far too long, and it had affected him physically. As he'd already realized, she'd become his new normal, which meant he couldn't sleep without her in his arms. He couldn't eat, his stomach tied in too many knots. Not even Brook Lynn's pie had tempted him.
He'd handled things poorly. Harlow was his friend, and he never should have run out on her after her big confession. But he'd been so surprised...so turned on. So possessive, wanting to be the first and only man to have her. He'd almost signed on for forever, picked her up and carried her to his bed.
A bed he'd shared with too many women to count.
He'd known from the beginning she deserved far better than he had to offer, but that thought had cinched it. She was untouched, pure...and he was tainted.
Despite the red flashing through his vision, he knew he had to find her another guy faster than originally planned. Like, tomorrow. Committed women were invisible to him, he reminded himself. His attraction to Harlow would finally fade. He needed it to fade. He couldn't go on like this.
So. It was time to take things to the next level. No more dates for Harlow. Instead, he would set up a party and invite every bachelor he knew, and she would then speed-date each and every one; at the end of the night, she would pick her favorite.
He would invite everyone but Dorian.
Yesterday Beck had set up a double date for the two of them, thinking his friend needed to be consoled by another woman. Consoled, not distracted so that he'd stay away from Harlow. But Beck had been a major asshole all night and scared both women away.
His phone buzzed, and he swiped up the device, grateful for the distraction of the text--until he found a picture of Harlow attached. As the image burned past his retinas and into his brain, he jumped to his feet. His sweet little hag was sitting in Dorian's lap, and the rat bastard was smiling.
The caption underneath read, Lok Beck! Loooook what I fond! A nice slice of jucy man meet!!!!!!!!
The typos were adorable, and he hated himself for thinking so. This was not a humorous situation. Harlow was ruining her future, settling for momentary pleasure with a guy who wasn't right for her.
R U drunk? he typed.
Her: Only a 9.99. Or maybe 9.99.
Him: Where R U?
As he waited for her reply, he studied the picture in more depth, not allowing himself to focus on Dorian or Harlow, only on the things around them. A wall with wooden slats. A picture of two crumbling white farmhouses tilted on its side. He'd seen that picture before... Where, where...
Two Farms.
His phone buzzed again.
There's a party in my pants. Want 2 come? <-- See what I did there???????
An animal growl rose from deep in his chest. If Dorian touched Harlow while she was in this aroused, drunken state, his hands would end up in Beck's trophy case.
He made his way to West's bedroom, the door already open. "I need you to come with me to Two Farms."
"Why?" West glanced up from the motherboard he was building from scratch. He often worked from home and thankfully today was one of those days.
"Harlow's drunk, and Dorian's taking advantage of her."
Rather than appearing enraged on Harlow's behalf, West looked to be fighting a grin. "He's never been the type to take advantage of a drunk woman. If she's had more than a single glass of something, he'll back off."
Beck whipped out his phone and showed his friend the picture. "Does this look like he's backing off?"
"Fine." West glanced at the calendar app displayed on his phone, resting beside the computer parts. "I can spare half an hour. Just give me a minute to dress." He stood, and for the first time Beck noticed the guy wore only a pair of boxer briefs.
Minute after minute passed, his friend searching for the perfect pair of jeans. Beck snapped, "I'd like to leave sometime this year."
"Which is why I'm hurrying." West held up two shirts, one all black, the other black with the words Boyfriend Material scripted over the center. "What am I in the mood to wear?" he wondered aloud.
"Dude. I'm seriously about to take away your man card."
"That's fine. I've got two."
Beck grabbed the shirt with text, tossed it on the floor and wiped his shoes on it. "This one's dirty. Wear the one in your hand."
"Well, well. Someone's certainly cranky today."
Someone had an ass-kicking to deliver.
A buzz sounded from West's desk. Beck walked over and swiped up his friend's phone, just in case Dorian had decided to circumvent Beck. Maybe ask for a condom. When he saw a message from Jessie Kay, he tossed the phone at West.
"You might want to see this."
West peered down at the screen, features tightening with anger as he studied the pictures the girl had sent. One of her and Daniel Porter, and one of her and Dorian Oliver. The text read, Need an honest unbiased opinion. Which 1 should I choose????
"Let's go." West was already striding toward the door.
Now that was more like it.
As they settled in Beck's car, another text from Harlow came in. He almost couldn't bring himself to look. Almost.
GUSS WHATTTT? Dori--that's wat I cal him now--scarred Scott away 4 me. He's may new hero. I ow him. What should I giv him???? Do U kno if he liks cherries?
Beck put the pedal to the metal.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.
Harlow and her whiskey sisters had indeed drunk straight from the bottle, and after they'd finished the good stuff, they'd turned to the hard, cheap stuff. They'd talked and laughed too loud and almost gotten kicked out of Two Farms. Then, about an hour ago, Dorian arrived and Jessie Kay explained the life or death plan--make Beck wish he were dead--or you know, married.
Dorian had taken a page from Beck's playbook and given Mr. Calbert, the owner, a wad of cash to rent the restaurant for the rest of the day, and the other patrons were escorted out. Except for the superadorable Daniel Porter, whom Jessie Kay had texted and asked to join them.
"It's been five whole minutes," Brook Lynn said. "Time for another picture. Kenna! Camera!"
Ever obedient, Harlow posed on Dorian's lap yet again while Kenna snapped more pictures and Dorian told her all about his double date with Beck.
"I'm serious," Dorian said. "The guy had zero interest in his girl and talked about his 'little hag' all night."
"That's cool, I guess." If cool was the new word for awesome. She couldn't even bring herself to be offended by the nickname.
"Okay, y'all. I've got a brilliant idea about digital strip poker," Jessie Kay called, motioning to Harlow's phone. "Tell Beck all about it, so he can tell West."
Harlow started typing as Jessie Kay explained the rules.
I'm gona get nakid.
That should cover all the details right? Send.
"Now," Harlow said to Dorian. "Tell me more. About the date, about Beck, about everything." Was the room spinning?
Holding her up to prevent her from falling, Dorian said, "If you want him, he's yours, and even if he's loath to admit it--even to himself--he'll be the best damn boyfriend you've ever had. I remember the way he used to look at couples who were clearly in love. He wanted what they had, just couldn't admit it then, either. Stick it out, and he'll realize the truth. Growing up in the system can really mess you up. He just needs to heal."
Yeah, but how much time? Would she end up broken in the process?
Maybe, but wounds could be kissed better.
"You Strawberry Valley girls must be addictive," Dorian remarked, peering at Jessie Kay, who was now dancing around the room. "I've been warned away from the Dillon sisters."
"Jase is gaga over Brook Lynn, but who told you to stay away from Jessie Kay?"
The front door burst open before he could reply, and Beck and West came storming into Two Farms like avenging angels. Harlow's heart kicked into a frenzied beat. The plan had actually worked? Beck scanned the room and when his gaze landed on her, he closed in
.
Meanwhile, West marched over to Jessie Kay.
"Showtime." Dorian helped Harlow stand.
The swiftness of the action caused her stomach to lurch. "Curses! I think I'm going to be sick."
Beck reached her a second later and gently extracted her from his friend. "Time to go. Now."
Sick could wait. The man of her dreams was here! She threw her arms around him and tried to climb him like a mountain.
He held on to her while lecturing Dorian. The words were lost to her, a strange buzz in her ears. Beck anchored her against him and petted her hair, and she must have passed out after a few minutes, held so comfortingly in his embrace, because the next thing she knew she was floating... No, she was being tossed here and there in the deep end of an ocean. Her stomach gave another lurch, and she moaned.
Floating again...a hard jostle.
"Don't worry, baby," Beck said. "I've got you."
She was on her knees in a cornfield, she realized. Beck held on to her hair as she leaned over and threw up every drop of liquid she'd consumed that day, and maybe five days prior. When she finished, darkness descended over her mind and she was floating again...cool clouds settling beneath her, a chilled wet cloth wiping over her brow, her mouth.
"Beck," she moaned.
"I told you. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."
With those words echoing in her mind, soothing her in a way nothing else could have, she drifted off to sleep.
*
GROANING, HARLOW HISSED at the sunlight streaming in through the window.
Was she sick?
Oh...crap. She was worse, she thought, memories from last night downloading straight into her brain. She was still alive.
"Here. Take these."
Beck's voice, but it was far too loud. Slowly she turned her head toward him. He stood at the edge of the bed. His bed. He held out two white pills and a glass of water.
Why was he being so nice to her? "Thanks," she muttered, swallowing the pills and a gulp of ice-cold water. Her stomach protested at first but soon settled down.
He set the glass on the nightstand and eased beside her. "We need to talk."
"I know. I'm sorry about yesterday and Dorian and--"
"Harlow," he said, stopping her with a finger pressed against her lips. "What are you apologizing for? I'm thinking about making whiskey a necessary part of your diet. Do you have any idea how handsy you get?"
The Hotter You Burn Page 20