“Yeah, she’s right here...”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my lips.
Reeve frowned. “Look, I’ve got to go; I’ll call you later when I can pick you up, okay? I’m sorry, man.”
“I’ll do it,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Reeve covered the speaker of his phone with his hand. “You’ll do what?”
“I’ll pick him up,” I replied. “I’m assuming he wants to go home?”
Reeve stared at me for a beat before a smirk appeared on his face.
“I’ve got a better idea, Harry. Quinn here is as free as a bird.”
I stopped listening. My heart was racing at the thought of seeing him again... being alone with him.
“You wanna tell me what the hell all that was?” Reeve interrupted my thoughts; apparently having finished his phone call.
I looked at him and blushed. “I’m just helping you out,” I lied.
“Uh huh.” He smirked as he rose from his chair. “And my meeting is with the Queen.”
He slipped his suit jacket on and led me out of his office.
He looked over at me again.
“What?” I laughed.
“You’re grinning like a fool.” He chuckled.
I winked at him and headed for the elevator. “Say hi to the Queen for me, Reeve,” I called over my shoulder.
His laugh followed me all the way down the hall.
“I think you know you’ve found someone special when you meet them for the first time, and it feels like you’re just picking up where you left off. You kind of look at them and think ‘Where the hell did you come from? Where the hell have you been?’”
- Caitlyn Siehl
13. Harrison
Ah shit.
I glanced down at my boxer briefs and mess of a lounge room and cringed. I’d been counting on my best mate to be coming to pick me up – not a drop-dead gorgeous woman. I’d planned on throwing on some sweats and maybe chucking a few pizza boxes in the bin, but now...
Shit.
It was way too early in the game for Quinn to be seeing me as a messy slob.
I couldn’t move fast, but I was willing to push it to the limit right now.
I winced as I pushed up off the couch. My ribs were improving, but I still wasn’t completely spared from the jolt of pain that I was growing accustomed to.
I needed to get over this shit and get my life back on track. I needed to clean the hell up, get home, get strong and get back to work.
And get the girl.
I glanced down at my boxers again.
Shit.
Pants.
First things first... I need pants.
***
I stole a glance at her again. It was surreal... like a dream come to life.
She was right next to me, driving me home, all alone.
We were all alone.
She shook her long brown hair out and a raspberry scent wafted around my face. I inhaled deeply.
God, she smells good.
“This is kind of like stranger danger, you know?” she stated to fill the silence, peeking a glance at me out of the corner of her eye.
“What do you mean?” I asked curiously, unsure where she was heading with this.
“You know.” She waved her hand at me. “I don’t know you. You don’t know me. You’re not supposed to get in a car with strangers; didn’t your momma ever teach you that?”
I chuckled. So apparently Quinn rambled when she was nervous.
I decided to humor her. “Okay then. Let’s remedy the situation.”
She nodded and grinned.
“My name’s Harrison Hunt, I’m a lawyer and I own a nightclub with my brothers.”
She sniggered. “You sound like you’re in an AA meeting.”
I laughed deeply, causing my ribs to ache.
“I like to run, box and read. I’ve got two brothers and I’ve been told I’m the best looking of the three of us,” I carried on.
She rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Alright... your turn,” I prompted.
She raised an eyebrow at me in question, like this little game didn’t include her.
“Hey now, fair’s fair. I’m worried about stranger danger too,” I joked.
She grinned. “Okay... I’m Quinn Pierce. I grew up in the country and I’m the Chief Technology Officer at Rush Communications. I like to run and read too... and shop. I’ve got one brother.”
“I’m thirty,” I told her.
“I’m nearly twenty-nine.”
“No kids,” I added.
“Ditto,” she replied.
“Single.” I smirked, stating the obvious.
I heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded a lot like ‘It’s complicated’ before she grinned and replied. “Me too.”
“Ahhh...” I was struggling to think of more to tell her about myself. “I like... nacho chips...”
She laughed. “I don’t love anything as much as I love chocolate.”
“Is that a challenge?” I asked without thinking.
She stilled momentarily before recovering and smiling. She looked at me briefly before shrugging. “Who knows, Harrison Hunt who likes nacho chips... who knows...” she replied quietly.
Challenge accepted.
14. Quinn
I took his key from him and twisted it in the lock. The air inside the house smelled stale.
I looked around. “Home sweet home, huh?”
I was pleasantly surprised by his house. It wasn’t small, but it also wasn’t huge or flashy like I’d imagined. I thought he would have chosen something sleek, professional, modern and masculine. But the reality was quite different. It was modest, and the brick held warmth and character – it was cozy.
He attempted a shrug, but the look on his face told me it still hurt his ribs more than he was willing to admit.
“This is it,” he stated.
“I like it.” I beamed at him.
“You do?” He sounded surprised.
“What is that meant to mean?” I demanded in mock outrage.
I stepped inside the entryway and sat his bag down.
He chuckled. “I just took you for a more... ah... ‘refined taste’ kind of girl.”
“You think I’m a snob?” I sat my hands on my hips dramatically.
He shook his head. “Not a snob.”
“Posh?” I asked.
“Nah.” He shook his head again.
“Oh god.” I groaned, dropping my hands. “You don’t think I’m high maintenance, do you?”
He smirked and held up his thumb and forefinger, only an inch apart. “Maybe just a little bit.”
“Well, I thought you might be a show pony,” I shot back. “I was expecting some big sleek mansion, floor-to-ceiling glass, designer chandeliers in the entry way...” I gestured to the ceiling.
He chuckled and shook his head. “No pony tricks here. Just simple and comfortable, that’s how I like it.” He pointed toward the living room in front of him, and I looked behind me for the first time. He had large, solid pieces of furniture that had a rustic feel to them. His brown leather couches looked like you could sink into them and be content for hours. The space led through to the dining room, and I could see a peek of the kitchen beyond that.
“There’s another living area out back and the bedrooms are upstairs,” he told me as I strolled around the room, looking at the trinkets and photos he had scattered on shelves and the mantel.
“You can tell a lot about a man by the way his house looks, you know,” I told him without looking back.
He was watching me; I could feel his eyes boring holes into my back.
“And what does this room say about me?” he asked curiously.
I picked up a heavy brass dog and set it back down again next to one of the many live plants he had. I took a few more steps and smiled at a framed picture of Harrison and Reeve in their graduation gowns and hats.
�
��Where do I start...”
The couches...
“I think you like to look good, but not to the point where you’ll sacrifice comfort.” I looked back over my shoulder at him and watched him watching me.
The photos...
“You value the people you have in your life.”
The art work...
“You’re vibrant, but you don’t always like to be the center of attention.”
I sneaked another peek at him as I continued to stroll around the room.
The plants...
“You can be gentle and nurturing.”
I ran my hand over the rough finish of the shelving as I turned back towards him.
The rustic wood.
I smirked at him. “But I think sometimes you like it a little rough.”
His expression had remained serious the entire time, right up until my last comment. He barked out a laugh and shook his head.
“I’m wrong?” I asked innocently, batting my lashes.
“Nope,” he confessed. “I’d say you hit the nail on the head.”
***
I’d made Harrison park up on the couch while I went and got him a glass of water. He’d insisted he was fine, but I was feeling a bit restless now that we were here alone. I wasn’t ready to leave, but I wasn’t necessarily willing to stay either.
I flicked off the water and froze at the words I heard floating down the hallway behind me.
Did I just hear...
“Fuck off.” It came again from the hallway off the kitchen.
“Harrison?” I called out cautiously.
“Fuck off,” came the squawky voice again.
Jesus, please don’t have a woman waiting here.
“Harrison?” I called again, louder this time. I could hear that he had turned on the T.V – he probably couldn’t hear me.
I walked cautiously towards the door and peered around the doorframe and down the hallway.
“Hello?”
Silence. There was nobody there.
“Harrison!” I called towards the living room. I turned to walk back into the kitchen when I heard it again.
“Fuck off.”
I grabbed a frying pan from the holder and held it up in the air. I took two slow steps into the hallway.
“Who’s there?” I called.
Silence.
What is going on in this house?
“What the hell are you doing?”
I leaped about three feet in the air.
Clutching my chest, I looked behind me. Harrison was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching me with amusement.
“Christ,” I hissed at him. “I heard something.”
He gave me a look that let me know he thought I was crazy.
“You heard something, did you?”
“Someone,” I insisted. “They told me to fuck off.”
His face broke out into a huge grin. “Ahh. I see.”
He rummaged around in a box on the counter top. “Does Binky want a cracker?” he called.
Does who want a what now?
A flurry of noise came at me from behind my head, and I threw myself to the ground.
“What the fuck!” I shrieked as I frantically looked around and eventually back up at him. Harrison hadn’t moved an inch. The only difference was the bird sitting on his shoulder.
“Well fuck me dead,” I stated as I slowly got back to my feet.
“Rawwwk. Fuck me dead,” the bird repeated.
“Well that’s a new one,” Harrison mused as he scratched the bird’s head.
“You’ve got a parrot,” I stated dumbly.
He nodded. “He’s actually a parakeet.”
“Of course he is.” I agreed, even though I didn’t have the slightest clue what the difference was.
“And he’s not mine. He’s my brother Mitchell’s. He may as well be mine though, he’s been here long enough.”
I eyed the bird warily as I brushed off my jeans.
“He won’t bite,” he reassured me. I could see he was holding back a laugh.
“I’m not convinced.” Narrowing my eyes, I stepped towards him. “He did just tell me to fuck off, you know,” I replied with a touch of humor.
“He’s kind of an asshole.”
I reached out slowly for the bird and stroked his back gently.
“Who’s a pretty boy?” he squawked.
“Oh, and modest too?” I joked.
I had to admit, once the surprise was over, the bird was actually pretty cool.
“Does he just hang out in the house all the time?”
“I’ve got his cage out back. My neighbor has been taking care of him. They must have brought him inside when I let them know I’d be coming home,” he explained. “He drives me crazy, but I actually missed him. It’ll be weird around here when Mitch gets back.”
I stared at him in wonder, bird on his shoulder. He looked like a hot, modern day pirate.
I wouldn’t mind walking his plank.
“I should go,” I said quickly, suddenly aware that I was standing in the kitchen of a man I didn’t really know but was insanely attracted to.
“Wait. Just let me put him in his cage.” He walked towards the door. “Wait, okay?” he told me carefully, as though he thought I might bolt.
I nodded.
I watched as he moved cautiously towards the door. I could see how much better he’d got in the last three weeks – his arm was still in a cast, but I was willing to bet it’d be due to come off any day now, and his ribs were obviously still sore, but other than that, he looked in pretty good shape. From what I could see, his bruises were faded and gone.
He emerged back inside, and I held back a sigh at the sight of him.
“He wasn’t happy.” He chuckled. “He called me a prick.”
I spat out a very unladylike laugh. “And I wonder who taught him that?”
He flashed me a cheeky grin that had my insides melting.
God, he is just so good looking.
“I should go,” I said again.
He ignored me. “You never told me, you know... what you were doing in my hospital room.”
I shrugged. “I was reading to you.”
“Why?” he pressed.
“I have no idea,” I answered him honestly. “I can’t explain what made me come and visit you in the first place, or what kept me coming back.”
He moved closer to me, his eyes fixed on mine.
“What’s going on here, Quinn?” He moved even closer, stopping only a few inches from me.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, looking down at my feet.
His hand rose to my chin, lifting it up with one finger so I was looking into his eyes.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never thought about a woman as much as I’ve thought about you.”
My heart raced at his words. I’d convinced myself it was all one sided on my part.
“You feel it too?”
“Fuck yes, I feel it too,” he growled.
He opened his palm and cupped the side of my face, and I instinctively leaned into his touch; I’d been craving it for so long.
“Quinn,” he breathed.
My eyes shut, and I soaked up the magic feeling of his skin on mine.
I knew he was going to kiss me – and I wanted it, god did I want it. But I knew it wasn’t right. Not until he’d talked to his brother. His lips moved so close I could feel his warm breath fanning my face.
“I don’t think you should kiss me,” I whispered.
“I should definitely kiss you,” he murmured back.
He was so close now it would be nothing, just the tiniest of movements to make our lips meet.
He smelled so good, I nearly caved.
We can’t.
I released the breath I was holding and pulled away slightly.
He huffed out a breath of his own and leaned forward, resting his head on my shoulder.
“I know,” he grumbled. “I need to
talk to him first.”
I nodded. “You do. I’m sorry.”
“I’d say don’t be.” He straightened up and looked at me. “But honest truth?”
“Honest truth,” I confirmed.
“It drives me fucking crazy. Knowing he’s touched you, kissed you, been inside you.” He flinched as he spoke the last words. “It makes me crazy.”
His words made me feel guilty and elated at the same time.
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
When did my life become such a mess?
It felt like, no matter what I did now, I would be hurting someone. I was always saying sorry to somebody.
This is all my fault...
15. Harrison
I picked up the phone. This was going to be a shit conversation and I knew it.
Straight to voicemail. Straight to voicemail...
He picked up after the second ring.
Dammit.
“Hey, did you get home all good?”
More than all good.
“Yeah, I’m home now.”
“Good... so... what’s up?”
I leaned back against my couch and sighed. “Reeve double booked, so Quinn did him a favor and brought me home.”
The silence stretched.
“Right,” he finally said. “Is she there with you now?”
“Nah. She left a while back.”
Silence again.
“Can we meet up and talk?” I eventually asked him.
He huffed out a breath. “Just say it now.”
“I’d rather do it in person.”
“Well I’d rather never do it,” he shot back.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is, man.”
“Me?” His voice rose. “You’re trying to tell me that you want to screw my ex, and I’m the one who’s making it hard?”
I felt my temper flare.
“I don’t know what I’ve got going on with her man, but it sure as hell isn’t just me wanting a fuck.” I took a deep breath; I needed to keep my cool. “I just wanted to talk to you about it before anything happened between us.”
“Fuck you, Harrison.”
Shit.
“Colt, I just want to—”
It was too late. He’d hung up.
“Fuck,” I muttered. That had gone worse than I’d thought it would. I slammed the phone down on the couch.
I wasn’t advised to drive for at least another few days, but fuck it, I’d tried to give him the heads up and he wasn’t going to listen to me over the phone.
Love like Yours Series Box Set: Books 1 - 4 Page 51