by Marie Carnay
They hadn’t worn condoms. Hadn’t even asked.
As Dixon pulled away, Foster reached over her body, turning her over before spreading her legs. “I hope you aren’t tired, Harlow. Because that’s just the beginning. I want you every way I can imagine. His fingers slipped between her swollen folds, one easing inside. “I’ve had you here.”
His hand withdrew and Harlow felt his fingers, wet with their cum, against her lips. “But I still want here.” She opened her mouth to lick his fingers, but he pulled away, diving back down between her legs, but going further to circle the puckered ring of her ass. “And here.”
Harlow squirmed as he toyed with her, so close to another orgasm, yet still so far. “We’re going to claim every inch of you, Harlow. You won’t be able to escape the memory of us. No matter where you go, what you do, you’ll think of us.”
Her mouth hung open, a response on her lips, when Foster pushed her legs apart and lapped at her clit. Harlow moaned instead.
Chapter 22
DIXON
Waking up next to Harlow for the last time would have crushed him if he’d slept. All Dixon could do that night was pace in front of the living room windows, convinced she’d picked Foster over him.
Why else would she have enrolled Kendra in Crane Matchmaking? Why else would she have gone to Foster first when they were both mad and hurting? If she loved him, it would have been Dixon’s hair that her fingers ran through, his arm that she held onto, his body that she tugged inside.
Instead, it was Foster. It had always been Foster.
He thought back. How she’d warmed up to Foster from the beginning. How she’d kissed him first. Let him woo her. Dixon had always been an afterthought. A runner-up.
Not any longer.
He turned from the window and stalked over to his bag. He’d present her the contract, tell her to take it or leave it, and walk away. He’d either get Crane Matchmaking or not. She could have Foster and all the baggage that came along with him.
As he crouched at the edge of the couch, digging through his bag, the bedroom door opened. A sleepy Harlow padded into the living room, Foster’s button-down covering her body. Dixon snorted. He’d been a fool.
He stood up as she ran a hand through her tousled hair.
“Here.” He held the papers out.
She smacked her lips. “What is that?”
“A contract. You need to read it.”
Harlow squinted up at him, mascara smudged into raccoon rings beneath her eyes. So fucking beautiful.
Dixon steeled himself and shoved the papers closer. “Take them.”
“All right, all right. But I need some coffee first.” Harlow took the contract and headed into the kitchen. Dixon didn’t move.
He waited while she fumbled around with the grounds and the filter, filled the carafe, and hit the button. He didn’t even sigh or roll his eyes while she leaned her ass against the counter and stared at the coffee pot. He’d miss her so damn much.
At last, she poured herself a cup and picked up the contract, footsteps soft on the wood as she eased around him to sit down on the couch. She sipped the coffee and held up the contract, eyes narrowing as she scanned the front page.
The coffee cup wobbled.
“What is this?”
“A contract to sell Crane Matchmaking.”
The pages lowered to her lap. “I thought you wanted to be partners.”
He stood a bit taller. “You thought wrong.”
Harlow set the mug on the table in front of her, sloshing the steaming coffee over the rim. “What is going on? First you show up pissed off last night, fighting outside with Foster. Now you’re shoving this ridiculous contract in my face. I thought…” The contract rusted as Harlow shifted on the couch. “Didn’t last night mean anything to you?”
He shrugged on his jacket. “This has gone on long enough. I told you in the beginning, I don’t do relationships. You’ve made it perfectly obvious that you don’t want one with me. Sign the contract or not. You have twenty-four hours.”
“This isn’t you. This isn’t the Dixon that I know. The man I know would never blindfold me, touch me like he worshipped me all night long, and let me fall in love with him, just to do this the next day.”
Dixon tugged at his cuffs. She was even more cunning than he’d given her credit for. Using the way he felt about her just to negotiate a better deal. It was too much. He refused to look her in the eye. He didn’t want to see the lies. “The offer is firm. Two million dollars for one hundred percent.”
Harlow threw the papers on the floor and stomped her foot, her voice rising to a warble. “I love you, you asshole. Why are you doing this?”
Dixon didn’t take the bait. “Save your lies, Harlow. I’m not giving you better terms.”
FOSTER
Dixon’s business voice roused Foster from sleep. Is he on a call for work? Foster scrubbed at his face as Harlow’s voice joined in. What the hell? Foster swung his legs over the bed and tugged on his jeans.
He searched the floor for this shirt, but at hearing Dixon’s voice grow louder, he stopped searching. He burst into the living room to see Harlow standing, her arms wrapped around her middle, wearing nothing but his dress shirt. She looked furious.
A pile of papers sat on the floor beside her feet. Foster bent to pick them up. He scanned the first page. The contract. He stood up in a rush, looking up at Dixon with a question in his eyes.
His business partner stood immobile, face etched in stone. “What the hell is going on?”
Dixon shrugged. “Harlow’s about to sell us the company.”
It couldn’t be true. Foster turned back to Harlow. “Tell me this is some big misunderstanding. Tell me this hasn’t been the plan all along.”
She squeezed herself tighter. “I don’t know, you tell me. I can’t get a straight answer out of your business partner.”
Foster frowned. Had she really drafted a contract to sell? Was she really only in this to get the best deal? It couldn’t be true. What about Dixon? If she wanted to sell, did that mean she’d picked him?
A million memories flooded Foster’s mind: Harlow giving in to every one of Dixon’s demands the night before; her body bent over the couch while Dixon had his way with her; the way she curled up against his side as she fell asleep.
He turned to Dixon. “Is it true? Does this mean what I think it means?”
At last, Dixon’s gaze rose to meet his. “There won’t be a conflict. One hundred percent ownership transfer of Crane Matchmaking. No running into bad memories or facing what might have been every day. Harlow won’t ever need to step foot in the offices again. It will be a clean break.”
Foster swallowed.
It was true. She had decided to sell to be with Dixon. She’d never have to see him again. Foster would have rather been caught in the middle of a fight, using his face as a punching bag, instead of the knife to the gut Harlow’s decision had been.
He loved her. He was so damn in love with her the thought of losing her made it hard to breathe. But she didn’t want him. All the moments they shared. All the memories.
It didn’t mean a damn thing. She’d used him.
Foster turned, stumbling as he walked back into the bedroom. He gathered up his things, ignoring the questions from Harlow as he brushed past her.
At last one broke through. “Foster, what about your shirt?”
He paused at the front door. “Throw it away, Harlow. It can’t be worth anything to you.”
Chapter 23
HARLOW
The empty gold box of fudge sat in the corner of her cubicle, mocking her. Harlow had kept it as a reminder of Dixon’s softer side and his determination. Now she wished she’d thrown it away along with all of her silly hopes and outlandish dreams.
Foster and Dixon were gone. Instead of planning a future with the two of them as partners in business and life, she was back at her dead-end job, staring at her computer screen and fabric-covered walls. She
didn’t even have Leanne to lean on. The project Harlow had so royally screwed up was done and Leanne had gone on vacation.
It was just Harlow, her broken heart, and the shining happy faces of all the couples she’d matched reminding her how terrible her judgment was when it came to herself. This was worse than her ex. At least he’d pretended to care. Dixon couldn’t even manage that.
He’d thrown that contract at her like she deserved it. Like he never wanted to see her again. What the hell had she done to deserve that? It still didn’t make any sense. But Harlow was done trying to figure the two of them out.
She thought about calling Maddie, but what good would it do? Maddie had her two guys; she’d found a way to make that threesome work. All Harlow managed was a night of hot sex and a see you later.
Harlow tucked her legs underneath her and frowned. Whatever happened to make Dixon shut her out and Foster to slam the door was done. Harlow couldn’t change it. She just needed to pull up her big girl panties and get on with her life.
And she would, as soon as she sulked a teensy bit longer.
“Hey, babe. How’s it hanging?”
Oh, God. Harlow pressed her fingers to her eyelids, hoping if she ignored the question, he’d just go away. The last person she wanted to see that morning was Steve.
“Late night? I hear ya. My girl and I really tied one on, too. You know how ladies get with the champagne.”
She could smell his frat boy cologne and hear the smack of his gum every time he chewed. The jerk wasn’t getting the hint. At last, Harlow popped one eye open. “Hey, Steve. Now’s not a real good time, okay?”
“Oooh, you look like shit. What happened?”
Harlow sighed. He’d hear about it eventually, but she wasn’t in the mood to spill her guts. The rumor mill could do it for her. “It’s personal. Nothing you need to worry about.” Harlow picked up a pile of papers on her desk and patted them into a neater stack, doing her best to ignore Steve until he left.
It didn’t work. The man leaned closer, a hint of excitement brightening his eyes. “Did that lover boy of yours not like the joke?”
Harlow set the papers down. “I’m sorry?”
“I told her she might be laying it on thick. From the way she told it, that guy’s got a temper.”
Something rotten settled in the pit of Harlow’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”
“My girlfriend, Kendra. She said one of those hot-shot buyers of yours was her ex.”
The bile swirling in her stomach eased up into the back of Harlow’s throat. “Your girlfriend is Dixon’s ex? The one who left him at the altar the day of their wedding?”
“Damn.” Steve shook his head. “I knew my girl had a mean streak, but that’s rough.”
Harlow’s lips thinned into a line. “Is it her?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Kendra said her ex had become this super rich guy who bought and sold companies like they were trading cards. She looked him up one day and the name rang a bell. Dixon something or other…”
Harlow grated out the words. “Swift. Dixon Swift.”
Steve snapped his fingers. “That’s it. I thought the name rang a bell, you and that Leanne chick were always gabbing about him. So I mentioned your matchmaking business.” He stood there, nodding to himself like he was the greatest detective to ever put one foot in the front of the other.
If she could have wrung his neck, she would have. All she needed was to find out what happened, not listen to his tales of ingenuity. “What did you do, Steve? I need to know what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything, but Kendra, man, she put that guy through the ringer. Joined up through that service of yours and punked him real good. Guy thought she was there looking to get him back. She said he almost lost it over chat.”
Harlow just stared. Kendra had joined Crane Matchmaking and sought out Dixon? Why hadn’t he said anything? She frowned as she thought it over. Was that why he’d changed the terms of the deal? Was that what this was all about?
She’d been so busy these last few weeks, she’d just approved everyone without her usual vetting. And she’d given all the new adds access to chat, Dixon and Foster included. Harlow’s mind whirred, racing from one thought to the next.
Kendra. Did she even remember a Kendra? Steve was talking, but Harlow couldn’t concentrate. She needed to log into Crane Matchmaking and figure out what the hell was going on.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
Harlow blinked. “What is it?”
Steve leaned over the wall, jabbing his pudgy index finger at Harlow’s computer screen. “I asked if Dixon figured out it was a big, fat joke. The last thing I need is that asshole getting between me and my girl.”
Harlow pressed her lips together and scooted forward in her desk chair, concentrating on logging into the Crane Matchmaking site and searching for Kendra’s profile. “You should have thought about that before you let her be such a bitch.”
“Hey! Don’t call my woman the b-word. She hasn’t done anything to you.”
Harlow raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I mean, not really.”
“She could have cost me a major sale, so yeah, she did something to me.” That was only the beginning, but Harlow wasn’t going to give Steve the satisfaction.
Steve stepped back, his hands finally leaving her work space as he held them up in the air. “Look, I didn’t even know about it until she’d already done it. Kendra didn’t even know you were trying to sell; she just saw her ex on there and wanted to have a little fun. He sure did get mad when she said you would find her a match, though. Maybe she should have laid off.”
Harlow paused, finger on the mouse as she stared at a list of Kendra’s in her program. A shiver rushed through her. “She mentioned me to Dixon?”
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I mean I think she did. It is your business, right?”
Harlow exhaled. He was such an idiot. At last she zeroed in on the one. “It’s Kendra Tate, right?”
“Mm-hmm.” Steve took a step closer, leaning once again over the edge of her cubicle. “Hey, is that her profile? Can I take a look? I kinda want to know—am I her forever type, you know?”
Harlow minimized the program on the screen. “Sorry. All profiles are confidential.” She glanced at the time. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Bill’s meeting, maybe?”
Steve looked at his watch. “Shit, yeah. Don’t leave me hanging, though. When I come back, I want to know something about Kendra.”
Harlow waved him off. Steve wasn’t getting one word out of her except maybe a giant F-U right in his face. She brought the profile of his girlfriend back up and stared at it. There she was; the woman who broke Dixon’s heart.
A few keystrokes later, and Harlow had read her profile and pulled up all the details she could find of Kendra’s activities while logged in. She couldn’t read chat messages, but she could look at profiles and see which other clients someone had contacted.
Oh, God. The profile Kendra made read like a spec sheet on Dixon himself. She pulled up the activity in Kendra’s account. One chat with Dixon. That’s all.
Harlow’s stomach twisted. The woman had gone out of her way to join Crane Matchmaking and hunt Dixon down. If Steve was telling even a part of the truth, then who knows what Kendra told him. Before she’d met Dixon and Foster, Harlow would have set up every chat, nudging potential matches together from the beginning.
Did Dixon think that’s what she’d done here? Did he think she pushed Kendra his way? Harlow rolled back in her chair. Oh my God. If that was true… It all made sense. He probably hated her now. Thought she was some backstabbing friend of his ex out to take his money and screw him over.
She rubbed at her temples and tried to focus. If Dixon’s ex was the source of his anger, it didn’t have anything to do with Foster. But he’d been so mad that he’d stormed out of her apartment and out of her life. Harlow squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t take this another minute.
Forget her day job, the matchmaking business, Dixon and Foster, and all of their baggage. She needed a shoulder to cry on and a pint of chocolate ice cream. She needed Maddie.
Chapter 24
FOSTER
“You son of a bitch.” Foster threw the contract down on the desk and crossed his arms. “How long have the two of you been planning behind my back?”
“What are you talking about?” Dixon leaned back in his chair, brows knitted in confusion.
“You and Harlow. How long have you been planning to cut me out and just pretend like whatever I had with her didn’t mean anything?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Foster couldn’t believe his business partner. The man had been his closest friend for years. But a woman comes between them and he resorts to lying and backstabbing. He ran a hand over his head and tried to calm down.
He pointed at the contract. “When I first saw that, I thought Harlow had sent it. I thought she’d hired a lawyer and drafted up the contract, that she didn’t want to be partners anymore. I hoped it wasn’t because she was ditching us, but I didn’t know.”
Dixon didn’t say a word, so Foster kept going. “Then I find out this morning that it was you.” He walked up and stuck his finger right in the middle of the paper. “You had this drafted. All this time I thought it was just her, but you were in on it.”
“I don’t get where you’re going with this, Foster, but—”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m not some dumb seller that you can rip off with a shitty deal, Dixon. I get it. She picked you and you thought if she sold the whole company, then I couldn’t get in the way.” Foster threw his hands up and stalked over to the windows. “That I’d just roll over and let you have her.”