I groan as I roll over, and before I can even comprehend what is happening through my hazy brain, my hips are tilted, legs still dangling off the bed, and Jarrod is driving himself inside me—hard.
I can’t think. I can’t move. I just lie there, limp and—dare I say—completely satisfied. Jarrod isn’t the good golden boy I thought he was. He is naughty, really naughty, and that makes me smile. I have never had a lover quite like Jarrod.
Eric wasn’t attentive. He didn’t care if I climaxed. All he cared about was himself and keeping me beat down. Out of the one-night stands I had while in college and after, I climaxed only a handful of times. They were usually drunken and random, nothing to write home about, and I never saw them again.
Jarrod is different. He makes sure I am happy. He takes care of me, and I like that. I feel safe with him. I feel safe both emotionally and physically, and this is something new and different.
“You all right, baby?” Jarrod tentatively asks my limp body after finding his release.
“Perfect,” I whisper.
He chuckles, picks me up, and lays my head on the pillow. Then, he covers my body with a soft sheet. I fall asleep somewhere between a kiss on my temple and whisper-light fingertips caressing my shoulders.
I can’t eat. I can’t drink. All I can do is panic. I’m not panicking because I’m sitting in a first-class seat, flying in the air. No, I’m panicking because, in just a few short hours, I will be meeting Jarrod’s entire family—not just his siblings, but his parents, too.
To top off my panic attack, Jarrod informed me just moments ago that he had the photo-shoot proofs sent to his publicist, so he could talk to People magazine. Apparently, in just a few short months, they will be doing a spread on top-celebrity hot couples. I thought he was joking about the People thing. I mean, I knew he was in People before, but I never imagined he would actually send those proofs of us.
It’s all too much at once—Niklas, Eric, Jarrod, his family, People, Jo, my family.
“Relax, baby,” Jarrod whispers into my ear as our plane is descending to land.
“I can’t,” I admit, my hands gripping the armrests of my seat.
“Everybody will love you. My mom is so excited that she looked you up on Google and has been texting me all morning about how beautiful you are. She’s in love with you already, and you won’t have to do anything but smile to win over my dad and brothers.”
“What about your sister and sister-in-law?” I question. I’m freaked out.
“My sister-in-law will love you, of course. You bought her a present. She’s all about gifts.”
He smirks at me, but I notice he has avoided talking about his sister, the soon-to-be attorney.
“Your sister?”
“Don’t worry about her. She doesn’t even like me.”
Now, I’m freaked. She is going to hate me. I just know it.
Everyone pretty much slides on over when Jarrod walks up to the baggage claim. He makes quick work of gathering our bags. The man is huge. He commands attention. Even though he’s just wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a dirty Yankees ball cap, he looks so delicious that I want to climb him like a tree and run my tongue over his entire body.
“He’s so fucking hot, right?”
I blink, dragging my eyes away from Jarrod’s perfect ass to see a woman standing next to me. She’s about five feet four inches. Her clothes are perfect, and her hair and makeup are also perfect. She is staring right at Jarrod.
“Yeah,” I admit because he is hot.
“Jarrod Harrison. Fuck me, the man is a sex god. Once you’ve had him between your thighs, no one else will do.”
My mouth falls open at her declaration. I agree with her. Once you’ve had him, you never want to have anyone else. But who the hell is this woman, and why is she saying this to me?
“Pardon?” I ask, trying very hard to remember to speak English and not go off on her in angry Danish. I have developed a new jealous streak when it comes to Jarrod, and for some reason, I feel like I’m going to go crazy anytime a woman looks a little too long at him or says anything about him.
“Heard Jarrod was coming to town. Every time he’s in town, he calls me for a good fuck, so I thought I would pick him up here at the airport. Man like that, you get your hooks in, and you hold the fuck on any way he’ll let you. You aren’t from Kentucky, are you? Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be standing in the airport all alone. Where is your man?” she rambles.
This girl has no idea who I am, but she saw me looking at Jarrod, and she decided to stake a claim, informing me of a casual relationship she and Jarrod had. I am staring at her in disbelief when I feel him looking at me. I know he is because my body gets a little weak, and I feel like I am on fire.
“Delia,” Jarrod clips.
My eyes go wide and meet his. His cobalt pools of blue are angry. They scare me almost, and thank God, they aren’t aimed at me. Delia visibly shrinks, her shoulders sagging. Her face goes blank, but that doesn’t stop her from acting slutty.
“Hey, J baby. Cam said you were coming to town, so I thought I would give you a little welcome-home party like last time.”
I clamp my mouth shut and bite the inside of my cheek. We are exclusive now. I knew with a man like Jarrod, as good as he was in bed, I wasn’t his first, and he sure as shit wasn’t mine, but that being said, I still didn’t want it waved around in my face.
“Delia, I’m seeing someone now.” His tone sounds bored.
“What? You don’t do relationships.”
“Do now.”
This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had in an airport. I feel like I should step away maybe and give them some space. I don’t though. I want to know how this is going to play out.
“What the fuck? We’ve been fucking for ten years, and now, all of a sudden, you’re with someone. Who is this whore?”
This little chick is getting scary. Her face is all red, and she looks seriously pissed.
In all honesty, when you become someone’s fuck buddy and you let it go on for ten years, what are the odds that you’ll marry the guy? Not likely, I think.
“Delia, Amalie is standing right next to you. Calm down.” Jarrod slips his arm around my waist.
I just smile tentatively at the poor girl. I really do feel sorry for her. She isn’t ugly. She is actually really cute with long brown hair and big light-brown eyes. She’s short and petite, but standing next to Jarrod, she looks like a small child. It doesn’t work. They don’t work.
“You let me go on and on, and you’re fucking him. God!” she screams.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can say. I feel bad for the girl—not bad enough to leave Jarrod for her, but bad anyway.
“Fuck you, Jarrod. I sat around, being faithful to you for ten fucking years, and this is the thanks I get? You bring some Amazon woman here and shove her in my face? I won’t always be waiting around for you, you know that? I won’t always be here.”
Before Jarrod can even reply, she is gone, stomping her short legs as fast as she can go, right out the door.
“Jarrod?” I don’t know what to say. What does someone say to that?
I mean, he sat there and listened while my brother told me I needed to be with Eric, and Jarrod listened to me when I told him what Eric had done to me. So, who am I to judge that he had a fuck buddy for ten years?
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Jarrod says, enveloping me in a hug.
I don’t know why he is sorry. Is he sorry because she went off on us, or is he sorry because I found out? I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter.
“Don’t be sorry. We both have pasts. I’m sure once those photos come out in People, our lives will be full of past relationships coming out.” I shrug as we walk toward the rent-a-car counter.
He doesn’t say anything back to me, and words escape me. There is no point in hashing out the past. Who we have been with is inconsequential. Who we are with and who we are going to be with in the future are al
l that matter, and I want that to only be Jarrod Harrison.
Jarrod rents some huge SUV, and I can’t help but smile. The man is gigantic, and even though he drives that Ferrari all over New York, it can’t be comfortable for him. He does it all for show. The more I get to know him, the less he seems like a Ferrari kind of guy.
But who am I? I don’t even own a car. I haven’t needed one, and I don’t care about one.
“The drive will be about an hour or so until we get to the farm.”
Farm? No one ever said anything about a farm. Where the hell am I going?
“My parents have a ton of land, and my brother has a house out there where he lives along with stables for his horses and a training center. You’ll like it, Amalie, I swear.”
He can see the apprehension on my face. I would be a horrible poker player. He just smiles, and the rest of the drive is in silence.
I figure he is thinking about Delia, how hurt she must be after ten years of holding a torch for him and he gets into a relationship that’s practically thrown in her face. Granted, he didn’t ask her to pick him up at the airport, but it was obvious that Delia loved Jarrod. I know what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t care. I loved Eric, or at least I thought that I did, and he proved time and time again that his version of love was just toxic. I never thought I would find anything good in this life after he attacked me—not until I came upon Jarrod.
Jarrod is more than just some fling. We have discovered that we have both been searching for something, something that we found in each other, and when we met, we ignited. Just being in the same room as Jarrod makes me feel safe and at peace. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to Boston next week. I honestly don’t even want to think about it.
After being in Jarrod’s bed and in his arms for a full week, how can I go back to my crappy two-bedroom apartment with Jo and work up to fourteen hours a day?
Maybe, in a few months, I can look into moving to the city to be closer to Jarrod.
Will the relationship even be around in a few months?
I hope so. Jarrod is everything I have ever dreamed of. He’s sexy, kind, sweet, considerate, and the best at everything he does—everything.
“We’re here, baby,” Jarrod whispers, breaking my thoughts of a future life with him.
We pull up to lush rolling green fields and a white fence. It is beautiful. It’s everything I imagined when he mentioned it being a farm with horses. The white fencing just solidifies my vision.
Beautiful.
“It’s so pretty,” I say wistfully as the gate opens.
We start driving down a long gravel road. There are beautiful trees lining the lane. I can’t even see the house we are driving to. I look over to my left and see a few horses scattered around, grazing and walking lazily. This is a dream.
“The main house is just up this road, and off to the left is my brother’s place. We’ll be staying in the guesthouse, which is just around the corner from the pool, so we’ll have some privacy.”
I like this idea. I was nervous to stay in the same home as his parents and sister. I couldn’t imagine having sex with him in that full house, but I was fairly certain that it wouldn’t stop him from trying and succeeding. So, the guesthouse is perfect.
“I’m very nervous,” I admit, looking out the window while not paying any attention to where we are driving or the scenery around me. I am just staring off into space.
If this man’s family doesn’t like me, he’s the kind of man who would break things off with me. He loves his family. He admitted it almost immediately to me. He spends all of his off time with them, and there is no way he would want to be with someone his family hated. This is all so much for me to deal with. I am nervous and scared.
“Amalie, don’t be,” he says, stopping the car.
He cups my cheek to turn my head in his direction. I want to cry.
“I can’t help it. I’m sorry,” I whisper, a stray tear rolling down my cheek.
“You are beautiful, baby. You are sweet and kind. They will love you. Just be yourself. You’ve already won over my closest friends and their wives, so I know that my family will adore you.” He places a sweet kiss on my forehead and cuts the engine to the car.
I look up and gasp. The house is beautiful, gorgeous even. It is all gleaming white and tall with a huge wraparound porch. I would have killed to grow up in a place this beautiful, and by the way Jarrod talks of his family and how much he adores them, I know that the people inside will be just as beautiful as the surroundings.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I respond instead of screaming, No, are you freaking kidding me?
Jarrod doesn’t grab our bags out of the car. Instead, he comes to my side of the car and opens the door for me. Then, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side, tucking me in. He makes me feel safe.
“You are beautiful. You are smart. You are stunning. They are going to adore you,” he whispers against my neck before kissing me as we walk up the steps.
I don’t know why, but I expected Jarrod to knock on the door of his childhood home. He doesn’t do this. He just walks right in and then calls out for his mother, announcing that we are there. The house is gorgeous on the inside. It looks well-lived in and well-loved but not old or shabby. The floors are light hardwood with beautiful cream-colored rugs throughout. The formal living area has a large sage-green sofa with two canary-yellow wingback chairs and a large rich dark wood coffee table. It looks inviting, homey, and a place where a real family might gather to discuss the days’ events or host a Christmas celebration.
“Oh my good Lord. How beautiful are you?” a woman calls out.
My body is wrenched from Jarrod’s, and I am engulfed in a tight hug. I hesitantly wrap my arms around this woman. She is nothing like I expected.
Mrs. Harrison is around five feet seven inches tall. I tower over her. She has light-brown hair, and she is thin but shapely. She is holding a kitchen towel in one hand, and she has an apron wrapped around her body. Once we break from our hug, she holds my cheeks in her hands, and I look into her cobalt-blue eyes. They are exact replicas of Jarrod’s, stunningly beautiful.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Harrison,” I say with a shy smile.
“Nonsense. You’ll call me Maya, honey. It is beyond a pleasure to meet you, darling girl. You are more beautiful in person than you are in your pictures.”
She steps back, and Jarrod wraps his arm around me again.
“Look at the pair of you. Tallest people in the world, I swear, but you fit together so beautifully. My grandchildren are going to be stunning,” she remarks. Then, she turns on her heel and walks back into the kitchen.
“Grandchildren?” I ask.
“Just because my brother is having a baby doesn’t mean she’s going to stop harassing the rest of us to fill this house with babies again. Get used to it, Amalie. Mom wants a baby-maker, and she’s looking to you to get started on that.” He laughs.
I gasp, and then I start to panic, really panic. Babies scare the freaking crap out of me. Sure, they are all cute and cuddly when they are someone else’s, but I can’t imagine being a parent and carrying that amount of responsibility. It is frightfully daunting.
We silently follow Maya into the kitchen where I see Cameron sitting at the breakfast table. His eyes are sparkling, looking between Jarrod and me. He’s waiting for something crazy to happen, I’m sure.
“Cam,” Jarrod greets him with a tight-lipped smile.
Cameron just smiles back, full-on dazzle.
“I am makin’ chicken and dumplings for dinner. I hope that is all right, Amalie dear,” Maya says, practically giggling.
“I’m sure it will be lovely.” I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had that before. My mother pretty much cooked Scandinavian food, or we ate out. I don’t know anything about Southern foods.
“You’ll like it, darlin’,” Jarrod says with a smile.
The
n, we hear a bunch of shouting at the front door.
The Harrison household is…loud. Cameron is extremely boisterous, funny and a flirt.
Jarrod does not appreciate this at all. In fact, his tight-lipped smile doesn’t waver one bit during our dinner. He is polite to his family but quiet in a way where I am not sure he is thrilled to be sitting at the table with everyone. It makes me even more nervous than I already was.
“Amalie, I Googled you after I saw you on television. I must say, holy mother of hotness, those photos you take are sexy as hell,” Cameron smirks.
My eyes widen as I sip from the glass of sweet tea that Maya insisted I tried because no good Southern woman could let a guest in their home go without a taste of sweet tea.
“Um…” I don’t know what to say. My eyes dart to Jarrod praying for some kind of intervention from him.
“Cam, don’t be rude. Can’t you see that Amalie doesn’t want to talk about those? Although, if I had a body like that and could wear that stuff, you’d better believe I’d be proud as all hell to show off my assets,” Diana says with a wink and a smile.
Diana is the newly pregnant wife of Ashton Harrison, the doctor and the eldest Harrison boy.
Diana is adorable, and I love her instantly. She is teeny tiny, only about five feet tall with short red hair and a petite little body. Her green eyes sparkle, and she is obviously a ball of delightful fire. She is truly loved by the Harrison family. Ashton Harrison isn’t as tall as Jarrod, but he is around six feet and towers over his tiny wife. His build is much different from Jarrod’s. He is tall and lean, not full of bulk muscles like Jarrod and Cameron. Ashton is gentle and soft, seemingly sweet, and he probably has a wonderful bedside manner as all great doctors should have.
“Thank you, Diana, but really, it is all just a hobby,” I explain, trying to change the subject.
“So, what is your real job then, if modeling is just a hobby, as you say?” Elisa, Jarrod’s sister, asks me. Her eyes are questioning and not with the warmth that Maya’s holds.
“I am an ultrasound technician,” I answer, my eyes on Ashton. I watch his head perk up with the knowledge that we are somewhat in the same field.
Pitching for Amalie Page 15