by Lori Garrett
I slap my knee and laugh harder. “No kidding? That was smart thinking.”
“I was lucky she gave me a warning.” He pats his jacket pocket. “We never had any children. Broke her heart, it did. But you been hangin’ around, eating my wife’s cookies and pies, helping me more than I paid you for since you were a little boy. I know Charlotte would have wanted me to pass this along to you.”
He hands me a tiny manila envelope. I take it and spill the contents onto my hand. It’s a diamond ring, old fashioned, delicate, probably worth a pretty penny.
“I...can’t accept this,” I say, pushing it back.
He waves his hand at me. “I held it all this time because I thought you’d pawn it and throw the money away. I don’t care if you do pawn it. It’s pretty old fashioned for some girls. But at least if you choose to pawn it now, you can use the money to buy a shiny new one and get it on that girl’s finger.”
I stare, because—and I’m gonna be honest—I have a lump in my damn throat.
My mama’s rings had long been pawned by my father. I can afforded to buy one for Harlow, but there’s something that feels so damn right about asking the girl I love to marry me using a ring that has seen decades of the kind of love I can only hope for.
“Thank you,” I finally manage, because my mama did raise me right in the end, I guess.
Daniels slaps me hard on the back before he heads to his old truck. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you to man up, son. I’m proud as hell of you.”
He gives me a wave before pulling out and driving away, leaving me with a feeling that I haven’t felt in years.
I feel proud. Proud of myself, proud of what I’ve become.
And ready. I’m ready as hell.
***
“Well, how’d it go? Tell me every damn detail,” I say, picking her up and spinning her around as she kisses me and laughs.
I put her down and Harlow snuggles against me and runs her finger lightly over my chest, squeezing her eyes shut and squealing.
“Gunner, I got a part! I got a part! It’s a small part, some minor dancer in the background. But it’s mine if I want it!” She jumps back into my arms, her legs locked tight around my waist, her mouth on mine.
My dreams for Harlow have come true, but my heart fucking shatters all at the same time. And I feel stupid and selfish for it, but it’s the truth.
“Baby,” I say, pushing her hair back away from her face. “That’s incredible. I’m so damn proud of you. I knew you’d get a part.”
“I missed you,” she murmurs, rubbing against me in a way that makes me see sparks. I put her down, throw her bags over my shoulders, and hurry her out of the airport.
“You have no damn idea how much I’ve missed you, Harlow. I need to get you home now.” I pull on her hand, taking the escalator stairs two at a time.
She shakes her head, her blonde hair flying in her face. “Nope. I can’t wait,” she says as we hit the parking garage.
I find the car and throw our bags in the back. She slides in and waits for me to close the door, before she hops onto my lap, her hand working to open my zipper and pull my dick out.
“You really can’t wait, can you?” I ask.
“Why do you think I wore a dress home?” she asks, settling over me and sliding my dick into her tight, hot pussy. “I thought about you when I danced,” she says, moving slowly over me.
I grip her hips hard and nod. “Uh-huh.”
“I thought about how much I’m going to miss you.” She pulls down the zipper of her light jacket and tugs on the single tie that holds her dress together. The fabric falls open, and I only have to dip my head to take her nipple in my mouth. “Damn! That feels so good, Gunner! I thought about how I’m going to have to make do without this.”
I thrust into her harder, squeezing her tits and loving the moan that escapes her lips. “Never. I’ll hop a plane anytime you need. We’ll manage, baby. We will. Fuck. Harlow, you’re so damn tight.”
She presses onto me, and I feel like my hands aren’t fast enough to touch her everywhere I need to. Before we want to, she comes, and the sweet, hot grip of her pussy on my dick is too much. I thrust deep into her and come hard, loving the feel of her body, slack and heavy on top of mine.
She takes my hands and I wrap my fingers around her tiny ones, noticing the lack of a band on her left ring finger. The ring Daniels gave me has been burning a hole in my pocket, but I can’t give it to her yet. I’m better than I was, but asking her to be my wife? There’s a part of me that thinks, no matter how much she insists that she loves me and will do anything for me, a Mills will never become a Hunt.
Loving me is one thing. Tying herself to me for good? No matter how hot the sex is, no matter how much we love being together, I don’t know if either one of us is ready for that.
For now, I just need to get her home as quickly as I can and make up for all the lonely nights when I tossed and turned for hours in a bed that was too empty without her.
CHAPTER 17
HARLOW
“Are you sure you want the flowers there? I think they’d look much better over by the food,” Claire says, holding a clipboard to her chest while she cocks her head and stares at the arrangements of peonies and succulents with way more intensity than is required.
“Claire, I’ve said it one hundred times. I don’t care where anything is set up. I honestly don’t even understand why we need such a big fuss over me leaving. I’ll be back all the time, it’s not forever. Plus, I only have like, two friends in this town, so who all is going to come to a going away party for me?”
Claire’s pretty little face looks annoyed at my lack of gratitude, and she sweeps her long red hair back off her shoulders with a frustrated flick of her hand. “Plenty of people. I mean, did you see the bar? You wouldn’t even ask that question if you knew how much your dad paid for this party.”
I sigh. Another event that I’m the center of, that I want no part of.
“Listen, Harlow.” Claire looks at me with wide eyes and gives me what must be her ‘serious face.’ “I know your mama hasn’t been around, and I know that you don’t really consider me a mother-type figure.”
Um, understatement of the century. Claire’s like, five years older than I am. Who is she kidding?
“But I want you to know that I care about you. I love your daddy and I’m going to make sure he’s well taken care of while you’re away. I know you worry about him.”
I give a small nod. “Thanks, Claire.”
“And I got you a little something.” She reaches into her clutch and pulls out a small, gift-wrapped box.
“Oh, Claire, really, that wasn’t necessary.”
“No, no, I insist. I know your dad got you all set up over there in the city, but I want to do something special for you, too.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind,” I say.
My dad did go above and beyond with getting an apartment lined up. But he also put me on a payment schedule to make sure that I pay him every cent back. That’s good for us, though. It makes me feel a little less stuck under his thumb.
Claire nudges my hands. “Go on, open it. The guests will be here soon.”
I peel back the thick paper and lift the lid off of the white box. Inside is a dainty butterfly charm.
“It’s really beautiful, thank you,” I say.
“I wanted you to have something that would inspire you to spread your wings and fly, Harlow. You can be anything you want to. You can fulfill your dreams if you believe in yourself. Just like I did.”
I want to roll my eyes at her cheesy sentiment. I want to ask what exactly her dreams are? She doesn’t work, and her claim to fame is being my dad’s girlfriend. I hardly consider that ‘spreading your wings.’
But, before I can say anything else, Gunner Hunt, man of my dreams, walks into the room wearing a well-fitted, blue suit.
My mama used to whisper to her lady friends that a well-tailored suit on a man does for women
what good lingerie does for men. I didn’t understand what she meant back then, but now I know exactly why she blushed when my daddy came down dressed up in one of his best suits.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been more turned on in my whole life. I want to ditch this party even more now. I rush over to Gunner, my heels clicking on the sleek marble floor the entire way.
“You came,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his lips to mine. I run my fingers down the soft lapel of his jacket. "And you look incredible, Gunner. I mean...” I let my eyes roam up and down his body, and love the slow, sexy smile that works over his mouth. “Wow," I breathe.
“Of course I came. You think I’d miss saying goodbye to you?” He leans close, wets his lips with his tongue, and says in a voice so low it sends chill bumps up and down the back of my neck, "And you...I can't wait to peel this pretty little dress off of you later."
I swallow hard. “We’d still say goodbye, Gunner. I mean, properly. I just didn’t know if you’d really show up, with my dad here and everything—”
“I’m not worried about your pops, Harlow. He wants what’s best for you, same as me,” Gunner says, as he strokes my arm with the back of his hand.
I want this, right here, forever.
“I wish things were easier. I wish you could go with me. I wish—”
Gunner cuts me off with his lips pressed hard on mine.
“How much time do we have before everyone shows up?” he asks, his voice hot and desperate.
“Not enough,” I say, grabbing his lapels and shaking my head before I plaster a big smile on my face. “Speaking of which, there’s my dad.”
I feel Gunner’s posture go rigid as we turn toward my dad, who’s walking up the steps of the country club.
“Harlow, I hope you’re not making a spectacle of yourself, dear.” Dad’s eyes dart quickly from me to Gunner and back again.
I shake my head and look to my left and right. “Dad, there’s no one even here.”
“Harvey Mills,” Dad says, extending his hand to Gunner. “And you are?”
“Gunner Hunt, sir, pleasure to meet you.”
Dad squints at Gunner like he may recognize him. Maybe from that time in the greenhouse when he walked in and Gunner was still shirtless and buttoning the fly of his jeans.
“Gunner. Huh. So, you’re the one that got this new career all lined up for my girl?” Dad asks, his voice just on the side of being harsh.
“No sir, I just got her to a director. She did the rest on her own. It’s her talent that got her the job.” Gunner puts a protective arm around me, and I lean into his strength.
My father nods noncommittally and excuses himself to go find Claire.
“Thank you,” I whisper, turning to look up at Gunner.
“For what?” he asks.
“For what you said. To my father.” I watch Gunner’s jaw work back and forth. “What is it?”
“It’s just...I don’t like the idea of you feeling embarrassed about yourself or what you do, baby.” He sets his hands on my shoulders. “This whole big production, isn’t it supposed to be about you doing what you love?”
“Yes,” I whisper, feeling like I’m about to wilt.
“I don’t think it would be too hard for your father to acknowledge that you are pretty damn amazing is all.” He pulls me close and is about to kiss me when the door bursts open, and Daisy runs at me, arms wide.
“I heard there was gonna be a killer party here!” she hollers.
I laugh and shush her while my father and Claire frown from across the room.
“Do you always have to be so damn crazy?” I ask, crushing her in a hug.
“I have every right to go a little crazy when my best friend accomplishes her dream! I already scoped out tickets online. I’ll be there, front row, opening night, screaming and cheering for you,” she promises, and I kiss her cheek.
“It’s Broadway, not some rock concert, you crazy thing,” I scold. Gunner stands to the side and smiles wryly.
Daisy turns her attention his way suddenly. “Hot mother of all that’s holy. You clean up damn nice, Gunner Hunt.”
He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. “You look very beautiful, Daisy.”
She fans her face and giggles, turning to me. “He can sure as shit turn that charm on, can’t he? So, is there gonna be dancing at this party? Oooh, drinks!”
We watch Daisy beeline to the bar and flirt like crazy with the handsome young bartender. Gunner shakes his head, but he’s laughing. Before we can say another word, guests start to spill in.
Most are my father’s friends and business acquaintances. Claire thought ahead enough to invite the girls from my dance class, and it’s wonderful to see them, because they actually want to know every detail of the audition and the rehearsal schedule. Daisy and Gunner always listen politely, but they don’t want to hear everything a million times the way other dancers do.
I’m just beginning to relax and enjoy the party when Claire taps her glass and everyone stops talking and looks to the front of the room. My father is holding up a glass of champagne and waiters are buzzing around, making sure everyone has a glass.
“I’m so glad you all made it here today. As you may have heard, we have had some exciting news in the Mills family. My daughter, Harlow, has been accepted to dance on Broadway.”
I feel my cheeks go pink, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. I’ve waited a long time for something like this, and it feels so good to hear my father talk about my dancing with pride in his voice. Everyone claps and there are lots of murmurs from the crowd that sound impressed.
“Now, as good as that news is,” my father says over the buzz, “what Harlow doesn’t know is that I’ve set her up so that when she comes back from this little dance run, she’ll be able to take her place at my side and become the vice president of accounts. I’ve already talked to your college about finishing your business degree after this leave of absence. And, Clay, I think we’ll have to get you two on a few, er, business dates when she gets back, right?”
The audience turns to look at Clay, who smiles and gives an awkward little wave. I’m holding the glass in my hand so hard, I’m afraid I’ll break it, and my hand shakes so much, I slosh champagne over the rim. I blink hard, trying like hell to hold back the tears.
I look over for Gunner, just wanting to have him hold me in his arms, but he’s not by my side. I’m about to bolt out the door, but I look up and see Gunner jumping onto the stage where my dad is still standing.
“Uh, thank you for the lovely words, Mr. Mills,” he says dryly, and a few people laugh. My heart knocks hard in my chest.
“Yes,” my father announces loudly. “Let’s toast to my daughter, Harlow—”
“Not yet.” Gunner’s voice echoes through the room. My dad leans close and murmurs something low into Gunner’s ear. Gunner’s face gets a look of fury, and one hand balls into a fist, but he doesn’t say a word for a second.
“What in the hell is going on?” Daisy asks, suddenly at my side. The crowd around us is whispering pretty much the same thing.
“I only have a minute to say this,” Gunner says, and my father scowls. Everyone in the room looks up at him. “So I’ll be quick. I grew up on the wrong side of town, with no one giving a shi—excuse me. With no one giving much of a care how I turned out. And I didn’t do much other than live up to everyone’s low expectations.”
The room is silent, like we’re all holding our breath, waiting for his next words.
Gunner points to me. “Then I met Harlow Grace Mills. And my life changed. Because she has the biggest heart and the best soul of any person I’ve ever known. A few weeks ago, I got the chance to watch Harlow dance.” He shakes his head, his smile making my heart jump in my chest. “I’ve seen a lot of beauty in my life, but nothing can hold a candle to watching Harlow glow when she dances. And, much as I hate to see her leave Piedmont, I love that other people will get to see that passion. Get to come c
lose to that beauty. I know that watching Harlow do what she loves changed me. It made me ashamed for wasting time. I want you to know how proud I am of you, Harlow Grace. And how much I love you.” He locks eyes with me and his voice goes hoarse. “Cheers.”
My father grimaces, but is forced to clap along with the explosion of whistles and cheers from the crowd.
“Holy hell, that boy is going to have a good night with you, isn’t he?” Daisy asks.
I laugh and she pushes my arm. “What are you waiting for?” she demands. “You better run to him.”
And I do. As fast as I can, I run into his arms and kiss him in front of everyone. “You hate speaking in front of people,” I say into his ear.
He crushes me close. “There’s nothing I hate so much that I’d let it stand in the way of making the girl I love happy.”
“Oh, Gunner. Thank you so much. I love you.” I look into his eyes and my knees go weak. “Can we leave?”
“C’mon, kitten. I think this party has peaked.”
We race out, laughing, to his car, and he drives the opposite way from his house. “Where are we headed?” I ask.
“I think we need to send you off right.” That’s all he says, and I sit tight as we pull up at the cemetery.
He comes around to open my door and pops the trunk. There are two packed bags and, lying next to them, a bouquet of yellow roses and one of daisies.
We walk silently, first to my mother’s headstone. Gunner stands, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, as if he’s at attention. I sink to my knees and lay the yellow flowers on her grave. I bow my head, but I don’t say a word, because the tears are falling too hard and fast for me to get a handle on my voice. But I know that my mama would understand what I’m feeling. I know she’d be so happy that I was going to dance. And that I’d have a man like Gunner at my side.
I stand after a few long minutes and brush the grass off my knees, then walk with Gunner and watch as those big, strong hands that always touch me just right place the delicate bouquet on the earth. He lays his hand flat on the top of the stone, and, though he looks emotional, he opens his mouth and says, “Mama, I miss you so much. It hurts every day. But what hurts most is that you never got a chance to meet Harlow. You would have loved her as much as I do. I know that.”