Cat stared across the table at Harlow, her mouth hanging open wide in surprise.
“See?” Huck asked, leaning back into his chair and gesturing across the table to Harlow. “She knew it.”
Cat gave him a wicked look that would peel the skin off of any lesser man, but Huck had been with her too long to let it affect him. He leaned in to kiss her and she allowed it for a second before she got a taste of Old Bay. “Ugh,” she growled, pushing him away and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand while he laughed. “I just don’t think I should lose a bet based on information that wasn’t even in the movie. If it were in the movie, I wouldn’t have lost.”
Huck cleared his throat. “Did you forget about Better Off Dead?”
Cat scowled, but Harlow looked up from her crab and asked, “What about Better Off Dead?”
Jay laughed, leaning forward to answer when it became clear that Cat was determined not to relive another loss. “Huck asked Cat how many Q-tips Lane Meyer uses in the bathroom scene. Cat guessed seven, but he used eight.”
Harlow scrunched up her nose and flicked a look between Cat and Huck. “I hate to tell you this. But you’re both wrong.” She sucked on the end of the claw in her hand as if she hadn’t just dropped an atomic bomb. Cat and Huck were both competitive and stubborn. One of them being wrong was ludicrous. But both of them? Unthinkable.
“No. I’m right,” Huck said. “We doubled checked the video clip on my phone.” He almost crossed his arms, but then realized they were dirty, so he settled for giving Harlow a superior look.
She shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t know what to tell you, but you’re wrong. Watch it on a big screen in high def,” she added with a pointed look before turning back to her lunch. “The funny thing is, there are two possible answers to that question. When Lane is in the bathroom by himself looking in the mirror, he puts one in his left ear, two in his right ear, one up each nostril, and four in his mouth. There are nine Q-tips, not eight.”
“Two in the right ear?” Cat echoed, bewildered.
Harlow wasn’t done. “But the thing is, when his dad comes in and he turns around to wave at him, the ones in his mouth are all different. And he actually has five instead of four in his mouth,” she said, gesturing to her face. “So he has ten Q-tips in that scene. It’s a little movie goof. My dad pointed that one out to me. Fancies himself a movie goof expert,” she said, shrugging.
Cat and Huck stared at her in bewilderment. That only lasted for a few seconds before Cat rounded on Huck. “You owe me! You were wrong too! And I had to go to lunch with Jackie.”
“Which you used as a chance to spread rumors about me,” he said, grinning back. He reached up to swipe a dirty finger across Cat’s face, leaving a trail of Old Bay along her jaw. When she squealed in disgust, he leaned in and grabbed her shoulders, spreading crab remnants all over her before licking the trail of spice off her face.
We all laughed as Cat struggled to get away.
“Wait a minute!” my mother interrupted loudly, slamming her wine glass on the table, nearly breaking it off at the stem. “Why are you wearing a wedding ring?”
My gaze clashed with Harlow’s a second before her eyes dropped to my hand in accusation. I’d held to my promise, though. I wasn’t wearing my ring. It took a moment for both of us to realize my mother wasn’t talking to us. She was talking to Huck. My eyes were drawn to his left hand which was gripping Cat’s shoulder…and sporting a shiny band on his ring finger.
Holy fuck. My brother was wearing a wedding ring.
I expected him to wither under my mother’s furious glare. We all knew that robbing her of the chance to plan a wedding would be equal to shaving her eyebrows off while she slept. Unforgivable. And yes, I did realize I’d already committed that sin, but I wasn’t planning on telling her in front of the whole family, if ever. Besides it would be expected of me to elope—not Huck.
Huck just grinned, holding up his hand. “This isn’t a wedding band. It’s an engagement band.”
“What?” My mother’s mouth hung open like he was speaking another language.
“I proposed,” Cat explained, wiping her hands on a paper towel before trying to clean her clothes. “And he said yes.”
“As if he had a choice,” Jay mumbled into his wine glass.
“Oh. I…uh…I guess…when is the wedding?” my mother stumbled over her words. I had to stifle a laugh. She was holding her composure pretty well, but my mother was old-fashioned, and a woman proposing to a man? Cat had just demolished my mother’s expectations of how the world worked. That’s what I liked about Cat. Not only did she have my stubborn brother wrapped around her little finger, but she didn’t give a shit about doing what tradition or society expected of her.
“Nothing planned yet. We might just go to Vegas.” Cat shrugged, unaware she’d just done the equivalent of punching my mother in the face.
“Vegas,” my mother sputtered. “You can’t get married in Vegas! That’s…unsophisticated!”
Oh shit. My mother’s legendary poise was crumbling under the horror of an untraditional wedding, and I could feel Harlow go still next to me.
“Dana,” my dad warned. It was the first word he’d said since he’d started eating. My dad took his crab feasts seriously. I wasn’t sure if he’d even bothered to breathe once the bushel had been dumped in the middle of the table.
“But,” my mother started, turning toward him. “Vegas?”
Cat scowled, and Huck was working to do damage control as Jay sat back with his wine, watching everything with complete amusement.
“It’s none of our business,” my father said.
“It most certainly is.” My mother took a sip of her wine, her eyes shooting accusations at Cat she couldn’t voice aloud. We all knew that even though Huck teased Cat relentlessly, he’d never put up with a harsh word about her from someone else. Especially our mother.
Harlow suddenly pushed up from the table, holding her dirty hands up like a doctor ready to go in surgery. She grabbed a paper towel from the table and then stumbled around her chair, heading for the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what had sent her running.
Her eyes darted back to the table, flicking between my brother, Cat, and my irate mother. “Bathroom?” she muttered.
“This way.” I held the door open for her to go into the house, just as happy as she was to get away from the firing squad out on my parents’ patio.
“How much longer do you want to stay?” she asked, once we were inside. Her voice was nervous and so different from the confidence she had just moments before when she was setting my brother straight.
“I’ll take you home whenever you want.” I stopped next to the bathroom door and leaned against the jam.
“No. I just…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want you to have to cut your visit short because of me. I’m guessing you don’t get to see your brother that much.”
I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I hung out with him last night. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go.” I reached up to touch her jaw, but then remembered my dirty hands. “Or I can show you around before we leave. I could take you out to see the horses. They’re my sister’s pride and joy.” I held her gaze, and when she didn’t answer, I said, “Just you and me. My mom’s too busy interfering with my brother to want to tag along.”
Her eyes brightened at the mention of escaping my mom and she nodded. “Okay.”
“Good.” I pushed off the wall, nodding to the bottle on the sink. “Mom keeps lemon juice in there for getting the Old Bay smell off your hands. I’ll go wash up and meet you back here in five.”
“Trace,” she called out, causing me to turn back around.
“Yeah?”
She took a big breath like she was regretting calling me back. Finally, she said, “Thanks for bringing me. I was actually having a good time. I don’t want you to think I wasn’t. It was nice being around your family.” She l
ooked down at her fingers, searching for words. “Sometimes it’s hard with my dad and sisters so far away.” Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and she gave me a tentative grin. “Thanks for sharing your family with me today. They’re pretty great.”
My eyebrows lifted. “Even my mom?” Although to be fair, my mom had seemed to like Harlow almost instantly. Jay was still her favorite, but Harlow had made a good impression.
She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Your mom was fine. I can understand her being freaked out about the possibility of a Vegas wedding.” She shrugged, looking down at her hands again. “It still freaks me out.” She let out a heavy sigh and then turned to go into the bathroom.
“Harlow?” She peeked over her shoulder. “I just have to tell you—”
Her eyebrows raised in question as if worried about what I’d say. She’d taken a risk by admitting she’d had fun spending time with me. I knew that wasn’t easy for her, and that pushing her further might ruin everything. But this was me we were talking about. Pushing boundaries was what I did.
“Make it ten minutes. Watching you eat crabs was such a fucking turn on. I might need to go take a cold shower.”
“Weirdo.” She rolled her eyes and the smile she gave me before turning back around was genuine and relaxed.
I was gonna win this girl over. There was no other choice.
***
“So were you and Huck into riding horses, too?” Harlow ran her fingers across the muzzle of my sister’s palomino, and he nuzzled into her other hand, searching for treats.
“Nah. That was just my sister, Pately. Huck played lacrosse, but I was only ever interested in snowboarding.”
Harlow cocked her head to the side, a surprised smile crossing her face. “Snowboarding? Really? That’s interesting. Are there even mountains around here?”
I couldn’t tell if she was making fun of me or not, but I didn’t care as long as she was smiling. “It’s the only thing I ever wanted to do,” I told her. “When I saw snowboarding in the ’98 Olympics, I became obsessed.”
She turned to face me, leaning against the stall door. “You wanted to be the next Shaun White?”
I rested my elbow on the wooden door and looked down at her. “Not back then. He didn’t go the Olympics until 2006. By then, I was already addicted to the sport. Besides, he mostly competes superpipe. He’s all about getting air and throwing tricks. I’m in it for the speed. Snowboard cross is my event,” I explained.
“Oh.” Harlow blushed. “Snowboard cross? I don’t even know what that is. I don’t know much about sports. Shaun White is the only snowboarder I know.”
“The only snowboarder you know?” I poked her in the ribs, and she screeched, twisting away from me as she giggled. “What am I? Chopped liver?”
“I meant he’s the only professional snowboarder I’ve ever heard of,” she explained through her laugh. She backed away from me, hands in front of her body to ward off any additional tickling.
I advanced on her, intending to exact revenge in the form of more of her laughter. But then I noticed the innocent and expectant way she looked at me, and it suddenly hit me. Did she truly know who I was? Was I just some guy she met in Vegas? Some cocky moron who’d tricked her into marriage? She’d told me that night that she was going to college, and I told her I was finishing up a degree as well, but I didn’t remember ever mentioning snowboarding to her. Which is odd since snowboarding was my life. My identity. All the times she’d told me that she was worried that our sham marriage would ruin her reputation, she never brought up the fact that my face was pretty well known in the sports world and could bring about her ruination even faster if word got out. But how could she not know who I was? I might not be a household name like Derek Jeter or Cal Ripken, but my face was plastered on the sides of buses and in gossip rags. Did she really not know?
“You know I’m a professional snowboarder, right?” I asked, stalking toward her.
Her mouth opened just slightly and a laugh tumbled out. “I’m not really impressed by athletes.” She pointed to her chest and continued to back away, flashing me a teasing smile. “Besides, I’m the one who tells stories, Trace. Journalist, remember?”
I tilted my head and inspected her expression. “Is that why you ran the morning after your birthday, Cricket? Because of who I was?”
“Don’t worry, your charming personality isn’t to blame. Sobriety made me run.”
I huffed and crossed my arms. “Sobriety?”
“Don’t act all hurt. I think you’re just upset I beat you to it.” She raised her eyebrows in question, challenging me.
“You want the truth, Cricket?” I took a step toward her until we were nearly touching. I could hear her breath catch as I leaned down to speak into her ear. “If I had woken up first, I wouldn’t have left. I would have kissed that sassy mouth of yours and fucked you until you remembered why you begged me to marry you in the first place.” My grin felt almost predatory as she took another step back and I followed her. “You can keep running, Harlow. But I was made to race. And I like to win.” A surge of adrenaline shot through my chest at my words. “I was born to win,” I added.
In that moment, my words were a reaffirmation to myself. Winning was what I was meant to do, whether it was with her or on the snowboard.
“Born to win?” Her eyebrows shot up, and she licked her bottom lip. Then her mouth hooked up in a wicked grin. “Is that what you think?” With a confident tilt of her head, she pinned me with a defiant gaze. “Too bad I ran track in high school.” Before I could respond, she twisted around and took off for the house. Sprinting.
She was fucking running from me. Again.
Game on. I may not have been a runner, but I was made for speed. And for the chase.
I took off after Harlow, kicking hay and dirt up behind me. In seconds, she was out of the barn and streaking across the grass toward the house. She was fast, and had a good head start, but the house was far away, and her tight little ass provided too much motivation for me to let her get away. Harlow made it a good forty yards before I was on her heels, catching her around the waist to lift her off her feet. She squealed and struggled to get away, her weight carrying both of us to the ground. At the last minute, I spun and took the brunt of the fall. I landed on my back with her sprawled across my chest. She squirmed around, attempting to get up and I flipped her over, rolling until I had her back pressed into the thick grass. I hovered over her as she laughed, trying to catch her breath.
“I win,” I growled.
She blinked slowly, and her smile was soft and content as her breathing slowed. “Maybe I let you catch me,” she teased. Her gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips in invitation.
I bent my head down, and when my mouth touched hers, she silently melted into me. She tasted like sunshine and lazy afternoons. Her kiss was warm and confident, taking as much as she gave. I was on my elbows to keep my weight off her, but my hands went to the sides of her face. My fingers tangled in her dark hair, and my thumbs caressed along her jaw as I kissed her. I’d forgotten how smooth her skin was. How addicted my mouth was to hers.
When her hands slipped under the fabric of my shirt and slid along the skin underneath, my body flinched in surprise. Her fingers stilled for a moment and then began to trace the ridges of muscles along my stomach, toying with the waistband of my jeans, tempting me to lose control. Or give it to her. I wasn’t sure which.
Her tongue swept against mine, and when her fingers gripped my belt loops and gently pulled me closer, my hips pressed into her. The sound she made in response was one of surrender.
I pulled back to look at her and her chin tilted up, her lips searching for mine again. When she met nothing but air, she opened her eyes, and I could see all of the arguments were gone, and it was just me and Harlow, the girl I met at the fountain. I ran my thumb along her lips which were pink and wet from kissing me.
“I’m ready to renegotiate our deal,” I told her.
Harlow’s eyes twitche
d, narrowing in suspicion. “What?”
I bent down to place a kiss on the corner of her barely-there smile and lingered a little longer than I meant to. When I reluctantly pulled away, I said, “Give me two months, Harlow. Just until Thanksgiving. Let’s go out on dates. You get to know me, and let me know you.” I searched her eyes, willing her to agree. To give me a chance to prove Vegas wasn’t a mistake.
“Dates?”
I nodded. “Just give it a try. And at the end, if you still want the annulment—” I paused, forcing the words out. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll pay for the lawyers and everything.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, her eyes darting between mine, conflicted and worried. “You promise?” she finally whispered. She seemed uncertain, like she wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.
“I swear. If that’s what you truly want.”
“Why?” she asked quietly. “Why do you want the two months?”
“Why not?”
The smile she gave me was sweet, unsure, and yet hopeful all in one. And for a moment, I let myself believe she was hoping for the same thing I was…a reason to say yes. A reason to relive that night, every day if possible. I’d never been the romantic sort. I didn’t dream of true love or fate. I wasn’t even sure I believed those things existed. But I was sure of one thing. I wanted Harlow to crave me as insanely as I did her. I wanted to consume her thoughts, and I wanted her to wonder why she couldn’t stop thinking about me. I wanted to earn each and every smile she had. I wanted to win her over.
She chewed on her bottom lip and looked away. “Just dates?” she asked. “No sex?”
I grinned. “Sex is definitely up for grabs if you want it.”
She turned to glare at me.
“Like I said. If you want it. Not a requirement,” I promised.
Harlow visibly relaxed.
“Although you already bought the cow in Vegas,” I pointed out. “You might as well enjoy the milk. Am I right?” I couldn’t resist messing with her, and that remark earned me a disgusted huff and a smack on my shoulder.
Hitched (Hearts of Stone Book 2) Page 9