Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set

by Melanie Harlow

  A couple hours later, I could see why she wanted a day off. She was all over the place, doing everything from preparing food to serving it to pouring coffee to ringing people up, and she always had a smile on her face. As busy as she was, she made it a point to say hello to regulars and newcomers alike, and often stopped to chat with people she knew or someone with a question.

  I finished my breakfast and tried to work on the novel I was writing, but I was distracted and tired. Just go home and get some sleep. You’ve been up all fucking night. But home up here was a huge empty house, and although I liked its creaky old floors and wraparound porch and the view of the Nixon cherry orchard next door from my bedroom window, something about being there alone saddened me. I liked it in here better. I liked the happy, caffeinated mood, the hum of conversation, the Billie Holiday playing in the background, the smell of muffins in the oven and coffee in the pot.

  Besides, Natalie was here, and if I was honest with myself, I’d admit the real reason I came up North was to figure out why I couldn’t get her out of my head. It made no sense—I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I knew she was still with Dan, and I had no reason to believe she’d be interested in me even if neither of those things were true. And yet for months now, maybe even the last year, the thought of her just wouldn’t quit me. Why the hell was that?

  I’d told her I was up here researching sex in haunted places, and that was true enough. But the only ghost in my head was her.

  I mentioned I’d fuck a ghost, right?

  Four

  Natalie

  Dan called me around three that afternoon. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hi.” I exhaled and plunked myself onto a stool at the counter.

  “Tough day?”

  I rubbed one calf muscle. “Just long. Busy, which is good. But we’re closed now, just locked the door.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “After I finish up here, which will probably take me a while, since I’m short-staffed today, I was going to swim. You have tennis tonight, right?”

  “I do, and then we were planning on going out for pizza and a few beers after that, since it’s the last night this league meets. Is that OK?”

  “That’s fine.” And it was fine, although I’d sort of hoped for some alone time with him tonight. Not because I missed him, but frankly I was a little wound up with sexual tension. A good hard bang sounded pretty damn good. Didn’t he feel the same way? “But I’d like to see you tonight. Maybe we could meet up later.”

  “I’m not sure how late I’ll be.”

  “Oh.” Damn. If I was the kind of girl who had sex toys, I’d pull them out tonight. At least I didn’t have to feel bad about seeing Miles…but I did have to tell Dan about it. Crossing my fingers it wouldn’t cause a fight, I said, “My old friend Miles Haas is in town. You remember him?”

  “Who?”

  “Miles Haas.”

  “The sex maniac?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s not a maniac, he’s a writer. He blogs for—”

  “I know who he is. I still can’t believe that pipsqueak asshole gets all those girls. He’s gotta be lying, or making shit up.” Dan sounded mad about it.

  “I have no clue. Maybe he does.” I doubted it, but I didn’t feel like arguing.

  “So what’s the deal? Are you meeting up with him?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Where?”

  “No plans yet.” I took a breath. “Do you have a problem with my seeing him?”

  A pause. “No.”

  “We’re just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been.”

  “I know.” His voice had softened. “You’d never be interested in a guy like that.”

  “A guy like what?”

  “A sleazebag.”

  “He’s not a sleazebag. He’s just a guy having a good time and writing about it.”

  “As long as he’s not having a good time with you, I don’t care what he does.”

  I smiled. “I’ll make sure he has a terrible time. We’ll probably just grab dinner or something. Catch up a little.”

  “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow night. We have reservations at eight, right?”

  “Yes. Skylar made them. Have fun tonight. Love you,” I added, hating how rote it sounded. It felt kind of rote, too.

  He hung up without another word.

  Skylar was right. We are boring.

  But what could I do about it? The truth was, we both had things we wanted to do tonight more than we wanted to see each other, and that happened a lot these days.

  Oh well. I’d worry about that tomorrow. Tonight I’d just have some fun with an old friend.

  I sat there a minute longer, realizing that I hadn’t told Dan about Miles being at the coffee shop this morning when I’d arrived, or that he’d stayed half the day. I don’t know why I didn’t; it wasn’t as if anything had happened. We hadn’t kissed. We hadn’t even almost.

  It wasn’t on purpose. You just forgot to mention it, said a sweet little voice in my head.

  But deep down, I knew that wasn’t true.

  When I’d finished prepping food for the next day and closing up the shop, I sat at the counter again and called Miles. “Hi.”

  “Hey you.” He sounded sleepy.

  “Did I wake you?” I pictured him, hair tousled and chest bare, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand.

  What? What are you doing? Stop that—put some clothes on him this instant!

  “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat, “but I’m glad you called. I was just having a dream about you.”

  I slammed my eyes shut, my mind immediately taking off his pants.

  “We were at your shop, and I was eating a bagel.”

  “A bagel?” Relieved it wasn’t a sex dream, I smiled. “Don’t even have those here.” Wait, was there something sexual about a bagel?

  “Yes, a bagel, and you wanted to take my picture but you couldn’t find your camera. And then you turned into a bear.”

  I burst out laughing. “A bear? Seriously? Not even a bunny or a cat or something sweet and cute?”

  “Nope. A big old bear.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then you called me.”

  “I saved you from the bear that was myself.”

  “Yes.” He made a sound like he was stretching, and my mind drifted back into dangerous territory. “So what’s up?”

  “Well, I was going to go for a swim and then see if you wanted to meet.”

  “Oh yeah? Where do you swim?”

  “At the gym.”

  “Come over here and swim.”

  I hesitated. “At your house?”

  “Yeah. We have a pool here, remember? In which I repeatedly kicked your sorry state champ ass?”

  “Ha! You never!”

  “So you owe me another chance then. Come see if I’ve been practicing.”

  For a moment, I considered it. It would be fun, and the pool behind the Haas family’s home was beautiful. But it just didn’t feel right, going swimming alone with Miles at night. Other than the almost night, I had never been tempted to cheat on Dan, but there was some kind of spark between Miles and me that I worried could ignite if we were alone and close, especially the way I was feeling today. Better to avoid the situation entirely. “I don’t think so, Miles. I’ll just run over to the gym, get my laps done, and meet you later. OK?”

  “Scared I’ll be too tempting in my swim trunks?”

  I laughed. “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “I knew it. Plus there’s no water in the pool here yet.”

  “Miles! What were you going to do if I said yes and showed up in my bathing suit?”

  “Try to get you out of it.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “I’ll meet you at seven thirty. Jolly Pumpkin?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Miles was sitting at the bar when I entered the restaurant, a little late because I’d gone back and forth so many times about what to wear. I wanted
to look cute but casual, not too sexy but not too demure. Eventually I went with jeans and a sleeveless white top. Skylar probably would have added a necklace or something to look more trying-but-not-trying, but I didn’t have time to hunt for the perfect thing, not that I would recognize it. The colorful flowers inked on my upper arm were usually enough ornamentation for me anyway. I did wear the shiny gold sandals Jillian had given me for my birthday last month, but only because they were flat and I knew I could walk quickly in them.

  “Hi.” I slid onto the seat next to him, a little out of breath from rushing. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “You’re fine, I just got here.” He reached up and mussed my shoulder-length hair, which was still damp from the shower. “How was the swim?”

  “Good.” I set my bag near my feet. “How was your afternoon?”

  “Excellent. I napped a little more and then I took a run.”

  The bartender set a glass of beer down in front of Miles. “What can I get for you?” he asked me.

  “I’ll have the same.” I gestured to Miles’s drink.

  “A Bam Bière? You got it.”

  “Could we get the pulled pork nachos?” Miles asked, looking at the menu. “And the truffle french fries?”

  “Sure thing.” The bartender glanced at me. “Are you sharing? Or would you like something else?”

  “Um…” I glanced at Miles.

  “I’ll always share my pork with you, Natalie,” he said tenderly. “I’ll even let you pull it.”

  I sighed and looked at the bartender. “I’ll share with him.”

  “Is this new?” Miles ran his fingertips over my tattoo, and the way I felt the effects of his touch between my legs made me shift in my chair. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Not too new. I got it last year, when I turned twenty-five. A gift to myself.” I shrugged, trying to ignore the way my female parts were tingling. “I’d always wanted it and finally worked up the nerve.”

  “What were you nervous about? The pain?”

  I slugged his shoulder. “Come on, you know me better than that. I guess just the commitment. It is permanent, after all. Tattoos shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

  Miles raised his eyebrows. “Well, for being nervous, you didn’t hold back. How many sessions did that take?”

  “Several. I figured if I was gonna do it, I was gonna be all in.” I tilted my head. “I’m like that with a lot of things, actually.”

  “Does Dan like it?” He said it casually as he picked up his beer, but it sounded like a bit of a challenge. Should I admit Dan wasn’t crazy about tattoos and was a huge reason why I’d waited so long to get mine?

  “He does,” I said carefully. “He’s just not that into tattoos in general.”

  Miles nodded. “Think you’ll get another one?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. How about you?” Miles had gotten his first tattoo when he was eighteen, probably to spite his mother, but he’d added a fair amount of ink since. His left arm was pretty much covered. I wondered if he had anything on his chest or back and felt warmth bloom between my legs. So I crossed them. Tight.

  “Maybe. If I feel like it. Like you said, it’s a commitment.” He set his glass down. “Probably the only kind of commitment I will ever make.”

  I elbowed him. “Probably.”

  Over a couple beers apiece, the nachos, french fries, and later a wild mushroom pizza, we caught each other up on family news, laughed over childhood memories and some of the articles he’d written, and talked about our jobs, our workout regimens, and our plans for the summer. He told me about the book he was writing, and I gushed about the new house. It was as easy to be with Miles as it ever was, and we went back and forth between serious topics and joking around.

  What we didn’t talk about was Dan. It’s not like I was avoiding the subject, and I did mention his name once or twice, but Miles never asked me about him specifically, or about the relationship, nor did he offer any details about his own love life. But I was curious.

  “So are you dating anyone?” I picked up a third slice of pizza, swearing inwardly that it would be my last.

  He swallowed the bite he was chewing. “Define dating.”

  “Just the two of you. You pick her up or she picks you up or you meet somewhere, like a movie or a bar or a restaurant.”

  “Sounds OK so far,” he said hesitantly, furrowing his brow.

  I smiled. “And then you do this repeatedly, like several times a week.”

  “With the same person?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” He adjusted his glasses. “You lost me there.”

  I slapped his arm. I liked the shirt he was wearing—dark blue, short-sleeved, with a collar and white piping. It had a light blue chest pocket with a little penguin logo on it. I liked the way he smelled too. It was cologne, but it wasn’t overly powerful. Or maybe it was his hair product or something. He looked like the kind of guy who’d use it in the effort to look like he didn’t. “You’re terrible. Aren’t you worried you’re going to end up old and bald and alone someday?”

  “I think I’d look good bald, actually. I have a really nice shaped skull.” He took another bite of pizza.

  I shook my head. “What about a family? Don’t you ever want a wife and kids?” In light of how attractive I was finding him tonight, I thought it might be helpful to remind myself how different we were, how we didn’t want the same things in life. Not that I was putting any stock in the whole Madam Psuka thing, but just to reassure myself…because I was having a little too much fun, and he was looking a little too good to me. Sitting a little too close.

  “A wife and kids? My dad said those things are expensive,” he said with his mouth full. “And that whole loving someone completely and forever thing? I don’t think that’s for me. I’m too selfish. Doesn’t sound fun.”

  There. See? He’s selfish. All he wants to do is have fun. So just keep your pants on. I sighed dramatically, reaching for my beer. “Fine. I give up. Be alone forever.”

  He swallowed his bite. “Hey, you didn’t say you would be the wife. I might change my answer if that’s the case. Because your buns are amazing. And your muffin? Outstanding.”

  Setting my empty glass down, I looked at him with one brow cocked. “You’d marry a girl for her buns, huh?”

  He held up a hand. “Not all buns are worth matrimony, Natalie. Yours are.”

  I giggled, the two beers I’d had making me feel warm and tingly. “My buns aren’t available to you.”

  “I know this. Your buns have never been available to me. It’s really unfair.”

  “What is?”

  “Pretty soon your buns are going to be permanently off the market and I never got the opportunity to glaze them.”

  I held up a hand. “Please. You were very busy glazing other buns every summer we hung out. You did not look lonely. You still don’t, for that matter.”

  He placed his palm over his heart. “My loneliness is on the inside, Natalie. You can’t see it, but every morning I die a little, knowing your buns are on some other man’s plate.”

  “Oh my God.” Rolling my eyes, I gave him a punch on the shoulder. “Enough. Tell you what. You get a girlfriend, I’ll give her the recipe.”

  “I don’t want a girlfriend.”

  “Of course you don’t. So what do you want?”

  He looked at me, and a shivery feeling brushed up my spine unexpectedly.

  You.

  I swear to God, I thought he was going to say it, and my entire body seized up with panic. And want. And confusion. And need. But instead of answering the question, he picked up his beer and finished it. “I want another beer. You?”

  “Um, water for me please. Or I won’t be able to drive home.” Suddenly I was feeling a little dizzy. “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom.”

  My legs wobbled as I made my way to the ladies room. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I acting like this? I didn’t want Miles. I wanted Dan. D-A-N Da
n, right? I kept reminding myself of that as I used the bathroom, washed my hands, and stared hard at myself in the mirror over the sink. You are not a cheater.

  And I wasn’t. It’s not that I never found other people attractive, but as Skylar always joked, I got the monogamy gene. I enjoyed being in a relationship, and I’d never felt stifled by it.

  It’s just that Miles was doing something to me.

  I have to get out of here.

  As I walked back to the bar, a pretty female bartender was leaning over the bar chatting with Miles, and he was clearly turning on the charm, judging by the grin on her face. Jealousy kicked me in the gut. Not only of the way he was looking at her, but at her freedom to write her number on a coaster and slide it over to him. He’d call her, wouldn’t he? Anyone would. She had super long blonde hair and big breasts and a great smile. A Barbie doll. Maybe he’d even meet up with her tonight. Maybe they’d fuck at his parents’ house, in his old room. I’d slept in one of those beds once when we were seven or eight. Our one and only sleepover. Would he fuck her in my bed? And brag about how great it was tomorrow?

  I was irrationally angry by the time I got to my chair. Angry at him, angry at her, and angry at myself. I was even angry with Dan for going out with the guys tonight. Why didn’t he want me like he used to? Why was our relationship so boring? And why was I here flirting with Miles, envying the bartender he’d probably bang heartlessly later on? I didn’t want that. I wanted to be banged with heart! And I wanted it tonight.

  “There she is.” Miles turned to me. “I was just telling Jamie here about Coffee Darling. She’s new in town.”

  Jamie gave me a friendly smile, which made me feel even worse about hating her. “Can I get you anything besides water, hon?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Oh, come on.” Miles slung an arm around my neck, pulled me close and rubbed his knuckles on my head. “We don’t see each other enough, so you should get drunk with me. You don’t have to drive; I’ll drop you off. Or better yet, spend the night at my house. Give me one night to convince you to leave that asshole and run away with me.”