Chapter 20
Wade
“It’s going to sound so melodramatic, but so far as I can tell, my first affront was being born.”
“What?”
“He only married my mother because he had to. He didn’t know much about her, from what I understand, and they didn’t spend much time together before she was killed. And after, he—” She sits up and shrugs. “He traveled, and with the hours he worked, he mostly stayed in the city, so I didn’t see a lot of him.”
I’m afraid to ask. “Who took care of you?”
“Nannies, mostly. But later”—she smiles, meeting my eyes—“teachers.”
The kind of people who dedicate their careers to providing approval for a job well done. I’ve got a new understanding of why Harlow is so driven to excel. And it breaks my damn heart.
“How did you end up working at the bank?” Maybe her father saw it as a way to relate to her, at least initially.
“Ignorance?” She bites her lip. “Defiance? I’d been waiting to turn sixteen, thinking once I was old enough to work, I’d be able to get a job there. The bank was so important to him, you know? It was everything. So I asked him about it, and he told me there wasn’t a position.”
Fucking bastard.
“Our bank. One of the largest in the United States. But nothing available. I was at the top of my class. You’d think I’d have understood. He didn’t want me. But then, I had sixteen years of practice ignoring the obvious.”
I think about the way Harlow smiles when my mom pulls her in for a hug or how hard she laughed when my dad tried to show her how to throw a football, and it kills me to think that she never had that. That she was following after this man, practically pleading for his affection. And from the looks of it, she’s never gotten it.
But I want to know the rest. I want to understand her. “So how’d you end up working there?”
Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rests her cheek on her knees to look at me. “I figured if there wasn’t anything available, I’d make sure my name was on the list. I went to my father’s building and gave my name at the front desk, asking if there was anyone in HR I could speak to about filling out an application.”
“They recognized your name.”
A nod. “Next thing I knew, one of David’s predecessors was skittering out of the elevator to escort me upstairs so I could fill out an application. They probably thought it was adorable. I’m sure they had no idea that finding me that first position might have put their own jobs at risk.”
All she needed was a way in. So smart and driven. There would have been no stopping her. “How’d he take it when you told him the good news?”
“He just stared at me for a minute. Annoyed. But then he said, ‘Fine. Don’t expect any special treatment. You won’t get it.’”
“Nice guy.” I shake my head. “Is he like that with your brother?”
“Oh, no way. Junior’s the family he always wanted. He loves him. Loved Sandy—that’s Junior’s mother.” Then raising a brow at me, I see a glint of humor in her eyes. “She left him.”
Serves the guy right. “Yeah?”
“For Gordon LeMere.”
I choke, eyes bugging wide. “The hockey player?” The guy was at the peak of his career in the early nineties, but he retired before I laced up my first pair of skates.
And then it clicks.
“Holy shit, Good Girl. You were really, really pissed when he gave that job to your brother.”
This time the laugh she gives up is pure Harlow. I reach for her and, pulling her into my lap, kiss the shriek off her lips. “So you’ve been using me this whole time, huh? Revenge is best served on a hockey stick?”
And now I get why she’d been so sure her father wouldn’t like me. Why seats to my game weren’t going to get her anywhere.
“I wasn’t planning to serve it at all. Knowing how much he’d hate it was enough.” Her arms link around my neck. “It was supposed to be a quiet, understated rebellion.”
“And then you woke up with a hangover from hell.”
“And you fast-talked me into coming with you anyway.” Her fingers sift into my hair. “Thank you, Wade.”
With Harlow in my arms like this, peering up at me with those big soulful sweet eyes, I’m the one who’s thankful. But not to her douche father, even if he’s the reason she said yes.
“I gotta ask. What are you doing working for him? You’re so damn smart, driven. You could do anything you wanted. Anywhere.”
The way she deflates in my arms makes me wish I could take it back, but I don’t get it. Anyone else would want her. Value her.
“I guess I keep hoping that one of these days I’ll have the chance to prove myself. And maybe if he can see what I’m capable of, he’ll realize he’s been missing out. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but he and Junior, as much of a troll as he is, are the only family I have. My mother’s parents were dead before she left for school. There aren’t any relatives.” She takes a shaky breath. “The closest thing to a family I have is the bank. I’ve put everything I am into it… and I’m not ready to walk away.”
Harlow
We spend the next two days running errands for the wedding, hopping from house to house and helping out wherever we can. I’ve made cookies with Grace and filled mesh bags of birdseed with Janie’s sisters while Wade worked with Walt and the guys, getting the space at the farm ready for the wedding and reception.
And around the myriad pre-wedding tasks, Wade keeps finding ways to get me alone. To pull me into his arms and tease me into the kind of breathless laughter I’ve never known.
It feels so good to be with him. So good to be a part of something. So good, that every time I think about what’s on the other side of Sunday… I just can’t.
I don’t want to waste a minute thinking about anything but how right everything feels now.
Hearing the thud of Wade’s truck in the drive, my heart skips and a hundred butterflies erupt into flight in my belly.
Grace pats my hand at her kitchen table where she’s been showing me the album from her wedding. “Go say hi, honey. I’m going to put these away.”
I’m out of my seat in a too-eager, too-obvious blink. “Be right back.”
She chuckles, waving me away. “Sure you will.”
Heat fills my cheeks as I push through the front door, this insane sense of urgency in my chest that’s begging me to move faster, get closer.
Wade’s halfway to the house. He looks up, our eyes meet, and he drops his bags as I fling myself into his arms. Laugh at the utter relief of having my body flush against his, the dizzying joy of him spinning me around, and the light in his eyes as he carries me back to the truck—to the far side of the truck—and kisses the life out of me. Gives me his tongue in slow, measured thrusts. Bunches my hair in his fists, pulling just enough to remind me of the night before.
The screen door closes at the house. “Don’t mind me,” comes Grace’s singsong voice, full of amusement. “Gonna bring this ice cream inside real quick.”
Wade presses a last kiss to my lips, then calls over the roof of the car, “Thanks, Mom. Be right there.”
My fingers run over the planes of his face, down the thick column of his neck, stilling over his chest. “One more minute,” I whisper.
Those blue eyes search mine. “Long as you want, Good Girl.”
We stay for dinner with the Gradys. Walt is flying solo tonight as Janie is having a final fitting and then dinner with her family. We’re out on the back patio, done eating, the bottle of wine Wade brought empty, but no one is in a rush to get up.
It’s quiet and comfortable. And even with Kelsey ignoring me from across the table, it’s the sort of evening a girl could get used to.
Grace smiles between her son and me. “We’ve been so caught up in the plans for Janie and Walt this week, I just realized I haven’t heard how the two of you met.”
Bill leans over the table, a wide smile on his face. “
Come on, let’s hear it. I’m thinking this guy threw some smooth line your way and had a date on the books before you knew what hit you.”
It’s pretty adorable the way this man thinks his sons can do no wrong. Or who knows, maybe they can’t, and what I really love is that he sees it.
Walt snorts, the imp in his eyes firing up. “Yeah, did he take you out to the malt shop and steal a lick off your sundae?”
I choke a bit on my water, laughing at how dirty these Grady boys are. But then an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Grace wants to know how we met and I don’t want to lie to Wade’s family anymore. But telling the truth isn’t an option.
I open my mouth, ready to stick with the story, when Wade cuts in. “Ha, I wish. Hate to let you down, but Harlow doesn’t actually remember the first time we met.”
Brows go up around the table and, caught off guard, I turn to my date and gape. “What? I remember.” Sure, the details were a little… blurry.
Wade presses a finger to my mouth and his mom claps. Everyone leans forward except Kelsey, who sits stone still.
With the room’s attention, he starts again. “I’d been over at the bank for an appointment and after, I’m taking the elevator down. On one of the floors, this gorgeous girl steps in beside me, pretty nose buried so far in some report, she doesn’t even notice when I throw not one, not two, but three solid lines her way.”
I’m not breathing. There’s no way it’s true. I don’t know why he’d make it up, unless he wants to give us a more romantic story than the one we have.
“Totally shuts me down.”
At which point Walt rocks back in his chair, fists pumping air. “Yes! Harlow, you are my favorite.”
“Did you not hear him?” Kelsey snaps, and Grace gives her a worried glance.
Wade doesn’t stop. “So I tap her arm and ask what time it is, thinking she’ll look up. Our eyes will meet. She’ll fall under the spell of my smile and charm, and I’ll be eating her sundae before the night’s through.”
“Wade!” I laugh.
“She checks her watch, like on her actual wrist.” He holds up my arm to show off the slender band. “Mutters the time to me and then breaks a speed-walking record leaving the elevator.”
I turn to him. “I had no idea.”
His eyes are gleaming. “My ego begged me not to recount his brush with death.”
“I should have looked,” I say quietly.
“Ehh, the timing wasn’t right. But it all worked out.” Then back to the table, “A few months later she shows up in this club where I’m hanging out with Boomer, Axe, and Bowie. FYI, she still wasn’t into me. Was sure her dad wouldn’t like me.”
Grace clucks her tongue. “Everyone likes you, honey.”
But Walt raises a brow. “This why there isn’t a single picture of you two on social?”
Wade shrugs, not exactly confirming or denying before he goes on. “Didn’t think jocks were her type.”
And whoa, talk about a bombshell.
His parents gasp, for real, which makes me laugh even harder as I hold up my hands. “I swear, I’ve since reconsidered!”
Kelsey straightens, her smile stiff. “You’re not into sports?” She shakes her head. “How is that going to work? Wade’s whole life is about sports. He’s a professional athlete. And when he’s done in the NHL, he’s moving back here to coach our Tigers hockey team.”
I turn to Wade, surprised. “Really, you want to coach like your dad?”
But he’s sort of wagging his head noncommittally. “I don’t know. I used to think so, but who knows.” He smiles at me. “It’s a long ways off and a lot can change.”
Kelsey looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm, but I’m still thinking about Wade as a coach. He’d be amazing with kids.
Taking my hand, he brings it up to his mouth for a kiss. Rubs his thumb over the knuckles in a soft stroke. “Back to my story. I needed a date for some event and finally talked her into it. And FYI, I’m totally her type. It just took some convincing.”
My heart melts. Because Wade just gave his parents the truth of how our relationship began so I wouldn’t have to lie to his family.
Chapter 21
Wade
I don’t know what it is, but something’s changed between us. I saw it in Harlow’s smile when I got back to the house today. Felt it in the clutch of her hands on my chest when she wanted that minute more.
And tonight, it’s in the kiss she gives me when we get to the truck. It’s slow and sweet. Lingering. And when her eyes come up and meet mine—yeah, something’s changed.
We don’t spill into the hotel room, tearing at each other’s clothes like we can’t waste a second of the precious time we’ve got left. We walk in together, fingers tangled in a loose hold. I sit in the wingback chair by the window and pull Harlow onto my lap.
“I didn’t know about the elevator,” she says, playing with my knuckles.
“It was epic.”
“It’s sad.” She shakes her head. “Wade, you were right there, and I missed you. I didn’t even notice. Why? Because of some regulatory report? Because I was killing myself for a job I didn’t even get?”
“Harlow,” I start, but when her eyes come up to meet mine, they’re brimming with tears. They gut me, have my heart beating harder as I hold her close. “Don’t cry.”
“I don’t want to miss any more.”
I slip a hand around her neck and draw her in for a kiss. Then, holding her in my arms, I cross to the bed where we lie down together. Fully dressed, shoes off.
“Okay, Good Girl. No more missing out.” She nestles closer, peering up at me from my shoulder. “Tell me. What’s the first thing we’re going to do when we get back to Chicago?”
Jesus, those eyes. That look.
I know what I want it to mean. I know how I feel.
It’s too soon. But there’s no rush.
Finding my voice, I tease, “But keep it on this side of the law. I like to keep my nose clean.”
Wade
It’s still dark. Harlow’s legs are entwined with mine, her body tucked close.
We’re both early risers, but this seems—
I hear it then. The repetitive vibration of her phone from where it’s charging beside the bed.
“Good Girl,” I murmur, hating to wake her, but I know she’s got her phone on Do Not Disturb, which means whoever is calling at 4:37 a.m. must be important. “Your phone’s ringing.”
She lifts her head, sleepy and adorable. Confused.
“Harlow. Your phone.”
Her eyes clear, and she fumbles for the phone, almost knocking a lamp over in the process. But then she’s got it. I can’t see the screen, but the voice booming through the line can only be one man.
And I hate him.
“Harlow, Junior totaled his car.”
“Is—is he okay?” She staggers from the bed, her voice stricken.
I slip out the other side, flipping the light on and coming around to rest my hand at her back.
I’m already making plans in my head. I’ll pack while she gets the details. Drive her back today. Be back for the wedding tomorrow, depending—
“He’s in the hospital.” Irritation snaps through the line. “Says the drugs were the girl’s. Escort. Press got to her before we could and—” He sighs. “Going to be a damn mess to clean up this time.”
Harlow stares at the phone like she doesn’t know what to say. And yeah, it’s a lot to unpack. “He’s in the hospital? God, how bad was he hurt? Does… Sandy know?”
There’s a beat of cold silence and she physically winces from it. I’m about to take that fucking phone myself when he answers. “Sprained wrist. Some bruises. He’s my son. He’ll be fine. But I’ve decided he’ll go to rehab.”
Her breath comes out in a rush, and she nods. They aren’t close, but this is the only family she has.
“I’m glad it wasn’t more serious. But maybe rehab will be a good thing for him.
”
“It’s the best place to park him until this blows over.”
Harlow’s eyes cut to mine and she mouths an apology. I shake my head and hold her hand. Then, giving her the most reassuring smile I’ve got, I mouth the word “coffee” and point at the door.
Gratitude fills her eyes and she sits down at the desk, picking up the pen and notepad. “What can I do?”
I stuff my legs into my jeans and pull on a shirt. Grab my wallet.
A throat clears from across the miles. “Obviously, this changes things. In the short term, we’ll have to distance Junior from PHR. Be at the office at eight.”
“What?” she chokes out, and I stop halfway out the door.
But instead of turning to me, she turns farther away, her shoulders hunching forward.
Privacy. Damn it, I don’t want to leave. If she’d turned toward me, I’d be back at her side. But that’s not what she needs right now. So I close the door behind me. The last thing I hear is her asshole father saying the words Harlow’s been waiting her whole life to hear.
“You want to prove yourself? Here’s your chance.”
I make it to the truck before giving in to the string of expletives clawing at my throat.
This thing between us is too new to compete with the approval of the douchebag who’s been neglecting her, her whole life. We’ve barely begun and I’m going to lose her.
I drive to the gas station and fill up the truck. Clean the windows and check the tires, telling myself not to be a dick by trying to talk her out of going back. Not to remind her of all the shabby shit her father has put her through, when for what sounds like the first time in her life, he’s giving her the credit she deserves.
DIRTY TALKER Page 14