Trick (21 page)

“Okay.” I nod, still feeling a little worried and suddenly very small and insignificant.

Gunner brushes his thumb across my lower lip. “Don’t give me that ‘okay’ business. This is exciting news, Harlow. So damn exciting we should go celebrate.”

“I don’t feel like going out,” I say.

“Oh, I didn’t mean we were going out.” He scoops me up into his arms and starts up the stairs, two at a time.

“Wait! We didn’t even have any ice cream yet!” I say, giggling and loving the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me.

“I’ll bring you some in bed,” he says, flopping me onto mattress, and raising a single eyebrow. “After you’ve earned it.”

CHAPTER 16
GUNNER

I load the last of the equipment onto the back of the truck and take the check from a man who thanks me quietly and pulls away. I head back to the porch, which is technically mine, but still feels like Daniels’. Maybe because he’s sitting there, a glass of hard iced tea in his hands.

“Thank you for helping with that, Gunner.” He’s got a shell-shocked look on his face that I hate.

“No worries. I’m glad I could help.”

I sit on the rocker next to him and look at the barn. From the outside, it looks exactly like it did half an hour ago, but we both know it’s stripped empty inside. Daniels had left all the equipment in it, and I didn’t give a damn if he never moved it. Selling his livestock had been hard enough on him, and I figured he needed a breather before he got rid of the rest of the equipment that had defined his life for decades.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a hankering to farm.” He takes a long sip of the cool drink, wincing over the kickback. “And not sorry. It’s a tough business these days. And your girl, she’s a beauty, but she’s headed for the big city, isn’t she? No farmer’s life for her.”

“No, sir.” I shake my head. “Harlow is going right to the top.” I down most of my drink in one long gulp. I’ve avoided out and out slovenly drunkenness while she’s been gone, but it hasn’t been easy. I miss her like my heart’s been cut out.

“And you? Are you still hell bent on staying at the bottom?” He turns to look at me, his old eyes bleary, and his voice hard as granite.

“No, sir.” I laugh and run a hand over my hair. “I’m slow, so you gotta forgive me that. I’m figuring it out though.”

“Let me tell you a story,” Daniels says. “My wife, good Lord, she was a looker. So beautiful. The first year we met, I took my damn time, cause I was a cocky fool just like you. Got to Valentine’s, and I didn’t do much planning. Well, she’d been working at a little shop in town, and a fella asked her to dinner. Now, she was my girl in my mind, but I’d never made it real official. So she calls me on the phone and says, ‘Monty, I’ve had a gentleman ask me on a date on Valentine’s. I expect you’d be taking me out, too. Would you like the lunch slot or the dinner slot? I’m asking you first out of courtesy.’”

I laugh because I’m trying to imagine Mrs. Daniels as a saucy young chick telling Mr. Daniels what was up.

“So what did you do?” I ask.

“Hell, what could I do? I wasn’t gonna let that sweet thing get swept up. I told her I wanted lunch, begged my mama to fix me a picnic basket, put on my best suit, and stopped at the jeweler’s with every cent I had saved. I got on one damn knee, she said yes, and I told her she’d best cancel her dinner date, seeing as she was an engaged woman.” He chuckles and sips his drink.

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.