The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2) (24 page)

“I kept the key, didn’t I?” I pointed to it by my Kindle.

“Just eat. We’ll discuss it more, if we need to, later.” He squeezed my thigh and stood up.

“Where are you going?” I noticed he was in jeans and a dark shirt.

“I’m going to take a stroll on the deck. I figured you needed some time alone. I know us cooped up together might be driving you a bit batty. So, I thought I give you some time to eat, take a long shower, and do,” he waved his hand in the air, “Whatever you do when you’re alone.”

“Usually, I masturbate.” I hid my smile behind the bottle of water.

“Honey-Bunny, you’re going to kill me.” He shook his head, heading toward the door.

“Death by hard-on,” I giggled. “Not a bad way to go.”

“I’ll be back,” he announced, still chuckling, and shut the door.

Normally, I wouldn’t take a guy’s advice, but Keaton’s idea was perfect.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Keaton

The night air was crisp and dark as the clouds covered the moon and stars and the wind whipped around me. My heart was beating faster the more I thought about my day. Hell, even since last night.

I watched Harlow sleep most of the time: Her auburn hair spread out on the pillow, her long lashes fanned across her cheek and her plum pink lips parted. Awake, asleep, angry, it didn’t matter; her beauty always shined through.

There seemed to be a lot of couples walking the deck tonight. Apparently, love was thick in the air. I continued to stroll around, thinking about Harlow.

Honey-Bunny.

We were back together and my life was complete again. I wouldn’t screw this up. Harlow meant the world to me. In fact, she was my world. And she was right to say I’d turned into Emily Dickinson.

I wished there were some way I could show her more. The key had been a good start, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

Maybe I can give her the moon?

I shook loose the ridiculous thought and wished Grams could give advice. That was as crazy as the moon idea. Apparently, since I have Harlow back, my brain has lost the ability to think straight.

It’s worth it.

For the first time, I pictured myself in the future with someone. Usually, when I looked far ahead it was more about my PHL career or opening a publishing house, but there hadn’t been anyone.

Now…

“Keaton.”

I whipped around to see my honey-bunny. Her hair was still damp and in a ponytail. She had on jeans and a light colored t-shirt. She looked thirty instead of forty, but I didn’t care; she was mine.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I reached for her, pulling her into my arms.

“Good. I thought I’d join you for some fresh air.” She rested against my chest. “Sorry we didn’t do anything today in port.”

“I’d much rather do what we did today than sightsee.”

“Wow, someone’s glowing.”

I chuckled. “Yes, I am.”

“Me too.”

I felt her shiver. “Come on, let’s get you back to the room. I can feel you’re cold.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. Even though I wanted to toss her on the bed and have my way with her body, I’d wait until she made the first move.

I can’t screw this up.

I opened the door to our cabin and let her walk in first. Okay, I wanted to stare at her fabulous ass. My cock twitched, and I tried to control myself.

I shut the door and turned around; Harlow was staring at me. I saw the lust in her eyes, but I made no move toward her.

“I remember everything about last night.” She took a step to me. “I clearly remember having you in my mouth.”

My heart stopped when she fell to her knees. I rested against the door as she undid my jeans and pulled me out.

“Fuck,” I hissed when she put me in her hot mouth.

Every girl I’ve been with has their own technique when giving blow gobs, but Harlow has mastered the suck and stroke down to a science. If she kept it up, there would be no way I’d last long.

“Harlow you’ve…stop.” I couldn’t form a sentence. I looked down at her working me, and my balls tightened. Her loving blue eyes were locked tight on mine. “Stop,” I whispered but rocked harder in her mouth.

After three more precision strokes, I grunted, exploding into her mouth, and she sucked me dry, swallowing it all down.

“Fuck.” I breathed out again, hoping my legs didn’t give out on me.

“You can consider that my
welcome back into my life
gift.” She rose from her knees.

“Harlow, I love you.” I cupped her cheeks. “I do love you, and I don’t ever want to lose you again.” I saw tears filling her eyes.

“Then I expect chocolates every day.”

“Deal.” I kissed her hard on the mouth leading her back to the bed. Ready to start my life with her.

Sex. Sightseeing. Food. Drink. Sleep. Shower. Sex. Sightseeing. Food. Drink. Sleep. Shower.

Sex. Sightseeing. Food. Drink. Sleep. Shower. Sex. Sightseeing. Food. Drink. Sleep. Shower.

For the next four days, it was all Harlow and I did, and I loved every moment of it. We talked a lot, about our pasts, future, goals, and dreams. No topic was untouched in our time together. I told her every part of me. The hurt I felt because my parents, the love from Grams, and how much I owed her. The soul-stabbing pain from losing her and why I couldn’t express myself because of it. Hell, I even cried a couple time, but the weight I carried seemed to be lifted, and I almost felt free.

Harlow told me all about herself. Her childhood, spending time in the library picturing all the places she would be traveling to. Her love of reading and dislike of classics novels, except for the
Pride and Prejudice
I’d sent her. Her passion became editing, a career path she never thought she’d take, but didn’t regret a day of it. Her job with the publishing company also seemed to be taking off, and elation was written all over her face.

We laughed a lot, smiled more, and even though she hadn’t said what would happen when we got home, I had her now, would it remain?

We landed in Boston late Sunday night, and we decided to drive back to Manchester then instead of waiting for morning. I wanted to go home to her place, but waited to ask her when we pulled into her driveway.

“You should just stay here tonight; it’ll be easier for us to return in the car.”

“Okay.” I hopped out and grabbed our suitcases.

I took everything up to her bedroom and saw her flop on the bed.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” She happily moaned rolling side-to-side.

“Happy, honey-bunny?” I chuckled watching her on the bed.

“There’s nothing like your own bed.”

“Agreed.” I lay next to her, and she snuggled up to me. “I don’t want to move right now, even though I’m dying to have sex with you again.”

She laughed softly. “I’m turned on too. Let’s just sleep tonight, and you can take care of our needs when the sun comes up.” She tucked herself closer to my side, and I closed my eyes, basking in the warmth of her body against mine.

I woke up alone and a little disoriented. It almost felt like I was still on the ship, but I remembered coming home to Harlow’s house. With the room still dark, I felt around the bed, but she wasn’t next me. I sat up and heard faint tapping from down the hall.

And she thinks I’m the only workaholic.

I rolled off the bed and padded toward the office. There she sat, behind her desk, with her auburn hair tossed up in a messy ponytail. Even without a sweep of makeup on, she could stop traffic and my heart.

“Jet lag?”

She looked up from her monitor. “Sort of. What about you?”

“Missing you.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Smooth, puppy.” She finished typing and then focused on me. Studying her face, something felt off. It seemed as if she wanted to say something, but remained quiet.

“What is it?”

“Thinking.” She shrugged.

I was concerned now. Harlow didn’t shy away from anyone. I pushed off the frame and placed myself in front of her. “Tell me. Please.”

“We’re back to reality.” Her tone was sad.

“So, this is a bad thing?”

“Not bad, just…nervous.”

“About?” I couldn’t imagine what she would be nervous about. We’d worked out everything.

“Us. Our future. And trust me when I say I know I’m beating a dead horse here.” She stood up from her desk chair and walked around her desk in front of me. “I’m giving you my heart, and I don’t want us to fall back into the past because we’re home and not in a different country.”

“Harlow, I promised you. I swear on,” I paused, trying to think of my most prized possession, “My dick.”

“What?” she giggled.

“I swear on my dick. You know how much I love him. If I hurt you like that again, you can cut it off.” I winced, thinking of the pain and almost grabbing myself to protect him from the words I’d said.

Harlow laughed. “I won’t cut it off, but thanks for the reassurance.”

“Honey-Bunny.” I wrapped my arms around her and she smiled. “I know how much of a realist you are, and you’ll need a lot of confirmation that I won’t take off again, but I promise I’m here for the long haul.”

Her blue eyes beamed. “I’m glad. Even though it’s killing you to be out of school and not working on another project.”

“You’re not wrong.” I had actually thought about another book, but hadn’t started anything yet. I have been antsy to get back to my busy life. But my focus had been getting Harlow back into my life. “Just trust me; we’re going to be fine.”

She gazed deep into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. She finally said, “You’re right.” Harlow pulled me to her lips giving me a gentle kiss.

I knew then we would be fine.

My legs hurt from the skating. I’ve not been on the ice in forever, and right now, Kyson and Remington were kicking my ass.

“You suck, Jaco.” Kyson pushed on my shoulder as we head to the locker room.

“Damn, I thought all the sex Harlow and I’ve had would be considered a workout, but shit, I’m exhausted,” I joked, taking off my pads and skates.

“I say we grab some grub,” Remington suggested and we all agreed.

Kyson chatted in the car as we drove to the diner about Meadow and him heading off to some tropical island. He seemed pretty happy about it.

When we found a booth, Remington started in about his daughter and Maxima. “It’s going so great. They get along perfectly, and Arabella is fitting in well in her school, even though she’ll have to go to summer classes, since I took her out of her old one.” He sounded a little sad at the end.

“But she’s happy and that matters most,” I reassured him.

We ordered our food and discussed our upcoming season. The hurt over the loss in the playoffs still stung. Trade talks swirled around Teo Elgin, our goalie, but nothing concrete had come of it.

As we talked, Kyson nudged my arm. “Is that Coach?”

Remington and I looked toward the door. It was Coach Long, but it looked like he’d been in some sort of accident. He came closer to us, and I called out to him. “Coach?” I held up my hand.