The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2) (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

Harlow

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done this. My day started with a back massage, then a facial, and as that finished, my pedicure started.

Spa day equals perfection.

As I laid my head back, I relished in the relaxation taking over me. The only reason I could even take a day off was thanks to Dacey. The girl was a dream with an Irish accent.

With my eyes closed, my thought skimmed over many subjects, but stopped right on Keaton. A whole week has passed since we’d had sex. Of course, he had been gone with his hockey games. The time alone did make me miss him a bit. However, the truth was I missed his dick as much as him. He hadn’t really talked to me, minus his grunts and growls of sex.

I considered him a friend, and I wished him well. We’ve spoken about his parents and even though I joked with him about college, I’d help in any way I could. Not to mention his book. I wanted to see him publish his work and make his dreams come true.

And damn, I wanted his dick again.

“I hate this fucking holiday. And you know what else, it’s dumb.”

Maxima smiled. “All I asked was if you were doing anything for Valentine’s Day.”

“And I just informed you.” I stepped off the treadmill at the gym and made my way to the locker room. “What are you doing?”

“Now?” Maxima asked confused. “I’m getting ready to change.”

I shook my head. I wondered how this girl could be so smart and such a ditz at the same time. “What are you doing Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh,” her face turned as red as the paint on a fire truck. “Um…Remington and I are supposed to do something.”

I stopped what I was going and pulled her down to the bench. “Tell. Me. Everything.”

Maxima shrugged. “He asked, and I said yes.”

“You’re so lying to me right now. I want the whole truth.”

She glanced all around the locker room to avoid my eyes. “He and I have been chatting a bit. Mainly, it was about money and finances, but we’ve talked and well…” she trailed off.

“Is this something serious?” I was intrigued, wanted to know more, and I couldn’t wait to force her to tell me.

“We’re friends.”

“But…” I waved her on to tell me more.

She stared at me. “But what?”

“Do you want more?”

“He’s a friend.” Her face reddened again, and she tugged at the cuff of her over-sized sweatshirt.

I gave up on pushing anymore. I really liked Maxima, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I knew she had no family, and I wasn’t convinced she had any other friends, but Meadow and me.

Giving her a gentle squeeze of her hands, I smiled. “Well, he better treat you right, or I’ll shove his hockey stick up his ass and break it off.”

Maxima turned from red to pale. “Harlow, you don’t need to resort to such violence.”

“Let him hurt you and I’ll show you violence.”

Valentine’s Day sucked when you were single. However, there was a plus side to those of us who enjoyed being single.

I walked into a local bar, not too far from my house. The overly decorated room had hearts, balloons, streamers, and fake flowers, but all I cared for was the single men seeking out the lonely, desperate women.

Little did they know I was a wolf to their sheep.

I took a seat at the bar and ordered a white wine. I searched the bar, seeking out the one I planned to torture. Sure, I could’ve called Keaton and told him to come over, but on this day I was sure he would get the wrong impression. I didn’t want him to think I had any similarities to the females I observed at the bar.

Even if there were some, I’d never admit to it.

“Well, hello.”

I glanced up at an older man, staring down my shirt.
Jerk.
“Hello.”

“You seem to be lonely?” He finally looked up to my eyes. He had to be a few years older than me, slightly graying, with dark eyes, and a goatee.

“Not really. I have my wine to keep my company.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure I’m better than a glass of wine.”

I allowed my eyes to very blatantly wander over his body. “Maybe.”

“Gregory.” He held out his hand.

“Harlow.” I took it gently in mine.

Gregory waved down the bartender and ordered himself another beer.

“So, Harlow, what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone on the holiday of love?”

“I told you I’m not alone. Wine and I have a serious long-term relationship.”

“Do you ever cheat on wine?” He narrowed his eyes in a flirtatious manner, and I knew where this conversation had gone and quickly.

“I’ve been known to have a wandering eye from time-to-time.” I winked, lifting my glass to my lips.

“I like it when girls are open to anything.” He grinned.

I hadn’t expected him to say that. “I’m not sure I said I was open to everything.”

“So, you don’t like to be spanked and yell out daddy?”

What the fuck?
I was momentarily stunned.

“Dude, this is a lady you’re speaking to, and she’s the type to spank you till you call her mommy.”

I whipped around so fast I became unbalanced on the bar stool. “Keaton?”

“Go away.” Keaton shooed Gregory away, and he quickly left.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? No, thank you.” He kissed my cheek and then leaned against the bar.

“I had it handled.”

Keaton smiled. “You appeared to be a deer looking into headlights.”

“Did not,” I mumbled before taking another drink.

“It’s okay, honey-bunny, I saved you,” he joked.

“Ass.”

This time he laughed. I loved seeing the brightness in his face when he did.

“You didn’t tell me why you were here.”

Keaton waved his hand around nonchalantly. “I’m here for the décor.”

I giggled. “Another lie, puppy?”

“You got me. Actually, I was heading to your place, but I stopped here to grab a beer.”

“My place? Why?” I did want him to come over, but tried not to be excited about it.

“Needed someone to talk to.” His faced turned sad.

I rubbed his bicep. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ease up on the cryptic answers. Just spit it out.”

Keaton motioned for the bartender and ordered another round for us. “Okay, you win.”

“Tell me.” I downed the rest of my wine as the next round appeared. Keaton’s serious expression made me realize he truly needed a friend, whatever he wanted to talk about. I’d be there for him.

“Felicia moved in with Grams this week.”

“Wow.” I felt my eyes grow wide. “What are you going to do?”

Keaton stifled a laugh. “You don’t know Grams. When I told her what to do she almost turned me into Van Gogh.”

“Huh?”

“She jerked on my ear so hard, she damn near ripped it off.”

The laugh bubbled up quickly. I saw how short Grams was compared to Keaton, but in my mind, I could clearly see her yanking on him.

“She’s a tough old bird.”

“But you still worry about her.” I touched his forearm this time.

“Especially, now. Felicia is going to work Grams over until she’s either a) broke or b) dead.”

“Keaton.” I slightly winced at the word
dead
. “Is she that horrible?” I knew I’d only seen her that one time, but she was his mother.

He nodded. “And then some.”

“I know she left you, but why does Gram help her?”

“Felicia uses her kindness to her advantage. I can see her cleaning Grams out of everything.”

“You said that already. What does Grams say?”

“She’s family,” he took a deep breath. “It’s what she always says.”

“But you don’t feel that way?”

He shook his head.

“You don’t think of her as family at all?”

He shook his head again. “Grams told me she’s changed.”

“And you don’t believe she’s changed?”

“Absolutely not. She’s a junkie, drunk, and a con artist. Nothing else.”

“People do change,” I reminded him.

“Not her.” He took a long swig of beer and stared ahead.

“Do you trust your grandmother?” I tried a different approach that might work on him.

“I trust her with my life.”

“And she wouldn’t lie to you, right?”

“No, not per se.”

“Then if she told you your mother changed, why not believe her? Has she said it in the past?”

Keaton picked at the label on his dark brown bottle. “Usually, she would say Felicia was sick and not much else.”

“Now, she’s singing a different tune. She’s telling you she’s
changed
and not saying
sick
.” I hoped he could see where I was going with this conversation. I knew his smarts would put the hints together.

“I get it, but I don’t believe or trust it. You say a person can change, but can’t they change back to their old ways?”

“Sure, anything can happen, but you’re not even giving it a chance.”

“You don’t seem to understand how many times she’s hurt me.”

The number had to be huge, just by the expression on his face and the tone in his voice. He finished his beer and turned fully to me. “I’m ready to take you home.”

“I’m assuming we’re done talking then?”

“Yes.” I saw the familiar lust in his eyes.

“Hate to tell you but I can’t tonight.”

“What? Why?” He seemed flabbergasted at me saying no to him.

“I’m on my period.” I told him the truth.

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“Eewww,” I exclaimed loudly. “Well, it sure as hell bothers me.”

Keaton chucked. “Then explain to me why you’re in a bar picking up guys?”

I smiled. “I’m having a glass of wine
messing
with guys.”

“Seems a bit cold-hearted.”

My brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“I’m saying, you’re a hot piece of ass, and you’re going to work them up, only to shoot them down. That’s cold-hearted.”

“Hey,” I chided. “It would have been harmless flirting and nothing more. I’m not that big of a bitch.” Sure, I had my moments, but I really only planned on flirting with whomever approached me.

“I never said you were a bitch. You’re far from being one. I know you are a strong, opinionated woman, and I love that about you.”

My girly side suddenly took notice at one word:
love
. Did he just say
love
? “Well, thanks,” I rushed out, not wanting him to know I was over-thinking what he said. A lot. “I’m going home, now. Alone.” I hopped off the stool and out toward the door. I knew Keaton was right behind me.