Chapter 15
HARLOW
“That was incredible,” I say, licking the last bit of frosting from my fingers. “I’ve been so stressed the last few weeks, I don’t remember the last time I had a real meal. Thank you.”
“Good, I’m glad,” Gunner says. He leans back in his chair and pulls his eyebrows in. The two actions, one relaxed, one contemplative, are totally contradictory.
I get still suddenly, sensing something isn’t right. “What’s going on?”
“We need to talk, Harlow,” he says. He tips his chair back toward the table, the legs hitting the floor with a thud.
My palms start to sweat. “Talk? Talk about what?”
“Don’t look so scared, baby. It’s a good talk,” Gunner says. He flashes me what I think he hopes is a convincing smile. Too bad I know Gunner, inside and out, and that smile is forced. He sees my doubt, reaches across the table and clutches my hand. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Of course. I love you, too, baby.” I pull my hands back and ball them under my chin. “Please don’t make me guess, cause I’m coming up with some scary stuff in my head right now. Gunner, what’s going on?”
Gunner sucks in a deep breath, then exhales slowly. Dragging out the seconds as long as possible. Torturing me.
“You know my brother, Greyson—”
“The a*shole?”
Gunner lets out a low, sexy chuckle. “Kitten, my family is full of a*shole dirtbags, and Greyson is no exception. But he was able to help me out with something pretty amazing.”
“Uh huh,” I say, cautiously.
“He used to date this girl, Cassie for a while. They were on-again-off-again—”
“Seems to be a trend with you Hunt boys,” I smirk.
“Ha ha. Anyway, she had major daddy issues, and Greyson has major issues not f*cking around on his women, so they finally called it quits. But not before Cassie moved to Chicago and they did the long distance thing for a while—”
He never talks this much, and I hate to interrupt him. I usually love hearing even the smallest details about his life. But this is killing me. “Gunner, please, I’m begging you. Where are you going with this?”
“I’m getting there. It’s just a little backstory is going to help when I get to the point. On one of Greyson’s trips over there, he met Cassie’s new roommate, Kayla, who is a dancer,” Gunner says.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Not nearly as talented, or even close to as beautiful as you, though, kitten. Greyson is a sucker for a dancer's legs—that must run in the family, too.” Gunner smirks, and reaches under the table to pull one of my legs onto his lap. He runs his rough hand up the length of it, and I feel myself relax under his touch. “So, anyway, he started fooling around with Kayla.”
“How romantic.” I dip a finger in the last bit of Hummingbird Cake on my plate and love the way his eyes follow it to my mouth.
He swallows hard and shakes his head as I suck the frosting off slowly. “Only one dancer for me, baby. And even after he and Cassie ended things for good, he kept in touch with Kayla. Every time he’s back in Chicago, he spends time with her.”
“What exactly brings him to Chicago regularly?”
“His work,” Gunner says.
“On the rig?”
Gunner shakes his head. “His other job.”
“Which is?”
His hand creeps higher up my thigh. “It’s probably better you don’t know, kitten.”
I sigh. I’ll probably know more about the girls Gunner’s brothers have slept with and the guys they’ve fought than I’ll ever know about things like where they work or what they do with their spare time. “Fine. But wrap this story up, I’m ready for you to take me back to bed.”
“Kayla is a member of a touring Broadway company.”
“Wow, that’s impressive,” I say, trying to hide my snip of jealousy.
Gunner nods. “Not only that, she’s...friendly with the casting director. And she can’t guarantee you a spot, Harlow, but she arranged for you to audition for him.”
My jaw goes slack. I sit up straight in my chair, then sit back. Then I sit up again and grab Gunner’s hand, finally managing to scream in hope and confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
“An audition in New York, Harlow. For a Broadway show. It won’t be a major role to start out with, but it’s a foot in, and it’s a thousand times better than working in Piedmont.” He leans in and holds my hands tight, linking our fingers. “And I truly believe you’ve got this in the bag, Harlow. No one dances like you do.”
“Holy f*cking shit,” I mutter, my entire body shaking, my head spinning.
Gunner laughs and tugs on my hands. “Come here and kiss me with that dirty mouth.”
I jump out of the chair and throw myself on Gunner’s lap, squealing and kissing his neck. His hand creeps up the back of my shirt and presses me closer to him, and he laughs. Damn, his laugh is such a good sound.
But something occurs to me amid all the celebrating, and it stills my racing heart.
“Wait,” I say, pulling back from his mouth, searching his green eyes for any trace of evidence to support my suspicions. “Is that what this is about? Getting me out of Piedmont, away from you?”
Gunner pulls my hair back from my face and rubs a thumb over my cheekbone. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. If I had it my way, you’d be a permanent fixture upstairs in that big ass bed, and I’d take care of you for the rest of your life. But I know that’s not what’s going to make you happy. And this opportunity, Harlow...it’s amazing.”
I trace my fingers along his jaw and my heart clenches. “You’re right. It is. But you didn’t just stumble onto this lead. You made it happen. Why? Why now?” I hold my breath, half afraid to hear the answer.
He swallows hard and his eyes shift away from me. “Since I met you, this is what your passion has been. And you can do it on your own, I know that. But if I’m gonna be the man who deserves to be with you, I need to show you how much I support you. You deserve this, Harlow. Not just the dancing, but the support. You deserve to be loved the way you give love.”
“Gunner.” I choke out his name as tears swarm my eyes. “Thank you.”
“Just make sure I have a front row ticket to your opening show,” he says with a shadowy smile.
I shake my head and snuggle close to him, the reality of this suddenly slamming into my brain. Sure, I’ve auditioned before, but never on this scale. Never with this kind of competition. My voice shakes when I ask the next question. “What if I don’t even get in? I mean, I’m good, but those girls in those shows? They’re professionals.”
Gunner pulls me from his chest and lifts my chin. “Hey, I believe in you. I’ve seen you dance, Harlow. There’s no question that you’re unbelievably talented. And if you don’t get in, I’ll be right here waiting for you. And we’ll come up with another plan.” He kisses my lips. “But I think you’ll get this. And, trust me, it’s not just me being blinded by your sexiness. The way you danced at the bar had everybody talking for days. I can’t tell you how many guys I resisted the urge to punch for discussing your...uh, moves.” His perfect mouth settles into a scowl.
“I’m very proud of you,” I say, rubbing my nose on his.
“Don’t be too proud. I overcharged them for drinks, then kicked them the hell out of the bar.”
I digest the idea of the audition slowly. It is the opportunity of a lifetime, no question. Girls don’t get breaks like this handed to them. Gunner must have really worked the charm to finagle this deal.
“So, what’d you have to do to get this girl to offer up this favor?”
Gunner doesn’t smile, or even entertain my joke. “Harlow, don’t you dare even think there was anything—”
I press my index finger to his mouth. “I know. I trust you. Wait...did you say you’ll be waiting here for me?” I bite down on my bottom lip, unable to hide my disappointment. It should be obvious. He owns a home and a business here in Piedmont.
“Baby girl, I don’t want you worrying about me, or where I’m going to end up. You go dance your ass off and we’ll go from there.”
“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.”