I’d texted her about an hour into my shift to check on her and she told me she was at Cara’s planning a wedding that was going to happen in three weeks. My first thought when I read her message was I wish it were ours.
Which was exactly the reason it was a good thing that she was no longer going to be working up at the ranch with me.
Last night had been infinitely better and exponentially worse than I could’ve ever prepared for. Better because being with Harmony was…everything. Besides being hotter than hell and the best sex I’d ever had, being with her felt natural. Right. When we were together, nothing else mattered. My entire existence became condensed to the moment that we were in. I’d never felt so present. So alive. It was, hands down, the best night of my life.
It was worse because, as much as I tried, I couldn’t seem to get her out of my system. Every time we were together it just made me want her more. Instead of being satisfied, I wanted more. I needed her more.
I’d never done any hard drugs because, since my dad was a cop, I’d seen what drugs did to people when I was growing up. It destroyed their lives and their families’ lives. All that mattered to a junkie was their next hit. They didn’t care what they had to do to get it. That was what it was like being with Harmony—I would do anything for my next hit. Not just physically, but I would do anything to see her smile, to see her eyes light up when she looked at me, to hear the soft sounds of her breathing while she slept.
Even now, I hadn’t seen her for fourteen hours and I felt like I was coming out of my skin. She’d texted me about an hour ago and it was killing me to not text her back. It was a flirty text, asking me where I got the bone for Romeo and if I wanted to bring another one over.
As badly as I wanted to text back yes, or better yet just show up at her door, I knew I couldn’t. At work today, I’d barely been able to concentrate on the stacks of paperwork I needed to get through. I was making rookie mistakes that had cost me at least a couple of hours to fix.
This had to stop. Not that I had any idea how to make that happen. I’d tried ignoring her for years, and then last night was supposed to have been about getting her out of my system. Which turned out to be an epic fail.
“Your dad said you took a personal day yesterday?”
“Yep.” We’d made it through dinner and dessert. I was actually surprised it had taken her this long to bring it up.
She handed me another dish. “I saw Mrs. Lana at church this morning and she mentioned that she saw your car outside Harmony’s last night. Was everything okay?”
Damn small towns.
“Harmony Briggs?” Holden perked up.
Hearing her name come out of his mouth had me suppressing a growl.
“How’s she doing?” he asked, doing a bad impression of Joey from Friends.
“She’s fine.” This time I did growl.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom taking in the interaction and I knew that, unless I wanted her to chair an all-out “Hudson and Harmony” campaign, I needed to get my shit under control.
“Why were you at her house last night?” The faux innocence in my mom’s voice wasn’t fooling anyone. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. It was her birthday. I stopped by to give her a present.” And I did. I gave her ten climactic presents.
Holden’s forehead wrinkled as he raised his brows. “I didn’t know you two were close.”
“Harmony’s been helping your brother out up at the ranch,” my mom chirped, a little too happily for my liking.
“She wasn’t helping me out,” I corrected. “She was there doing supervised community service.”
“And you were supervising her?” Holden wagged his brows.
“Yes.” I ignored my brother’s juvenile innuendo.
Stretching his arm over the back of the stool beside him, my brother rolled his neck from side to side. “I was actually planning on heading up with you tomorrow, so I can see the progress.”
Bullshit.
“She finished her hours Friday. Still want to come up?”
He shrugged.
My mom tilted her head slightly. “I thought she had another week?”
“She’s finished.” Just like I was with this conversation.
Never one to give up easily, my mom changed tactics. “Do you know if she’s coming to the party? She was such a doll helping me pick out the flowers. I’d love for her to see how it all comes together.”
“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”
I could feel my brother’s assessing stare like lasers pointed at me as he asked the question, “Do you know if she’s seeing anybody?”
“No,” I answered flatly.
“Well, if she doesn’t have a date, maybe I should ask her.”
“You two always did get along,” my mom co-signed.
“Yes.” He smiled smugly, never breaking eye contact with me. “Yes we did.”