by Skyla Madi
You can do this, shit head. You loved Carley. Still do, right? Carley, Carley, Carley…Damn, baby. I miss you.
“Fuck me!” he growled. Toby stood up so fast his chair knocked over, and he began to pace. “Get a grip, dude.” He threw his hands in the air and gripped his cell phone tighter. “Crazy ass, talkin’ to yourself. Just make the call.”
Before he could talk himself out of it, he dialed the number she had left at the shop and rubbed the back of his neck as it rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Harlow, it’s Toby. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for tomorrow night.”
“Dinner, right?” she said, and he could swear she was smiling as she said it, too. Don’t ask him how. It was just a feeling.
“Yeah,” he said. “I was hoping.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, then.” She sounded happy, and it made his own mouth twitch just hearing it.
“Good to hear. There are no allergies I need to worry about, are there?”
“Not from me,” she replied. “Where are you taking me? So I’ll know what to wear.”
“I was thinking Mecca’s on Richfield. Shit, I hope you’re not vegetarian.”
“Ooh, nice, and nope. You’re good once again. I totally love a good steak.” She practically purred, and his dick twitched.
Shit!
“Toby?” She said his name like it was a question when he grew quiet for a minute.
“Still here.” He sighed and rubbed the stubble against his jaw. “It’s getting late. I should probably go.”
“Okay,” she whispered, as if she sensed his inner dilemma. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Can you meet me at the shop around seven?”
“Sure. I look forward to it.” He could hear her exhale on the other end. “Sweet dreams, Toby.”
“I wish. Night, Harlow.”
Fuck! Did I just say that out loud? I wish? Really?
Toby disconnected the call before she could say any more and tossed the phone onto his coffee table. Sleep evaded him, and he didn’t feel like going out. He decided to do the next best thing instead by picking up his sketch pad and letting his pencil take control. With thoughts of a certain hottie columnist-slash-psychologist-slash-kindred spirit on his mind, it was no wonder the picture turned out to be her in the end.
He was fucked. Well and truly fucked.
Chapter Twelve
Harlow
Each season had its own distinct characteristics, and because she lived in the Upper Midwest, they had such a wide variety of weather from one extreme to another. The winters were freezing, the fall and spring were damp, and the summers were hot, period. There seemed to be no in between.
The sun shone brightly on this mid-July evening, and Harlow had to place a hand on her forehead to block out its rays. She opened her car door and stepped out.
Here goes nothing.
She stood on the asphalt parking lot in front of Misfit, ready to meet Toby. Her nerves were starting to get the best of her, and she took a deep breath to settle them as she shut the door behind her. At the click of a button, her car beeped to indicate the locks had engaged. She reached into her purse to grab her shades and put them on. This felt so much like a date, and she hadn’t been on one of those in God knew how long. She honestly couldn’t remember, but she also knew deep down that Toby probably didn’t feel the same way. This was business to him. Mostly. Probably. Maybe.
“Harlow!”
She started and placed a hand to her chest.
“Up here, babe.” She looked to see Toby waving from the side of the building, and she headed toward him.
“Hey, you.” She smiled when she reached the stairs.
“Come on up.” He gestured for her to follow him as he disappeared behind a door she never noticed before now. Not that she’d been to Misfit very often.
“You live here too?” she asked.
The view of the spacious loft apartment above the shop was unexpected, but she had to admit, it was a cool space to be in. It was bright and airy with several large industrial windows. There were light-colored, hardwood floors throughout, and it was so open she could pretty much see everything all at once. There, in the far-right corner, was a large, plush-looking, king-sized bed. Yep, leave it to her to zoom in on his bedroom right from the get-go. She held back a groan and looked around. The opposite end of the room held a small but modern kitchen with white granite counter tops, dark grey cupboards, stainless steel appliances which included a gas stove. A small, two-seater wooden table was nearby, followed by a cozy living room. Classic artwork decorated his walls, which she assumed was his own work, and there were a few personal pictures scattered about.
“Yeah. Pretty convenient, huh?” Toby peeked his head out from behind the only other door in the place, so she guessed it was the bathroom.
“I like it.” She gave him a slight nod of agreement and rubbed nervous hands down the sides of her dress as if she were trying to smooth out some non-existent wrinkles in the fabric. She took a deep breath and straightened her posture to exude confidence, at least outwardly.
Toby walked out of the bathroom and smiled. “Sorry about that. I spilled some coffee earlier, so I needed a quick change before we go.” He looked her up and down appreciatively. “You look beautiful.”
He reached out to touch her hair, curled a strand of it around his finger, and let go. “I’ve never seen it done up before.”
She shrugged. Her hair was pinned up loosely to get it off her shoulders, and a few strands were left loose in the front. “I don’t get out much. I guess I got carried away and dressed up.” She gestured to her summer dress and her hair.
“I’m flattered. Thank you.” Toby winked, and she blushed. He grabbed a set of keys from the coffee table and placed his hand on her lower back to guide her out. “I figured you could leave your ride here and we’d take my Jeep.”
“S-sure.” As they descended the stairs, Harlow admired his tight ass encased in cargo shorts. He wore a light t-shirt that fit just snug enough to outline the muscles of his back and chest perfectly. She checked her mouth for drool and sighed. Toby was made for temptation—completely delectable—a man of sex, sin, and fun. But he was also fiercely loyal, hardworking, and he loved hard once he let down those walls. Anyone could tell if they looked close enough. It was the way he took pride in the shop, the hours he put into it, and the way he acted when he was around the people he was closest to, like Mel, Carson, Dee, and Rebel. She imagined it was the same with Ash, too.
“Here we are.” He turned to face her once he stopped in front of his own ride, but it wasn’t the Jeep that caught her attention or the man she’d been fantasizing about just a moment before. It was the badass Harley parked to his right.
“No way.” Harlow moved around him and lovingly caressed the satin chrome finishes. “My father had one of these when I was growing up, and I used to love riding with him.” She cherished those memories.
“I’ll have to take you out on it sometime.” Toby smirked as he watched her reaction.
“It’s yours?” she asked. “Don’t tease me, now.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And here I had to go and wear a dress,” she pouted. “We could’ve gone for a ride tonight.”
“Gives us another excuse to get together again, now doesn’t it?”
“It’s a date!” she exclaimed. “I’m really going to look forward to it, too.”
“Good to know,” he said. “Ready to hit the road?”
“If we must.” She sighed, took one last longing look toward the black Fat Boy, and hopped into the waiting Jeep.
Her updo was less than perfect once they arrived at the restaurant, but it was worth it to have the top down and feel the wind course through her hair during the drive. There was something liberating about throwing her hands up, closing her eyes, and enjoying the feel of the elements that surrounded her without a care in the world. It wa
s both relaxing and freeing at once.
Toby got out and quickly made his way to her side to help her out. He searched her face and smirked as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re remarkable. You know that?”
“That’s me,” Harlow replied with more confidence than she felt. Her stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly. “Apparently, I’m also hungry.”
“I see that,” Toby said. “Shall we?”
She took his arm and followed him across the parking lot.
Mecca’s was an oasis of rustic elegance. From the wooden ceiling, to the dimly lit crystal chandeliers above each table. There was light, plush carpeting, a coat room, which they didn’t need, and a long bar on the right side of the foyer. To the left stood a very refined-looking hostess.
“Reservation for James, party of two,” she overheard Toby say as she admired their surroundings.
“Yes, follow me.”
She was met with the warmth of Toby’s hand at her lower back again and couldn’t help but shiver at the contact as they followed behind the hostess until they reached their table. At that moment, he pulled her chair out for her, and she smiled widely. “Such a gentleman.”
“Not often.” Toby cleared his throat. “I’m a little rusty.” The tinge of pink in his cheeks was endearing.
“Do you come here often? It’s a great spot for a date.”
And there comes the verbal vomit.
Now it was her turn to blush as she continued to stammer. “Um, not that tonight is a date or anything. It’s just…” She gestured around them and left the sentence hanging.
“I get you.” Toby placed his hand on top of hers from across the table to stop her from fidgeting. “You’re different, and I wanted to take you some place nice. End of story.”
“Different how?” she asked. “I’m just a regular girl, taking life one day at a time. Like the rest of you.”
“See, that’s were your wrong.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “From the moment we met, I could tell you were different than what I was used to. You’re smart and beautiful and one of the strongest women I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. I know loss, Harlow. It’s not the same as yours exactly, but it still fucks me up. You, on the other hand,” he shrugged, “I guess when I see you, I see what hope looks like. You’ve hit bottom and crawled back to the top. You help people and honor your daughter’s memory. I see it, and I admire you for it.”
It was her turn to reach out to him. She took his hand in hers and leaned forward. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I think I might cry.”
“Shit, please don’t.” He rubbed the hand she wasn’t holding across his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“They’d be happy tears, I promise.” She blinked a few times to gain composure. “But I won’t. If there is anything I can do for you, if ever you need to talk…”
Toby nodded, but he didn’t have a chance to answer. The waiter approached to get their drink orders, and when he left again, the amazingly complicated man across from her changed the subject.
“You know what you want?” He picked up the menu to study it, so she followed suit and did the same.
“The filet mignon looks good, with the rosemary-roasted potatoes and glazed carrots on the side.”
He nodded as he closed the menu. “I’m going with the porterhouse, medium, with a side of sweet potato fries.”
“Good choice.” Harlow took a sip of water. “Were you able to check your schedule? The outline healed well. At least the itching has stopped, but I’ve been applying lotion liberally.”
“Uh, yeah, but I left it at home. You mind coming up for a few when we’re done here? You still need to show me those mad drawing skills, remember?”
“Oh, no,” she grimaced. “You really want to see my stick figures that badly?”
“I do.” He chuckled, and it was nice to see him at ease again. When she asked how he thought she was different, she hadn’t expected such a sweet answer.
Their drinks arrived, their orders were soon placed, and in the meantime, they played a game of twenty questions to get to know one another. It was fun, they kept it light, and she soon learned his favorite color used to be blue, but now it was green, for some reason. Besides Love the Sinner, his favorite band was Shinedown. He was a Minnesota native. He’d known Carson and Mel since childhood. Out of all his family, he was closest to his cousin Ash, and he’d always aspired to be a tattooist.
They ate, they talked, they laughed, and they toasted to new beginnings, memories, and friendship together.
It was a great time.
Chapter Thirteen
Dear Harlow:
Let me start by saying my boyfriend and I have been together for a year now, and we work together but in different departments. Things have been going well enough, but there’s this new girl at work who keeps flirting with him and it’s pissing me off. What should I do?
~Jealousy Sucks, Minnesota Girl~
*
Dear Minnesota Girl:
Jealousy does suck, but it’s a common emotion. My question is: how does your boyfriend react to this flirting? It’s hard to give you the right advice when I don’t know the whole story. Go with your gut. If he’s engaging in an inappropriate manner with this woman, then that’s being disrespectful. Kick him to the curb. But if he’s innocent in this and doesn’t appreciate her advances, then maybe you should both talk to her so she’ll knock it off. If that doesn’t work out, you may have to report it to human resources.
Good luck,
Harlow
***
Toby
Harlow sat on Toby’s couch, waiting as he grabbed them a drink from the kitchen. Toby also snatched his calendar on the way and soon returned to sit next to her. His heart felt like it stuttered as he saw her face light up when she looked at him. “Here’s your beer.”
“Thank you,” she said as she took a sip before placing the bottle on the wooden coffee table in front of them. She smoothed out her dress where it touched her thighs, and he gulped before clearing his throat. Toby looked away for a minute and came back to his senses. It was too quiet for his liking.
Then talk, dumbass!
“Right, so, about that appointment…” He opened his schedule and flipped through the pages. “I’ve got an opening Friday, next week. Would you be available?”
“What time?” Harlow asked as she reached for her purse on the next cushion and rummaged through it to grab her phone. She scrolled through, and he didn’t answer her until she seemed ready for it.
“Evening work for you? I’ve got a six-thirty open. If not, we can do the following Tuesday at three.”
“Friday’s good.” She smiled, typed it into her phone as a reminder, and dumped the cell back into her bag again.
“Next Friday night’s all yours, then,” he confirmed as he pencilled her in.
“After this tattoo, are you free to take me for that ride, too?” She turned to face him and held her hands together, looking hopeful. It made him laugh. She was so darn cute.
“Got the hots for my Harley, do you?”
“I totally do,” she said. “Me and that Fat Boy need to be introduced properly. I should take a picture of me standing beside it and send it to my dad. It would absolutely make his day. Did you know he still has the one he used to take me out on in his garage? He doesn’t get to take it out as much as he used to, though.”
“Oh, and why is that?” Toby asked.
“Now that they’re retired, Mom likes to travel abroad. They’re gone half the year.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” he commented then took a drink.
“About that bike ride…can we?” She brought her hands up and pretended to beg.
“I could swing it. I ride all the time, and believe me, it is not a chore to take a beautiful woman along.” He winked, and she blushed. He loved her reactions to such a simple compliment, and it was kind of nice to know he affected her that way. The at
traction was certainly mutual, no matter how much he tried to fight it. “As long as you don’t mind riding at night. You’ll be my last appointment for the day, and the tattoo will take some time to finish, but afterward, I’d be free to take you anywhere.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Harlow nodded and stood up. She took her beer with her and walked to the opposite wall. He watched her closely as she admired the artwork, and he could tell she was suddenly nervous. He stood up to follow, and she stiffened when he spoke. “I did that in an art class I took in my early twenties, just for fun.” He motioned toward the canvas, which showed an attractive, shapely woman laying down on a chaise with nothing but a blanket covering her lower half. “I don’t normally paint. I prefer to draw, but I liked this one, so I put it up.”
“I-it’s beautiful.” she whispered, not looking at him. Then she chugged the rest of her beer.
“Hey, are you okay?” Toby reached out to her, gently took a hold of her arm, and turned her so she faced him again.
“You really want me to draw for you?” she asked. “Your work is so amazing, and I could never be as good.”
“Are you nervous because I wanted to see how well you drew a picture?” She had a way of catching him off-guard. “I’d never make you do something you’re uncomfortable with; no pressure. You know that, right?”
She nodded again and took a deep breath. “It’s not that, per se. Oh, to hell with it. Hand me a pad of paper and a pencil and tell me what you want me to draw. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”
“You sure?” He had to make certain. Something was going on in that head of hers, and she wasn’t sharing whatever that seemed to be.
“I might need another one of those, but yeah, I’m good.” Harlow pointed to her empty drink and smiled. “Thanks, Toby.”
