by Penny Dee
Just hearing him say Harlow’s name was like a razor blade to the brain.
I didn’t want him there. I’d just found and landed the girl of my dreams—I didn’t need this polar opposite of me turning up to ruin it.
Feigning ignorance, I asked, “And who are you?”
He smiled as if privy to something I wasn’t, then looked at the gold signet ring on his pinky finger. When he looked up, he fixed me with the arrogant stare only known by those of old money and privilege.
Dark eyes fixed on mine and he smirked.
“I’m her boyfriend.”
* * * * *
HARLOW
As soon as I heard that familiar Southern drawl, I leapt off the bed and hurriedly dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top.
Quickly, I left the bedroom, ready to face my past.
By the look on Heath’s face, he had already worked out who was standing in front of him. My stomach sank. I had a bad feeling about this.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Colton said, a little smugly.
“EX-boyfriend,” I said without thinking.
At the sound of my voice, they both turned to face me.
“Well, my Harlow, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Colton beamed.
“Colton, what are you doing here?” I asked.
His eyes rolled over the length of me. When he grinned I noticed Heath’s jaw clench.
“I’m pleased to have found you, that is for sure,” he said with a high-wattage smile.
Standing closely behind Heath I asked, “Why are you here?”
He looked at Heath and then back to me, and his smile faded. “It’s Poppy,” he said. “She had a stroke.”
“Poppy?” I stepped forward. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“She was out here on business. At a vineyard just north of Los Angeles. Now she is convalescing in hospital until she is well enough to return home to Georgia.”
Poppy was the matriarch of the Labousse family. Spritely. Astute. I liked her very much. We’d spent a lot of time together over the past few years. When I’d told her about my plans to spend the summer in California, she had thought it was a good idea.
Poppy was stoic. Stubborn. You didn’t get much past her. Grey but still as elegant as the ’40s debutante that she once was, I adored her. She ruled the Labousse clan with an iron fist. Iron yes. But festooned with jewels, as she would say.
In a few weeks I would be attending the very same debutante ball she had sparkled at almost seventy years earlier.
“Oh Colton, I’m so sorry, is she going to be okay?” I forgot myself and stepped towards my ex-boyfriend. “What do the doctors say?”
“She’s stable. But too unwell to return to Georgia in her current condition.”
“Where is she staying? I should visit with her.”
“She would appreciate the gesture. She has a room at Cedars-Sinai, LA.”
I turned to Heath.
“I have to go,” I whispered.
His eyes were like an auger boring through me. He felt threatened, I could tell. But if Poppy was as ill as Colton had said, I needed to see her. Heath would have to understand.
“Of course,” Heath agreed, although I could tell he was reluctant.
“I can drive us, unless you’re otherwise …” He cast an arrogant appraisal over Heath’s tattooed torso. “Occupied?”
Heath’s hands fisted at his sides. “I will drive her.”
“You have a flight to catch,” I said quietly. “There’s no time.”
“We have a flight to catch.” He reminded me. His tone left nothing to the imagination. He didn’t want to go to Vegas without me. And he certainly didn’t want me travelling to LA with Colton.
But it would take an hour each way, at least, to drive to LA. The flight to Vegas was in less than three.
“Heath please.” I didn’t want to argue the point. Not in front of Colton. My two worlds had just collided and to say there was an awkwardness in the air was like saying Atlantis had sprung a leak.
“I’ll reschedule our flights. We can join the band later,” Heath said, his eyes still fixed firmly on my ex-boyfriend. When he looked at me, his face softened. “Let me do this for you. Let me take you to the hospital.”
“Are you sure?”
He smiled and I fell in love with him all over again. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”
Colton didn’t argue. He told me Poppy’s room details and after another disapproving appraisal of Heath’s magnificent shirtless form, drove off in his rented Audi Spyder.
While I showered and changed, Heath rang the airline. When I was in the bathroom pulling my hair back into a high ponytail, he walked in with a frown on his face.
“I couldn’t get us on other flights that will get me there in time for this afternoon’s publicity shoot.”
The band was committed to the shoot. Heath had to be there.
“Then you have to go. I will take a later flight.”
“Or you could come with me.”
I swung around to face him.
“I have to see Poppy, Heath. She has done a lot for me over the years. You heard Colton, she is very ill. If I don’t go and something happens -” I tilted my head, suddenly realizing what was behind his frown. My eyes rounded. “My God, you don’t trust me!”
When he didn’t respond, it was like a slap in the face.
Finally, after everything we’d been through—after finally pulling down the walls and letting him in—he still didn’t trust me. Something inside of me snapped.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” I demanded. “Tell me you trust me.”
He had to think about it.
“I trust you. It’s your ex-boyfriend I don’t trust,” he finally said. But it was too late. His mistrust had hit a raw nerve and I’d fallen into a deep well of anger while I waited for him to tell me I was wrong.
“What about all the women who couldn’t care less about you having a girlfriend. I don’t trust them, but do you see me throwing a tantrum like a two year old?”
“They’re strangers. Colton is your ex-boyfriend.”
I gritted my teeth. “Exactly. My EX boyfriend. EX!”
“Something tells me that doesn’t mean a hell of a lot to him.”
“Just because you’re helpless when it comes to keeping your hands off the opposite sex, doesn’t mean we all suffer from the same affliction,” I snapped.
I didn’t mean it, but I was angry. And my mouth couldn’t be trusted to keep itself shut when I was angry.
Heath narrowed his eyes. “If I’m not mistaken you just called me a slut.”
“Well … if the shoe fits …” I raised my arms outwards.
Yep. My mouth just couldn’t help itself.
Heath’s eyes flashed and his jaw flinched as he clenched his teeth. He stepped closer to me as he snapped, “I’m not the one riding off with my ex-boyfriend.”
My hands went to my hips. “Oh, so now I’m a slut?”
Because he was angry at me, he raised his arms outwards just as I had. “Like you said Harlow, if the shoe fits …”
It took approximately three seconds for the brush in my hand to collide with his shoulder. Bad shot. I was aiming for the head.
“Fuck you, Heath. Go to Vegas. I’m staying right here so I can see Poppy. With Colton.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
I grabbed my denim jacket and stormed through the house. My cell was by the front door. Angry I rang Colton. I wasn’t hanging around to be insulted any further.
“I think I’m going to need that ride to the hospital, after all.”
Pretending not hear the smile in his voice I grabbed my handbag, slamming the door behind me as I left Heath’s house.
This was our first argument as a couple and it had spiraled out of controlled so quickly. Heath felt threatened by Colton. I got it. But just as he had expected me to get over the threat of all the women who wanted to get into his jeans, I expected the sa
me of him. Yet instead of dealing with it, he acted like a jerk.
Riding in the Audi towards Beverly Hills, I tried to calm myself down.
“You care to tell me what happened?” Colton asked in his Southern drawl.
I shook my head and gazed out the window. I wasn’t sharing what I had with Heath, with him.
“You shouldn’t have called yourself my boyfriend. You and I broke up, remember?”
“I apologize.”
Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I knew he was smiling. Colton liked to cause mischief. But when I didn’t reply, the smile left his voice. “I didn’t mean no harm, Harlow. I didn’t mean to upset your summer fling.”
I turned to face him. “It’s not a summer fling, Colton. It’s so much more than that.”
He looked surprised and stared at me a little longer. Then his eyebrows rose and he turned away, shaking his head.
“I sure hope I’m in the room when your daddy meets him,” he said, turning back to the road and grinning. “And when your mama sees those pictures all over him.”
“They will accept him.”
Colton raised his eyebrow.
“You truly believe that?”
Did I? How on earth was I going to explain Heath to my parents?
I raised my chin. They would have no choice but to accept him. Accept us. Just because they had never envisioned their eldest daughter falling in love with a heavily tattooed musician, it didn’t mean it wasn’t in my future. And Heath was my future.
If he stopped being such an ass.
Chapter Thirteen
HEATH
Because we had argued I woke up with a big ache in my chest.
Because she wasn’t with me, I felt empty and frustrated.
I lay in my bed and looked up at the ceiling, lost in the lazy rhythm of the ceiling fan. I missed Harlow and wanted to hear her voice. I checked my cell phone on the bedside table in case she’d called or texted, but there was only a text from Devo and Bandit with a picture of them and a couple of showgirls they’d picked up overnight.
I lay back and rested my hands behind my head. It was only 7:09 am. Half of Vegas was only now getting to bed and I was wide fucking awake. I hated that Harlow and I had fought. Hated how I had left. Hated that I had an entire day ahead of me with nothing to do but think about our argument and question myself.
Had I fucked things up between us? Would my jealousy send her back into the arms of her ex-boyfriend?
I rolled onto my side and punched the pillow and replayed our argument.
It reminded me how charming and handsome her ex-boyfriend was. I detested that he’d been with her. That he’d once touched her. Kissed her. Made love to her. I had never known jealousy until he’d walked back into her life.
He was everything I wasn’t. He was from her world; I wasn’t.
Frustrated, I got up and took a shower to clear my head.
Somewhere between LA and Vegas I’d lost my mind. I was obsessing and I knew it.
Was she with him now? Is that why I hadn’t heard from her? Was she sitting across from him somewhere, mentally comparing the two of us?
Oh hell! Was she in his arms?
I paused, breathing hard as I stood under the shower spray, and closed my eyes to brace myself against the image of the two of them together. Him touching her. Kissing her. In bed with her …
I slammed my palms against the tiled wall. I couldn’t take any more of my own self-sabotaging behavior. It was like I was stuck in the middle of a Clapton song. On my knees because my girl had turned my whole world upside down.
Fuck. I’d officially entered crazy town.
Shoving off the faucets I toweled off and went to the bedside table to retrieve my phone. I hit Harlow’s number and waited for her to answer. Ready to beg forgiveness. Plead insanity. Promise her everything she needed to hear. Anything to end this madness I was plagued with. But the call went straight to message bank. I tried a second time but again it went to message bank.
I threw my cell on the bed. She was avoiding me. And deservedly so. I’d thrown a tantrum like a toddler.
Either that or she was …
I shook my head to clear away another paranoid thought.
It was 7:30 am. We had press and publicity scheduled for 4:30 that afternoon. I could easily get to LA and back before then.
I rang Bandit.
“You’d better be dead. Or a size 0 blonde with big tits and a wet pussy, ringing me for a good time.” He grumbled into the phone.
“I’m heading back to LA but I’ll be back in town for the meet and greet.”
“You forget something?” I could hear the concern in his gruff voice. But I wasn’t about to explain myself to him. He’d call me pussy-whipped and I wasn’t in the mood.
“Yeah, I left the iron on.”
Delta had a 9:30 am flight to John Wayne but it was delayed so we didn’t get into the air until after 10 am. But we made good time and by eleven o’clock I was standing in Harlow’s doorway, looking across at Bridget.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Vegas?” she asked, yawning.
I wondered if Harlow had told her about our argument.
“I have to take care of something first. Is Harlow home?”
Bridget shook her head. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”
Her words sent my paranoia into overdrive. Harlow hadn’t come home last night?
Panic set in. “She didn’t come home last night?”
Bridge must have noticed the desperation in my voice because she was quick to correct me.
“She probably did, Heath. I just haven’t seen her, that’s all. I pulled a late one at The Palace last night and only just got up. What’s wrong?”
I felt sick. “I just … I need to talk to her.” I paused. “Colton’s back.”
“Oh, yes.” She suddenly looked preoccupied with her painted toenails. “She told me.”
“Bridge … do I have anything to worry about? With Colton?”
She looked up. “I don’t think so, Heath.” She made sure she looked me square in the eye. “Once you’ve burned your bridge with Harlow there’s no swimming to shore and begging for forgiveness. Once she’s done; she’s done. And he made sure of it when he cheated on her with her best friend.”
Somewhere inside the apartment her cell phone beeped.
“Come in, that’s probably her. If not, she might’ve sent me one earlier. She usually sends me a text if we keep missing each other.”
I waited by the kitchen counter as she checked her cell. Panic swelled like a wave when I saw her frown and pause.
“Harlow?” I asked.
She nodded and paused as if she was trying to work something out. Then she smiled brightly but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. I couldn’t help but feel like she was keeping something from me.
“She’s fine. Colton has talked her into brunch at The Vine.”
It was a restaurant ten minutes away. If Colton was taking her there, then I’d be meeting them there. If she wasn’t going to answer my phone calls, she’d have no choice but to talk to me face to face.
Bridge sneezed. “Damn hay fever.” She sneezed again, put down her phone and disappeared to the bathroom to retrieve a tissue.
I didn’t touch her phone. I didn’t have to. The screen was still lit up. I glanced at it, hating myself but desperate to know where my girl was. I twisted my head so I could read the screen. And there it was. Written in a text in front of me:
Sorry I didn’t come home last night. Long story. Explain later. With Colton. At The Vine for brunch.
My stomach flipped and twisted on itself. My girl was with her charismatic ex-boyfriend and hadn’t been home all night. Black shadows filled my head and the urge to punch something was palpable. The dread was like deadly venom carving a slow and painful course through my brain.
This was killing me. I had to find her. I had to sort this shit out.
Exhaling deeply I ran my hand through my hai
r and tried to control the surge of anxiety firing against every nerve and fiber.
Bridge walked back in and could tell by the look on my face something was up. Her eyes dropped to the phone and back to me and her lips settled into a thin line. She sighed.
“She didn’t say she was with him last night.”
“No,” I snapped and headed for the door. “She didn’t have to.”
* * * * *
I’d heard that love led you to do crazy shit. But I’d never experienced it firsthand. It didn’t seem like that long ago when I’d pitied those fools around me who seemed determined to swim those stormy waters. I was never going to be one of them.
Yet here I was. Flailing about in the water like I was caught in a shark attack.
Fear. Panic. Anxiety. I wasn’t used to this bullshit. And I was never this paranoid.
The Vine was less than ten minutes away. Parking across the street I took a moment to work out my game plan. I needed to handle this right. To work out the best angle to play this instead of charging into the restaurant like a psycho and freaking her out. I wanted things to be right between us. It was tough to admit it but I really needed to hear her tell me we were okay. It was the only thing that would calm me down.
Christ, what had happened to me? This girl had messed me up.
Inhaling deeply I closed my eyes and took a moment to center myself. To get myself calm. I’d handle this with a composed heart. I’d go in and tell my girl I was sorry. And fix this.
Feeling calmer I exhaled and opened my eyes. I was ready to climb out of the car when she came into my line of vision. My girlfriend. Across the road. Out the front of the restaurant. In Colton’s arms.
Kissing him.
She. Was. Fucking. Kissing. Him.
* * * * *
HARLOW
My cell phone had died. I knew Bridge would be worried and Heath would probably be frantic. My visit with Poppy had turned into an all-nighter. Even though visiting hours had long past, when you’re a determined old Southern lady with more money than the national deficit, you pretty much got what you asked for.
The stroke had taken its toll on her. Usually feisty and stubborn, she was weak and tired. But my visit was a good elixir, or so she said, smiling up at me from her hospital bed.
