by Brenda Novak
“I just heard you moved out. I’ve been worried about you, wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I’m okay.” She grinned at Harley. “Better than okay.”
“Who is it?” Harley asked.
“Damien,” she mouthed.
“You could always stay at my condo,” Damien was saying. “You know I’ve got plenty of room.”
“No, thanks. I’m fine right here.”
“In a hotel? There’s no need to spend the—”
“Tell him you have to go,” Harley said, kissing her arm all the way up to her neck.
“Who’s that?” Damien asked.
“Umm…” Lauren stifled a giggle despite the fact that Harley’s lips were sending goose bumps down her spine. “Umm…it’s Harley,” she finally admitted.
“Harley!” Damien cried. “So it’s true what he told me?”
“I don’t know. What did he tell you?”
Suddenly Harley rolled onto his elbows. “Hang up,” he whispered, trying to take the phone away from her.
“No, wait.” She held the phone higher. “What did Harley tell you, Damien?”
“That bastard said you were in love with him.”
Lauren blinked in surprise and Harley finally stopped trying to take the phone. With a groan, he buried his face in the pillow.
“Is it true?” Damien demanded.
She hadn’t told Harley she loved him during the night because she’d assumed her actions had already revealed as much—and she was afraid she wouldn’t measure up to Audra. As far as guys went, she’d never measured up to Audra, and Harley would know that better than anyone. But Damien had put the question to her, and she wanted to answer.
She took a deep breath, gathering her nerve, and Harley finally lifted his head to look at her.
“Do you?” he whispered. “Do you love me?”
She put her palm against his whisker-roughened cheek. “I do,” she said, and for Damien’s benefit, “I love him.”
“Does that mean you’ll marry me?” Harley asked.
“Lauren, no! Don’t do this,” Damien shouted in the background. “Your father’ll never talk to you again. How can you turn your back on everything you’ve ever known? On your family? How can you give yourself to a man like him?”
“I’m sorry, Damien,” she said, “but he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted.” Then Harley hung up the phone and kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead before tucking her head beneath his chin and pulling her close.
“You won’t change your mind when you have to tell your father, will you?” he asked.
“I THINK MAYBE we should talk about my finances before we visit your parents today,” Harley said, leaning against the bathroom door while Lauren was getting ready. Except for the time they’d taken to attend his hearing, they’d spent two full days together at the hotel.
Lauren had realized this was coming. At some point she and Harley had to figure out how they were going to survive and provide for Brandon. She understood that motorcycle salesmen didn’t make a lot of money. She wasn’t expecting the kind of life she’d lived in the past. And she was perfectly willing to go to work. But now was not the time to discuss any of this. She could make her feelings clear to Harley later, when she was relaxed and could concentrate on protecting the infamous male ego. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?” she asked.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “I just don’t want to deal with it right now. Money doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is the fact that I’d marry you if you had millions—” she turned away from the mirror for a quick kiss “—and I’d marry you if you were penniless.”
He rested a hand on his hip. “But things might not be as bad as you think.”
“I’m sure they’re not. We’ll manage somehow,” she said. “But right now, my cell phone’s ringing. Any chance you’d be willing to grab it off the nightstand for me?”
He grinned. “Just don’t get mad at me later.”
“For what?” she said, but he was already gone, and after a moment, she heard him on her phone.
“She just got out of the shower. Hang on a minute.”
“It’s Kimberly,” he said, reappearing in the doorway. “And because I doubt your parents will have the same forgiving views of my finances, I’ve got to go out for a little while.”
“For what?” she asked.
“You don’t want to talk about it, remember? I’ll pick you up in an hour or so, okay?”
She nodded and he dropped a kiss on her forehead on his way out.
“Hi, Kim,” she said, returning to the application of her mascara.
“You didn’t call me yesterday. How did Harley’s hearing go?”
“You’re spending so much time with Tank, I thought he’d tell you.”
“I’m spending time with Tank, but Harley isn’t. Not since he started staying with you.”
Lauren smiled to herself. The past two days had been the best of her life. “The hearing went well,” she said. “No jail time, just an eight-hundred-dollar fine.”
“Ouch, but I guess it could’ve been worse.”
“Harley’s just glad it’s over, I think.”
“How’s your ankle?”
“Almost as good as new. I can walk on it now.”
“Great. Want to go to lunch later?”
Finished with her mascara, Lauren dropped the tube in her cosmetics bag and rummaged for her blush. “You’re not seeing Tank?”
“He can’t get away from the job site today, so he’s coming over after work instead.”
“I’d love to do lunch,” Lauren said. “Only I’m seeing my parents this morning. I don’t know where things will go from there. I might not feel up to socializing, you know?”
“Uh-oh. Is Harley going with you?”
“After all the things my father did to him, I’d actually prefer to go alone. But Harley insists that he’s going with me. He says he wants to be there, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case I need protecting, I guess.”
“That’s so sweet,” Kimberly said. “I know we were worried about Harley at first, but I think you’ve got a good guy.”
Lauren imagined her upcoming marriage. Lauren Marie Nelson…Mrs. Matthew Nelson… She’d wake up in bed with Harley every morning for the rest of her life. “I know I do,” she said.
“Good luck with your parents.”
“Thanks. I’m afraid I’m going to need it.”
HERE WE GO, Lauren thought as she knocked at the door of her parents’ house. She’d postponed delivering the news of her upcoming marriage until Brandon was back in school, so he wouldn’t be around to hear what her parents might say. But the idea of facing Quentin and Marilee hadn’t gotten any easier with the passing of time.
Harley stood silently at her side, more withdrawn than she’d ever seen him.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Are you?” he replied, but there was no opportunity to answer because her mother opened the door.
“Lauren!” Marilee moved toward Lauren, apparently intending to hug her, but then her eyes darted to Harley, and she stepped back, pressing a hand to her chest instead. “What are you doing here?” she said. “Your father’s home, you know,” she added to Lauren.
“We were hoping he would be,” Lauren said. “We want to talk to you both. May we come in?”
Her mother hesitated and glanced over her shoulder as though she couldn’t make the decision on her own. But then she nodded. “Okay.”
Harley held the door for Lauren before following her into the living room, where her mother motioned them to the tapestry-covered chairs near the window. “Please, have a seat,” she said, as formally as if they were new acquaintances.
Lauren tried not to let it bother her. She told herself she could withstand the pain even if her parents disowned her, but deep down, she wasn’t so sure. Please, let this go sm
oothly, help them understand…
“I’ll get Quentin,” Marilee said, but Lauren’s father was already coming down the hall.
“Who was at the door?” he asked. Then he saw Lauren and Harley, and stopped, his eyes narrowing.
“I thought I told you never to come back here,” he said to Lauren.
Lauren stood, as did Harley, and swallowed to ease the sudden dryness of her throat. “I know you’re unhappy with me,” she began. “But—”
“Unhappy with you? Do you think you’re going to make me any happier by bringing this man into my house again?”
“I just came to tell you something. I…I—”
“You’re not pregnant,” her mother said.
“No.” Lauren looked over at Harley for strength. “I’m not pregnant. At least not yet. We’d like to have a baby fairly soon, though.”
Marilee swayed and grasped the back of a chair for support, but her father showed no outward sign of surprise. “You want a baby with him?” he said in obvious disgust.
Lauren nodded. “Harley and I are getting married this weekend. In Vegas. And we want Brandon to live with us in California.”
“Have you lost your mind?” her father yelled. “What does Harley have to offer you? Or Brandon? He’s a motorcycle salesman, for Pete’s sake. Do you want to spend the rest of your life working to support him?”
“Lauren won’t have to work unless she wants to,” Harley said.
“And you’re going to keep her in comfort, is that right?” her father shot back. “You’re going to maintain her standard of living? With your background? With your income?”
Harley drew an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her father. “There’s nothing wrong with my income,” he said. “You can see for yourself.”
“What’s this?” her father asked.
“Just a little something I had my manager fax me this morning.”
Her father opened the envelope, withdrew the documents inside, and smoothed them out so he could read them. Then he looked up at Harley, an expression of stunned surprise on his face. “This is a Profit and Loss Statement.”
“It’s my Profit and Loss Statement.”
“But…this says you own the Harley Davidson dealership in Burlingame, California.”
“I do. It also says I’m worth about five million dollars. Is that enough?”
Lauren felt her jaw drop. Harley was rich? He owned the dealership in California? “But you told me you were a salesman,” she said, confused.
“I never told you I was a salesman,” he said.
“But you let me think you didn’t have any money. Why?”
Harley scowled and ran a hand through his hair. “You said it earlier. Money doesn’t matter. I’m still the man I was ten years ago. And—”
“And what?” she prompted.
“And I think I wanted you from the moment you opened that door. If I was finally going to be good enough, I didn’t want it to be because of the money.”
Her father shoved the Profit and Loss Statement back at Harley. “You are still the man you were ten years ago. If Lauren’s willing to let you use her to get to Brandon, that’s up to her, but I’m not going to make the same mistake.”
“God, you always look for the worst in people,” Harley said. “I’m not marrying Lauren to get to Brandon. I’m his father. I’ll press my suit in either case. I’m marrying Lauren because…” He glanced at her. “I’m in love with her,” he finished, lowering his voice. “And I plan to do everything I can to make her happy.”
“As if you could—” Quentin began, but Marilee, who’d been standing silent and wringing her hands, stopped him by putting a restraining hand on his arm.
“Didn’t you hear that, Quentin?” she said. “Aren’t you listening? He loves Lauren. He loves our little girl.”
“I don’t care if he loves the man in the moon! We lost Audra because of him!”
“We lost Audra because of Audra,” Marilee said. “Will you let what happened ten years ago cost us another daughter?”
Quentin opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Looks like it already has,” he muttered. “But I won’t let it cost us our grandson, too.”
“Then stop shoving them all away,” she said. “Brandon’s talked about nothing but Harley since we returned. It’s obvious where his heart is. As soon as he’s old enough, he’ll leave us and go to them. We’re just his grandparents and we don’t hold the same appeal. That’s only natural. But Harley is Brandon’s father, and Lauren—” she paused “—well, Lauren’s his mother in every sense of the word. You should know that better than anyone.”
Lauren felt her knees go weak. She’d never seen her mother contradict her father before and doubted Quentin would tolerate it…but he did. He stood silent, his chest rising and falling as he stared at his wife. Suddenly all the fight seemed to drain out of him.
“You’re right,” he said at last. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re right.” And then he left the room.
Her mother frowned as she watched him go. Turning back to Lauren, she said, “I’ll have Brandon’s bags packed.” Her voice was resolute. “When will you be coming for him?”
“Is Friday after school okay?”
She nodded.
“Will you and Dad come to Vegas with us for the wedding?” Lauren asked.
Her mother cast another glance in the direction her father had disappeared. “Probably not,” she said. “Your father’s going to need some time to adjust to this, and I’m going to be here with him until he’s ready—provided he doesn’t take too long. You,” she said to Harley, “promise me you’ll take good care of my daughter and grandson, and that the three of you will come back and stay with us for Thanksgiving.”
“I promise,” Harley said.
Lauren smiled despite the tears streaming down her face. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I love you, honey,” she said. “Be happy.”
“DO YOU THINK you can come over tonight?” Scott asked Brandon just after the afternoon bell rang.
Brandon started gathering his books from his desk. “I hope so. I don’t like being home without Lauren. My grandma doesn’t know what to do with me. She keeps baking cookies and bringing them to my room and asking me if I want this or that, but I don’t want anything, except for Lauren to come back.”
“I thought you wanted to move to California with your father.”
Brandon shrugged. “I think my dad’s really cool. But I’ve never lived with him before. I don’t know what it’s going to be like. And I’ll miss Lauren even if she lives in the same city.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed Scott out of the classroom, then grimaced when he nearly bumped into Travis and Theo hurrying down the hall.
“Thanks for getting me suspended, Worthington,” Theo said as they pushed toward the front steps, along with everyone else.
“I got put on restriction because of you,” Travis added, glowering. “Just because you’re so touchy about being a bastard.”
“Shut up,” Brandon said, “or I’ll land you on restriction again.”
“The fight was your fault, anyway,” Scott told them. “That guy by the fence last week was Brandon’s dad. I’ve met him. I’ve even ridden on his motorcycle.”
“And you think I’m stupid enough to believe that?” Travis rolled his eyes. “You’d say anything, Torrin. You’re his best friend.”
“Scott isn’t lying,” Brandon insisted, cutting the other two boys off just as they exited the school. The rest of the children continued to flow around them, rushing off to catch their rides home, but Brandon wasn’t in any hurry to meet up with his grandfather. He was tired of Theo and Travis’s taunts and the snickering they’d done earlier in class, when they kept whispering the “b” word at him. He wanted to shut them up once and for all. After everything that had happened at home, getting suspended a second time seemed like the least of his problems.
“You’d better quit bot
hering me,” he said.
“Or what?” Travis said. “You’ll fall and get a bloody nose again?”
Theo started laughing and Brandon shucked off his backpack.
“Don’t,” Scott warned him, grabbing his arm. “Come on, school’s out. Let’s go home and see if my mom’ll take us miniature golfing.”
“I don’t want to go miniature golfing,” Brandon said, jerking away. “I want to make these guys mind their own business.”
“Ooh, I’m scared,” Theo said.
“You think you can do that, Worthington?” Travis asked.
“I’m ready to try,” he replied and drew back to give Theo a bloody nose this time, but a large male hand cupped his fist and stopped its forward motion.
“What’s going on here?”
It was his father. Brandon immediately recognized the voice and blinked up at Harley in surprise, then dropped his fist to his side. “Dad, what are you doing here?”
“I came to give you a ride home on the bike.”
“But Grandpa—”
“Gave his permission. So did Lauren. Only I don’t like what I’m seeing. This looks like another fight about to happen.”
“It wasn’t Brandon’s fault,” Scott volunteered. “They were calling him a bastard again, just like before.”
Eyes widening, Theo and Travis took a step backward. “We didn’t mean it,” they said. “We were just having fun.”
“Fun?” his father echoed, disgust apparent on his face. “So, you think it would be fun if Brandon called you names?”
They shook their heads. “No, sir.”
“And they said you weren’t Brandon’s father, that a guy like you wouldn’t want Brandon for a son,” Scott piped up.
Brandon stared down and scuffed his tennis shoe against the cement. Some of the last stragglers leaving the school were hanging around, hoping to find out what was going on; Melissa Hayes was one of them. He didn’t want her to see him getting in trouble again, didn’t want her to hear what Travis and Theo had been calling him. But he was penned in on all sides and couldn’t think of a quick escape.
“Well, now we know these guys don’t have a clue about anything,” his father was saying as he put a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Because Brandon’s about the best son a guy like me could have.”
