Waiting for Prince Harry

by Aven Ellis

  Harrison laughs with me, but then we get to work. We unhook connections and push appliances out of the way. Next we move to the countertops. I use the cordless screwdriver to back out the screws so Harrison can pry the countertop off the base cabinets. We lug these, and the sink, to the donation pile.

  And even though Harrison is providing most of the muscle, I’m already sweating.

  But now the truly hard work is about to begin.

  “You know, Kylie, I’m feeling incredibly guilty for denying you your sledge hammer fantasy,” Harrison says slowly, rubbing his fingertips along his jaw line. “So why don’t we start with the wall, then do the cabinets? Just so I feel like an attentive boyfriend who is in tune with your needs.”

  Seriously, Harrison Flynn is like the Hottest. Man. Ever.

  “Well, I would never turn down a man who wants to tear down a wall,” I say, smiling at him.

  “We’ll do it together. You need your gear.” He hands me safety goggles and a breathing mask.

  I laugh. “I’m sure I look very attractive right now,” I say, putting them on.

  Harrison cocks an eyebrow at me. “Kylie, safety gear is incredibly hot.”

  Then we both burst out laughing.

  Harrison puts his goggles and mask on, and we each put on work gloves.

  “Would you like the first swing, Kylie?” Harrison asks, holding a sledgehammer out toward me.

  “Now this is an honor,” I say, taking the sledgehammer from him. Good lord, this thing is heavy! “Where do I start?”

  “Anywhere you like,” Harrison says.

  “Okay,” I say, walking up to it. I concentrate really hard, take a deep breath, use all my upper body strength to swing the hammer, and whack! I barely make a dent in the wall.

  “Are you kidding me?” I gasp, thinking this was going to be a lot easier than it actually was. I pick up the hammer and take another swing, and another small notch of the wall flies out.

  “Well, since I know it’s going to be a turn on for you, would you like me to have a go at it?” Harrison quips.

  I smile sheepishly, and Harrison laughs as I hand him the sledgehammer.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” Harrison declares.

  I watch as he easily swings the heavy sledgehammer up to the wall. Whack! And with one strike, large pieces of the wall come tearing down. Debris is flying everywhere, and Harrison repeats the process, his large arm muscles going to work, easily demolishing the wall swing after powerful athletic swing.

  And I was so right about this being a turn-on.

  His body is so strong, so huge, so muscular that Harrison makes this work look easy. Like he was pushing a thumbtack into a corkboard rather than swinging a heavy hammer into a wall.

  After he takes out a chunk of it, he puts the sledge hammer down and lifts up the bottom of his bridge T-shirt and wipes his brow with it, revealing the chiseled hockey-player abs I never get sick of seeing.

  “That’s a start,” Harrison says, smiling at me. “Care to join me now?”

  “I don’t know how helpful I am, but I would love to join you,” I say, laughing.

  Harrison hands me another sledgehammer and wraps his hand over mine as I go to take it from him.

  “You’re more than helpful,” Harrison says, his eyes steady on mine as he looks at me through his goggles. “I wouldn’t want to do this without you.”

  His hand stays over mine and my heart leaps with utter joy inside my chest as I look into the eyes of the man I love.

  I take the hammer from him, and we work side-by-side, tearing out this old kitchen together.

  To make room for the new kitchen, the kitchen of my dreams, the one this man wants to give me.

  I allow myself to see it as we chip away at the wall. I see Harrison in the kitchen, cooking for me at the robin’s egg blue vintage stove. I see us spending mornings sitting at the large kitchen island, drinking coffee and discussing our plans for the day. I see myself baking brownies to welcome him home from a long road trip. I see Cooper and Lola racing across the reclaimed barn wood floors, followed by our children.

  I see it with such clarity. With certainty. It’s a feeling I’ve never had before. I thought I felt it with Josh, but it wasn’t like this feeling. Not at all.

  I steal a glance at him, my Ginger Boy, the one in his beloved bridge shirt, the one who is enjoying this manual labor even though he could easily afford to have people do everything for him.

  I love you, I think, looking at him. I love the man you are.

  And with this newfound feeling of love, happiness, and excitement for my future, I go to work.

  I gaze out the window of my sewing studio, to the pool. It’s nighttime now, and after an exhausting day of gutting the kitchen, Harrison and I are ending the evening with a relaxing swim under the stars.

  Harrison is already in the pool. I feel my breath catch in my throat. He’s just emerged from being under the water, and he is raking his wet curls back with his hand. The moonlight is hitting his body just right, illuminating his powerful arms and chiseled chest and he looks so sexy in the water I have to remind myself to breathe.

  KNTB, I think. Kylie Needs To Breathe.

  I pick up a towel and go out to meet him. I’m wearing a red, retro-inspired halter bikini top with polka dots and hipster bikini with ties on the sides. I open the door, and Cooper and Lola bolt out ahead of me. I step out, and the second I do Harrison turns and stares at me.

  I feel the butterflies shift in my stomach, as I know he’s taking in how I look in this bikini. It’s quiet on this hot, steamy night, and I only hear the water lapping in the pool and crickets chirping. I walk to the shallow end of the pool and slowly descend the steps into the warm water. After all, with daily temperatures of 100 degrees, the water is anything but cool. But after all that hard work, it actually feels good against my tired muscles.

  Harrison moves over to meet me, and takes my hand as I step into the pool, where the water is hitting me at my waist.

  “You’re breathtaking,” Harrison whispers, taking me into his arms.

  “I can say the same about you,” I say, relishing the feel of his wet skin against mine.

  Harrison kisses me sensually in the water, his lips slowly caressing mine. His wet hands are stroking my face, and I feel water on my cheeks.

  “Now this,” Harrison murmurs against my lips, “is nice.”

  “Mmmm,” I say, kissing him back. “Very nice.”

  Harrison picks me up and I wrap my legs around him.

  “I have a drink for you,” he says, kissing me again.

  I laugh against his lips as I wind my hands around the nape of his neck. “Are you my cabana boy tonight?”

  He laughs loudly and flashes me a huge smile. “For you, Gorgeous? Yes. Hell yes.”

  We both laugh and Harrison carries me over to the other side of the pool, where I see a beer bottle and glass of white wine parked on the deck.

  He puts me down and hands me the glass of wine.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking a sip. Mmmm. It is a lovely Chardonnay and perfectly chilled, just right for a sultry evening outside.

  Harrison picks up his beer bottle and takes a drink, and then puts it back down on the deck. He slides his hands down to my hips, to the ties on my bikini bottom and toys with the strings, which makes every nerve I have jump with desire.

  “I’ve always loved Texas nights,” Harrison says slowly, his fingertips looping around the bikini strings, “but none more than tonight. I didn’t think anything could be hotter than you in my jersey, but this bikini trumps that. You’re wicked sexy this evening.”

  “Thank you,” I say, winding my hands around his lower back.

  “Sorry the water is so hot,” Harrison says, his fingertips stil
l dancing seductively around the edges of my bikini bottom.

  “Harrison, I think the water in this pool tonight was bound to be hot, regardless of the outdoor temperature,” I say flirtatiously.

  “I like your style, Kylie Reed. Have I told you that before?”

  I smile at him. “Tell me again, Harrison Flynn.”

  “I like your style,” he murmurs.

  Then Harrison kisses me again, his hands moving along my hips, my hands skimming his back. Oh, God, this is heaven. I’m convinced of it. Harrison is touching me and kissing me and I never want him to stop. I slide my hands up to his hair, raking it through his wet curls, and I relish the feel of his stubble brushing against my face. Harrison deepens the kiss and I moan against his lips, wanting more of him right now—

  Suddenly I’m aware of lights coming on. I break the kiss and look up over Harrison’s fence. Several lights in the house next door have been turned on upstairs.

  “What’s wrong?” Harrison gasps, cupping my face in his hands.

  I furrow my brow. “Those lights,” I say, gazing over his shoulder.

  Harrison turns and faces the house next door. Then he swings back at me, confusion on his handsome face. “So?”

  “They can see us,” I say. And the idea of that gives me a bit of anxiety. After all, Harrison isn’t your ordinary neighbor. He’s Hockey God Harrison Flynn. People would be interested in seeing what he is doing and who he is doing it with—

  “Should we wave and see if they wave back?” Harrison teases.

  “Harrison, I’m being serious.”

  “Hey,” Harrison says, cupping my face in his hands and staring deeply into my eyes. “Several things are in play here. First, this is Highland Park. Lots of high profile people live here, so I’m not a novelty. Second, nobody knows I bought this house. When they do figure that out, they’re going to see that I’m incredibly boring. Nobody is going to want to watch me carry trash to the dumpster in the driveway. And they will quickly see that the only thing interesting here is that I have a super sexy girlfriend. And despite the fact that I could spend all day staring at you, my guess is my neighbor is upstairs watching TV.”

  I blush furiously from his compliment. “I don’t know about that, but I wish we had more privacy.”

  “I’ll behave out here with you, Kylie, if that would make you more comfortable,” Harrison says, stroking his thumbs up and down my cheekbones. “But I won’t behave when we’re behind closed doors later. That’s a promise.”

  I laugh softly. “I like your style.”

  “So are you okay?”

  I nod. He’s right. I’m overreacting because of being followed by the paparazzi this week, that’s all. “I am.”

  “Good,” Harrison says, grinning at me. “Now where were we? Let me think about this.” Harrison then takes his fingertips and slowly traces them over my lips, sending shivers down my spine. “Ah, yes, I was right here,” he whispers, lowering his lips back on to mine for a slow kiss.

  I melt into his arms. Suddenly all thoughts of the neighbors are wiped away. I surrender my complete attention to Harrison, the man I love.

  And to endless possibilities later tonight.

  Chapter 24

  The Pop Quiz Question: You are dating a celebrity (Congrats!) and you are attempting to go out on your first dinner date in public. How do you think it will go?

  A) I like the attention as much as I like him so score.

  B) I’m anxious about it, but I’m sure it will be fine. People will stare, but he chose me.

  C) I tend to always prepare for the worst, so surely it won’t be as bad as the movie in my head, right?

  I’m sitting on the floor of the master bathroom in the main house, removing hideous pink tiles from the floor with Harrison. My whole body just aches, as the physical labor is so much harder than it looks on Beautiful Homes Network. And I’m dirty and hot and sweat is pouring down my back.

  And I’ve never had so much fun in my life.

  I look over at Harrison. He has the chisel in the grout and is chipping the tiles out over on his side of the bathroom, while I work on mine.

  I mean, how can this not be fun? We’re working together, sharing our visions for the renovated space. It’s just us, alone, and we’re talking about the future and what we can turn this home into. It’s our manual labor, our design, our dreams. We work hard, but laugh and talk and have fun while we do it. And at the end of the day we can play hard, too, as we proved last night . . .

  But I realize for the first time in my life, I am living in the now. My dreams from my folders—clippings and printouts of the home I had in my head—are coming true. Not five years from now. Not when I get the perfect job. But I am actively living a dream with Harrison.

  “Shit, what did they put these tiles down with?” Harrison says, interrupting my thoughts. He grabs his hammer-whack!—and smashes it into the center of a tile, shattering it. “These are a bitch to get out.”

  I love you, I think, watching as he struggles with the floor tile.

  “And why pink?” Harrison continues, oblivious to the romantic musings going on in my head. “This is nauseating.”

  I chuckle at his disgust. “Well, the spa-inspired, gray-colored bathroom I envision here will be much friendlier to your eyes.”

  Harrison flashes me a huge smile. “I love the colors you put together for the master bedroom and bathroom.”

  “I’m glad. I would’ve surprised you, but I wanted your approval, you know?” I say, chipping out a large tile. “But that’s me. No surprises.”

  “Oh, you’re full of surprises, Kylie,” Harrison says, picking up pieces of tile. “You just don’t realize it.”

  Suddenly my cell rings. I grab a towel and wipe my hands. Then I go out into the hallway, where I parked it, and look down at it.

  “That better not be Prince Harry,” Harrison calls out good-naturedly.

  I laugh to myself. Even if it were the real Prince Harry, he wouldn’t have a chance against my Prince Harry.

  “It’s my mom,” I yell back. I answer the phone and walk down the hall a few feet. “Hello?”

  “Hi, honey! How are you?”

  “I’m really good,” I say honestly.

  “Sweetie, I know it’s late notice, but I wanted to see if you could come out to Southlake tonight and meet us for dinner. Brandon and Candace are available, and we were wondering if you were up for Mexican food this evening.”

  I wind my finger anxiously around a lock of my hair. Shit. I really wanted to spend this evening sketching, which is how I usually spend Sundays before I have to get ready to go to work. It relaxes me and puts me in a good frame of mind to take on Monday.

  And I’m dying to sit down in my gorgeous studio, with Harrison reading in his chair, and see what that experience is like with my new tools and him being in the same room with me.

  “Um . . .” I say, trying to figure out a graceful way to exit. “I-”

  “And,” my mom exclaims, “we insist you bring Harrison. It’s about time we meet him, since the entire world knows you are dating him.”

  Fuck. Fuck! My throat grows tight. One, at the thought of everyone knowing what I’m doing thanks to freaking social media and gossip, and two, I know Harrison didn’t want to go out in public much until this nonsense died down.

  “Mom, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I say slowly. “It’s still really new. And we’re trying to stay out of the public eye—”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Kylie. You aren’t out of the public eye. You’ve been posted twice this week alone on the ‘Out and About’ section of Dallas Details!”

  Oh My God. Since I’m avoiding social media, I had no idea I was featured in Dallas Details, a hipster blog of what the cool and famous people of the city
are out doing.

  And what the hell am I doing on it? I’m not doing anything but dating Harrison Flynn.

  Which apparently is enough to make me hip and cool—and paparazzi worthy, as pathetic as that whole scenario is.

  I take a deep breath. “Mom, can we order in and eat at home?” I ask, praying she will do this.

  “Brandon wants to go out, Kylie,” my mother says. “And I’m sure you are making this a bigger deal than it really is, sweetheart.”

  I swallow. Once again, I’m supposed to just go along with everything. Not challenge. And I really don’t want to argue with my parents, who want to meet Harrison for the first time.

  “Let me discuss this with Harrison and I’ll call you back, okay?” I say, capitulating.

  Then I hang up.

  I come back into the bathroom, and Harrison is sitting against a wall, drinking some of his bottled water. I sit down next to him and reach for his hand, entwining his fingers in mine.

  “My family wants us to meet them for dinner tonight,” I say quietly. “I know it’s really soon for that. And I completely understand if you aren’t comfortable—”

  “No, not at all,” Harrison says. Then he furrows his brow. “Unless you think it’s too soon for me to meet them, that is.”

  “No,” I say, “I’m excited to introduce you to them, Harrison. But . . . they want to meet at a Mexican restaurant in Southlake. At 7.”

  I study Harrison’s face. His eyes flicker, and I instantly know he hates this idea.

  “Oh fuck,” Harrison says, rubbing his hand over his face. Then he draws a breath and exhales. “I really didn’t want to throw you into the fishbowl this soon.”

  I nod. “I know,” I say softly. And I love you for wanting to protect me like that.

  “But your family is important to you,” Harrison says, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand back and forth. “So therefore, they’re important to me. And if you want to do this Kylie, I’ll do it. I just hope . . .” Harrison pauses for a moment, then continues. “. . . I just hope after tonight you won’t change your mind about me,” he says quietly.