“Harlow. You’ve got another room to clean,” the woman said.
Harlow gasped and scrambled out from under him. “I’m, uh, coming,” she called.
“In more ways than one,” he muttered. He removed the condom and tied it off. “I’ll dress and we can head home.” He wanted to hold her. He wanted to feel her breath against his skin, and share secrets into the darkest part of the night.
“No way. You heard her. I have to get back to work.” She tugged on her clothing.
He gave a single shake of his head. “You’re coming back to work for me.”
“Sure. I’ll continue my work on the character sketches, but I’ll start after my shifts at the inn. I like standing on my own two feet, and besides that, I refuse to leave Dottie in the lurch.”
He gnashed his molars. My fault. More work for her meant less time for him. “What about us? I’m in this thing one hundred percent.”
She smoothed the wrinkles from her top, plucked the ponytail holder from the floor and combed back her hair, taming it in a knot on top of her head. “I am, too, but we’re going to have to take it a day at a time.”
What the hell? He didn’t like having his words thrown back at him. “Let’s take it a week—a month—at a time.”
She smiled at him, soft and sweet and a little sad, but she didn’t back down. “I don’t want to hurt you again, and I certainly don’t want you to hurt me. We need to learn more about each other and actually, you know, date or something. I mean, we’ve slept together twice, but we’ve never even gone out.”
“That’s not true. We’ve been dating ever since you stole my pie.” But he got where she was coming from. She’d shared bits and pieces about her past, but there was still so much he didn’t know about her. Did she hope to have kids? Or would that be another wrench in their relationship?
“While you took all your randoms to dinner, you’ve never taken me anywhere. Like I’m an embarrassment or something.” A tremor in her voice.
He’d hurt her. However unintentionally, he’d hurt her. “I’m taking you out tonight. Don’t make any other plans.”
She sighed. “Doesn’t have to be tonight. I’m not trying to rush you, Beck. Not anymore.”
“Tonight,” he insisted. “And every night after.”
Another sad smile. “I’m not hogging all your spare time, and I’m not putting a label on us. Not officially.”
“No label?” He exploded. “That’s what you’ve been pushing for since day one.”
“Girls are allowed to change their minds.”
He was in her face a second later, practically breathing fire. “Do you plan to see other men?”
“No.” Her glare was sharp enough to cut glass. “Will you see other women?”
“No,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t. I have no desire for anyone else.”
“Even though I won’t be sleeping with you again? Not until we’re labeled?”
He unveiled his slowest, wickedest grin. “Think to hold out on me, do you, baby? We’ll see how long you last now that you know what it’s like to be filled. We might have scratched an itch today, but you’ll be begging for me soon enough.”
She returned his grin, a woman who’d come to learn the power she held, making his gut twist. “Or you’ll be begging for me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HARLOW EMERGED FROM the room, spotted Dottie leaning against the wall, fanning her flushed cheeks, and blushed. There wasn’t time to issue a warning—cover your eyes...or not, yeah, probably not—before Beck came up behind Harlow wearing only a towel. He pushed something into her pocket.
“Your phone,” he said, and nipped her earlobe. “As my girlfriend, it’s your duty—no, your honor—to send me hourly—half-hourly—reports about your day. I’ll be waiting. And yes, I just labeled you.”
Tingles pricked the back of her neck. “It’s only a label if I accept it. And are you sure you want to know about the joys of scrubbing toilets?”
“More than anything. I’ll prepare to be riveted.”
Pulling away from him might have been the toughest thing she’d ever done, but she managed it.
“I want one of those,” Dottie said as Harlow closed the door, ensuring Beck wouldn’t overhear the rest. “I moved to the city for a few years and got married, but we divorced after only six months. If there’s a trick to keeping a guy like that, you have to tell me.”
“There’s no trick.” She hooked her arm through Dottie’s and led her down the hall. “If being yourself isn’t enough, the guy isn’t worth your time.” As Dottie’s shoulders slumped with disappointment, Harlow said, “You’re amazing. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. Now. Do you have a particular guy in mind?”
A blush stained Dottie’s cheeks.
“You do! Who is it?”
The girl pressed her lips together in a firm line.
“You can trust me, you know,” Harlow said. “I’m not going to use the information against you. I’ve learned my lesson about treating people that way, and I would honestly rather die as some zombie’s dinner.”
Dottie took a deep breath before admitting softly, “Daniel Porter.”
“He’s a good choice, though I happen to know he’s a bit commitment-shy. But who knows? You could be the girl to win him over, and he is currently single.” Jessie Kay had moved on, Brook Lynn said.