I can’t wait to hear what else she’s dug up.
Chapter 6
Wade
I take my share of teasing over the next two hours. Kelsey excused herself not too long after we arrived, and I’ve been out back with Walt and Dad, just shooting the shit. Exactly like I’d hoped for. Dad wants to hear more about the endorsement deal I landed and if I’m stretching and keeping fit enough in the off-season. If any of the rumors about Baxter stepping into a coaching role are true.
For a guy whose heart broke the day I stopped throwing spirals, my dad is behind me in my hockey career one hundred percent.
Damn, it’s nice to be home.
But it’s almost four and I want to give Harlow a break this afternoon. Heading in, I find her sitting with my mom and Janie, checking out baby pics, all three of them shoulder to shoulder, talking a mile a minute. The sound of her laughter-laced chatter and coos almost makes me hesitant to go. My mom lifts her head and, catching me behind her, holds up the baby book for me.
“See how cute you were!”
“Potty training?” I choke, seeing not just my bare baby ass, but the twig and berries too.
The smile on Harlow’s face is pure delight as I come around the couch. I take her hand and pull her up and into my side. She’s not quite sure what to do with the fit, but after a beat of holding her arms stiffly at her sides, she eases into it, one arm sliding around my back.
Her body angles and her tits sort of nestle right up against my ribs.
It’s not a big deal. It’s just the way we’re standing. Like a couple… even though we aren’t one.
She didn’t grab my junk.
Her tongue isn’t in my ear.
But damn, that soft press of curves feels good, and it takes everything I have not to use my arm to squeeze her in even closer.
This girl is doing me a favor on the condition I’m a nice guy not out to take advantage of her while she’s isolated here in the middle of freaking nowhere.
Okay, it’s not quite that extreme, but I’m not going to be a douche.
So, holding my arm so it’s grazing her shoulders but not pressing in, I clear my throat.
“We’re going to run over to the hotel to check in and drop our bags. What’s the plan for tonight?”
Mom tells us to meet back at six because half the town is coming over.
I haven’t even started the engine before Harlow’s twisted around in her seat, leaning into the space between us, hands clasped in a tight, neat bundle in her lap. “Tell me. That was pretty good, right?”
She’s adorable.
“Oh yeah, very good.” Gravel crunches under the tires as I follow the loop out. “And how the hell did you know about the Ridge?”
She scoffs, sitting back. “Research. If I take on a project, I want to be prepared.”
“I’m getting that about you.” I steal a glance over, admiring the light in her eyes and the glow of her cheeks. “So it wasn’t too bad?”
“Not at all. You were right about your parents. They’re easy to like.”
It shouldn’t matter, but it does. “Glad to hear it.”
Harlow peppers me with questions for the next few miles into town, about me, about my family. Every time I give her an answer, I see her filing the information away. But this thing only works if it goes both ways. And hell, I just want to know more about her.
I hit my signal and pull into the drive heading up to the Picket Inn. “Once we get to our room, it’s your turn on the hot seat.”
I’m expecting some bring it attitude coming back at me, but instead I get a strained, “Our room? There’s just one?”
Shit.
The lot’s mostly empty. Parking in a spot close to the lobby, I rub the back of my neck. “I got us two beds. It’s a suite. But—hell, I’m sorry. I guess I figured two rooms wouldn’t really sell the committed serious couple thing and didn’t think to check with you.” I should have.
She looks out the window, back down to Main Street, and then to the doors in front of us. “Word travels fast around the sports celebrity?”
I laugh because there’s that subtle emphasis again. From the first night in the club, any time she says it, it’s like there are air quotes around it.
“Word travels fast about everything around here. But especially Bill and Grace’s sons. My parents are bigger celebrities in this town than I am. Prom king and queen, varsity football and cheerleading coaches.”
“And you think someone from the hotel might talk if we had separate rooms?”
No might about it. They’d definitely talk. But it doesn’t matter. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Harlow. I can get another room.” And if, against all odds, they don’t have one, I’ll stay in the truck. I can’t stay back at my house with Kelsey there.
“No.” It’s like she’s trying it on for size. But then she turns to me, more relaxed. “No way are we going to give up the game on day one. You caught me by surprise, but it’s not like we’re sharing a bed. I’m good.”
I come around to help her down. “Promise you’ll let me know if that changes?”
“Promise.”
She hops out of the truck. Our bags are in the backseat, and when I go for the door, my hand brushes hers as she does the same.
“Sorry,” we both mutter, then proceed to do the very same thing again.
She has really soft skin.
Our eyes meet, a beat passes, and then we both laugh, and hell, it just feels good.
I shake my head, this time catching her hand on purpose and guiding it away from the door. “Big, strong jock here. Let the ego have a little something, yeah?”
She rolls her eyes and steps back. “A little something? Ha. I have the feeling your ego is pretty well-fed.”
“You know, you’d think that, right? But funny thing. Not so much since I met you.” I throw the strap of her bag over one shoulder and mine over the other, grabbing her smaller tote in my hand. “Poor guy is starving over here.”
She gives me the huff of laughter I’m going for. Then, “Wade, I’m so impressed with how you handle all three of those bags. I’ve never encountered such a manly show of strength.”
Jesus, I can feel him shriveling. But she’s not done.
“I might faint, I’m so overwhelmed by the testosterone in the air.” Fanning herself, she asks, “If I go down, will you be able to carry me too?”
Yes. And hell, if there was any truth to her being mine, I’d already have her over my shoulder, giving that perfect round ass a spank for the mouth she’s giving me. But she’s not. She’s doing me a favor. And not the kind that involves going down.
Why did she have to say it that way?
Shouldering in through the front door of the hotel, I come face-to-face with Mr. Peterman.
This guy has been giving me the stink eye since I was old enough to walk, and I’ve never figured out why. Or why I care. But here I am, shifting where I stand as he gives me a grizzled scowl from the check-in desk.
“Name?”
“Wade Grady.” Like he doesn’t know. He keeps staring, irritation evident in every breath. “Reservation through next Sunday.”