Take a Chance (Chance, #1; Rosemary Beach #7)(52)

Not what I’d been expecting her to say. Again, Harlow wasn’t like the other girls I knew. Also, we needed to discuss that “exclusive” comment. Because lunch with Adam was one thing, but I’d be damned if she intended to go out with that prick again. “What Nan said was mean and bitter. You didn’t like it and that’s normal. As for exclusive, I am very, very exclusive. Since yesterday on that plane, I knew I wasn’t touching anybody else.”

Harlow tilted her head to the side and studied me silently. Had she thought I was going to go screw other people now? Really? Was my reputation that bad?

“Okay” was all she said. If there one was thing about Harlow that drove me nuts, it was her one-word answers, like “okay,” when I wanted a few lengthy sentences. Dammit. Girls liked to hear themselves talk. Why didn’t she?

“Could you elaborate on that?” I asked, reaching over to take her hand in her lap because I just needed to touch her.

The corner of her mouth turned up. “What else do you want me to say? You aren’t going to sleep with anyone else while we’re doing . . . this thing we’re doing. And I won’t have lunch with anyone else,” she replied.

I needed more than that. “Lunch? That’s it?”

She shrugged. “It isn’t like you have to worry about me sleeping with anyone else. I don’t do that.”

No, she didn’t. And damned if that didn’t make me want to pull her into my lap and growl at anyone who looked her way like a damn dog with a bone. “Dates?” I asked. She’d been on a date with Adam.

She frowned. “I said no lunch. That meant dates, too.”

“Just wanted to clarify,” I told her, and leaned over to press a kiss to her lips. I had sat here and stared at them long enough. My eyes lifted and I saw Woods and Rush watching me. They were enjoying this a little too much.

Harlow

Grant’s apartment was just outside Rosemary. It was small and I was surprised by that, but then again I wasn’t. His place looked like him. The furniture was worn and it was everything a bachelor pad should be, from the dartboard on the wall to the empty pizza boxes on the counter.

“I should’ve cleaned up before I brought you here,” he said, walking up behind me. I stepped back until I was touching him.

“I like it just like this,” I replied.

Grant’s head dipped to my shoulder and he kissed my neck. “And why is that?” he asked.

“Because it’s you. It’s comfortable and real.”

Grant’s arms came around me and held me. “I don’t know if I want you thinking of me as comfortable. That sounds real close to boring.”

Grant was anything but boring. “Well, you’re not that.”

He moved a hand down to the bottom of my skirt and tugged it up. “I feel the need to prove just how exciting I can be,” he whispered in my ear.

I didn’t want what we were doing to be all about sex. I wanted something deeper than that. But then maybe that was what Grant wanted. I liked it . . . no, I loved it. He made me feel amazing, but was that all we would ever be? When this was over, would I have been just another girl he had sex with? Or would he remember me for other things?

“You tensed up. What’s wrong?” he asked.

Nan’s words replayed in my head. He would get bored with me. He would want something exciting. Was she the exciting one he wanted? Did I even want to be that? I wanted Grant. Who wouldn’t want Grant? That was a given.

I had always been boring. I was sick of being boring. I was sick of being forgettable. No. I wouldn’t bore Grant. When we ended it, it would be mutual, not because I’d been the boring prude that Nan accused me of being.

I reached for his hand and slipped it up higher as I spread my legs.

“Make me forget the image of you on that counter with Nan,” I told him boldly.

Grant looked pained, and he moved his hand from between my legs and cupped my face instead. “I’ve already forgotten it. I’m sorry she said that to you.”

He was taking care of me again. Treating me as if I would break. I shook my head. “No. I haven’t forgotten. I can’t get it out of my head. I don’t like thinking about you and Nan together. I’m jealous that she had you first. I want to be more . . . I don’t want to be forgettable.”

Grant scowled. “You could never be forgettable. You’ve claimed me in ways Nan never did. Nothing about you, Harlow . . . nothing is forgettable. Don’t ever think that.”

His words were always so sweet. His way with words was his greatest talent. “Then do this for me. I want to see a kitchen counter and remember us on it. Not you and Nan. That hurts too bad.”

A low growl came from Grant’s chest and he grabbed my panties and pulled them down, “I can’t stand the idea of you ever hurting because of me. I f**king hate that. I want to make you happy. I wish I’d never been with anyone before you.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ll make you forget it but know that I forgot every other woman I’ve ever been with the moment I slid inside you the first time.”

Before I could react, he ran a finger along the edge of my heat. “Do you know why she told you about the counter?” he asked in a husky voice that always made me shiver.

Yes. To hurt me. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I shook my head.