Chapter 6

Harmony

“SAID I’D GIVE HER YOUR message,” I hear Harlen clip angrily as I walk toward the kitchen, where I left him a little over fifteen minutes ago so I could go get changed for work. “Yeah, and I said I’d tell her,” he growls as I round the island. Sensing me like he always does, his head turns toward me and our eyes lock. “Yeah, later.” He pulls his cell phone from his ear and drops it to the top of the counter near his hip.

“Who was that?” I ask, seeing the pissed off look on his face and knowing the answer before he even opens his mouth to tell me who was on the phone.

“Your dad says you need to call him back, that if you don’t, you won’t like the consequences.”

“He said that?” I whisper, feeling annoyance turn my stomach, and his face softens.

“Babe, I get why you haven’t talked to him, but you need to speak to him.”

“I’m not ready to talk to him yet,” I say, tying my hair up into a ponytail, and he takes a step toward me, wrapping his hand around my hip and giving it a squeeze.

“It’s been a week, Angel,” he tells me, something I already know, since it’s the longest I’ve ever gone without talking to my dad. It’s been exactly seven days since my mom came over and stayed for an impromptu waffle breakfast cooked by Harlen. If he hadn’t already won my mom over, I know his waffles would have done the trick. They’re that good. My dad, however, is a whole other story. He’s called; I haven’t answered. He’s kept calling; I’ve kept ignoring him, which I know is pissing him off. But I need time to figure out how to deal with him without losing my mind and saying something I’ll regret. “Seriously, baby, it’s time,” he continues when I don’t reply.

“Whose side are you on?” I narrow my eyes on his and he grins, showing off his perfectly straight smile.

“Your side,” he says, pulling me against him. “That said, you still need to speak with your dad.”

“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll tell him to meet me for coffee tomorrow.”

“Good.” He dips his head, brushing his mouth over mine. “You want me to go with you when you talk to him?”

“Will you beat him up if I ask you to?” I question, and he chuckles like I’m joking—which I’m not, since my dad might actually need some sense knocked into him.

“No.”

“Then no, since you’re going to be of no use to me,” I mutter, and he gathers me against him and shoves his face into my neck, laughing so hard my body shakes with the force of it. “It’s not really that funny.” I smile, and he gives me a squeeze and gets control of himself before pulling his face out of my neck to look at me, running his fingers along the apple of my cheek.

“Before you leave for work, pack a bag. We’re staying at my place tonight,” he orders, and I blink at him.

“Your place?”

“Yeah, the place I’m paying rent on, where I keep my clothes and get my mail. My place.”

“I forgot you don’t actually live with me,” I mumble, and his arms tighten around me. My eyes widen and I hurry out, “I mean, I know you don’t live with me, obviously, but—”

“Babe, shut up,” he cuts me off, smiling, and I glare at him.

“Don’t tell me to shut up, Harlen,” I snap, and he smiles.

“You okay with staying at my place?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He brushes his nose across mine. Gah! I really hate when he’s annoying and sweet.

“Can Dizzy come?” I keep my tone snippy to cover up how much I love him being sweet, and his smile turns into a grin.

“Yeah.”

“Then yes,” I agree.

“Good, I’ll pick up Dizzy when I get off work and take him to my place.”

“How? Do you have one of those fancy white baskets with yellow plastic daises on it for him to ride in on your bike?”

“No, smart ass, but I do own an SUV.”

“You do?” I question, surprised, and he brushes his lips against mine.

“It’s parked up for the summer, but yeah, I’ve got an SUV.”

“Hm.”

“Go pack your bag then come kiss me before you leave for work.”

“You know what you can do?” I ask scrunching up my nose, watching his eyes crinkle in the corners like he’s trying not to laugh.

“No, what’s that?”

“You can stop bossing me around.”

“You like it when I’m bossy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I do,” I deny, and he dips his head and brushes his lips over my ear.

“Yeah, baby, I know you do. Whenever I’m bossy, you don’t just get wet; you get drenched, and your pussy latches onto me, to whatever part of me it’s gotten ahold of.”

“Whatever.” I fight back a shiver, listening to him chuckle before he places a kiss against the shell of my ear and neck.

“Go, and then come back and kiss me.”

“Maybe I will; maybe I won’t.” I pull from his hold and head for my room. I pack a bag then take it with me, dropping it by the door before heading back to the kitchen. “I’ll see you tonight.” I lift my hand and wave, and his eyes narrow on me across the island.

“You better get your ass over here and kiss me.”

“And if I don’t?” I raise a brow, holding his stare while crossing my arms over my chest.

“Do you really wanna find out?”

“Maybe.” I shrug, and his eyes darken, causing me to brace.

“You feel like playing, baby? I got no problem with that. I’ll like the consequences of it, and so will you… after I finally give you what you want. But believe me, I’ll make you work for it before that happens,” he warns gruffly, and my nipples harden while the space between my legs tingles with anticipation. “What’s it gonna be?”

Without a word, and without telling myself to do it, I grab my purse and launch off the island, and turn for the door where I dropped my overnight bag. Picking it up, I hook it over my shoulder then look behind me to see Harlen has moved to the mouth of the living room, his dark, heated eyes on me. Swallowing, I pull open the door and leave, knowing I’m playing with fire.

***

“Harmony,” Dr. Hofstadter says, startling me as I walk out of one of my patients’ rooms. I stumble over my own feet, falling into him and letting out a squeak when he grabs hold of my hips to steady me. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He laughs, squeezing my waist pulling me against him, and I fight back a shiver of revulsion as I push against his chest to free myself from his embrace.

“It’s okay.” I quickly take a step back out of his space. “Did you need something?”

“Did you read over the details I left for Ms. Robinson?” he asks, referring to my patient who had hip surgery early this morning.

“I did. Has there been a change made to her care plan?” I question, looking over her information on my cart, and I feel him get close to my side. Too close, so close his body brushes mine.

“No, actually, I’m just using that as an excuse to speak with you alone,” he says, and I look at him, feeling my stomach drop as he dips his chin and lowers his voice. “I wanted to see if you’d like to get dinner with me tomorrow.”

Shit.

“I… um… That’s really sweet, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” I shake my head, watching something shift in his gaze, that something making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“If it’s about policy, I won’t tell if you won’t,” he whispers, and the soup I had for lunch turns in my stomach.

“Harmony,” Mimi calls loudly before I can tell him that I have a boyfriend, and I turn my head to look at her, hearing Dr. Hofstadter let out an audible huff of frustration from my side. “Do you mind helping me?” She asks.

“Sure.” I smile at her then turn to look at Dr. Hofstadter, and mutter, “Sorry, I gotta work.” I drop my gaze from his, lock up my cart, and head down the hall toward Mimi, who doesn’t move until I’m at her side. “Thank you,” I murmur under my breath once I’m close.

“I see you’re having trouble staying off his radar,” she whispers back, and I let out a sigh. “What did he want this time?”

“He asked me out,” I tell her as we enter her patient’s room, and she takes hold of my arm, stopping me along with her just outside view of her patient.

“You should tell HR about that.”

“Tell them what? That he makes me feel weird and that he asked me out?” I shake my head.

She looks over my shoulder toward the open door before meeting my gaze once more. “I think you should make a formal complaint so it’s in your file. That way, if anything happens, you’re protected, and it’s not his word against yours.”

“I just started working here. I don’t want to make enemies,” I explain gently, and she shakes her head, reaching out and grabbing my arm again.

“Promise you’ll go to HR if he doesn’t stop.” She pleads.

“Is there something I should know?” I ask, seeing the look in her eyes, and she shakes her head.

“I’ve just heard rumors about him,” she whispers, holding my gaze. “What I’ve heard, I don’t like very much.”

My heart plummets. “What rumors?”

“Just that he’s played a few nurses and they’ve ended up losing their jobs while he kept his.”

“Really?”

“We’ve been here the same amount of time, which isn’t long. I don’t know any of those nurses or if those rumors are true. All I’m saying is be careful when it comes to him.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promise her, and she nods, still looking worried, but there is nothing I can do right now to assure her that things will be okay. “Did you really need my help?”

“Yeah, I need to start a catheter,” she mutters, and then without another word, she leads me into the room and introduces me to her patient. Once I’m done helping her, I go back to my cart and finish passing out meds. After that, I finish up my charts until it’s time for me to go home, and thankfully, I don’t see Dr. Hofstadter again.

***

Pulling up in front of Harlen’s apartment at twenty after eleven, I park in the empty space next to his bike, and before I even have a chance to shut down the engine, I watch Harlen come out of his apartment on the first floor. The moment our eyes lock through my windshield and I see the look in his, my stomach fills with butterflies and my mind swirls with doubts about my play this morning. I should have kissed him before I left. When he opens my door, I hold my breath as he reaches across me, skimming my nipples with the back of his hand before unhooking my seat belt.

“Hand me your bags,” he orders, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

I swallow from the intensity in his stare. “Harlen—”

“Hand me your bags, baby.” Blindly, I reach over and grab my overnight bag, purse, and lunch sack from the passenger seat, handing all three to him. “Come on.” He holds out his hand toward me and I hesitate. “Harmony.” I hear the warning in his tone, so I place my hand in his, allowing him to pull me from the car. The second I clear the door, he slams it closed and drags me with him toward his apartment.

“Harlen, I…”

I stop speaking when his eyes come to me, and he growls, “You made your choice this morning. Now I get to play.” He opens the door to his apartment, and before he even has it shut behind us, he presses me against the wall, his big body pinning me in place. Absently, I hear my bags hit the floor as his mouth crashes down on mine, and I whimper as he takes hold of my wrists, dragging them high above my head, so high I’m forced to stand on the tips of my toes. Taking both my wrists in one of his big hands, he holds them there while his mouth devours mine. His free hand squeezes one breast then the other before sliding down my stomach, straight into my panties.

The moment two of his fingers thrust into me, I whimper into his mouth, “Please.”

“Haven’t even gotten my mouth on you and you’re already drenched and begging for it.” He nips my chin, then my neck while working me over, two fingers thrusting deep while his thumb circles my clit. My head thrashes and my legs start to give out from under me as my pussy starts to convulse around him. “No,” he growls, removing his fingers and cupping my sex, and my eyes fly open.

“I—” Before I can say anything, his mouth captures mine again and his fingers thrust deep, sending my back sliding up the wall.

“Fuck, do you know how much I love this fucking pussy?” he asks against my mouth, and I moan, digging my head back against the wall. “I’ll be working, and all of a sudden, I’ll think about it—how tight it is, how wet it is, how fucking good it tastes, and I have to fight myself from going hard.” He groans, and my pussy starts to clamp around his fingers once more, and just like before, he removes them, making me cry out in frustration.

“Harlen, please,” I beg, and his eyes lock on mine. “Please make me come.”

“How do you want me to make you come, Angel?” he asks, and I swallow.

“However you want,” I whisper, and he smiles a scary smile at me then pulls me from the wall and picks me up. Carrying me down the hall to his room, he sets me on my feet at the side of his bed, and orders, “Clothes off, on the bed, and spread those legs for me.” Studying him, my chest rising and falling quickly, I hesitate while I watch him get undressed. “Now,” he commands.

Pulling off my top, I drop it to the floor, kick off my sneakers, drag off my pants and panties, and then reach back to take off my bra. Once it’s added to the pile on the floor and I’m completely naked, I sit on the bed then pull myself back with my hands behind me, lying back.

“Open up for me,” he growls. Swallowing, I watch him wrap his hand around his cock as I spread my legs, and his eyes drop to my center, turning even darker. “Fuck, but you really are beautiful everywhere. Even your pussy is pretty.” He reaches out one finger, sliding it over my clit and causing my hips to buck into his touch. “Your clit is just begging me to play with it,” he says thickly, holding me open and blowing across my wet sex.

“Oh God,” I gasp, and he licks, circling my clit with his tongue. Grabbing hold of his hair, I raise my hips higher into his mouth and he locks his lips around my clit, sucking hard. My back arches and my eyes slide closed as a breathless “Yes!” leaves my mouth. Grinding myself against him, I start to come, but then cry out when his mouth leaves me and he flips me to my belly.

“You on birth control?” he asks as he crawls up onto the bed behind me, and I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder, locking my eyes with his.

“Yes,” I whisper, and without any warning, he pulls my hips up and thrusts into me from behind, doing it so hard that my hands slide out in front of me and my ass tips back toward him. My head flies and my hands knot in the bedding as he rides me hard and fast, sending me spiraling closer to an orgasm that I know will be the death of me.

Trying to be quiet so he doesn’t know I’m about to come, I cry out in despair as he flips me to my back and plunges into me, tossing my leg over his shoulder and wrapping his hand around my inner thigh to hold me open. “You don’t get to come until I feel like making you come.” He nips my bottom lip, and I dig my nails into his back, listening to him groan in approval. “So fucking hot, and tight.” He slams into me, and my head thrashes as he builds me up and knocks me down over and over again, bringing me to the edge but never pushing me over.

Feeling tears well in my eyes, I lift my mouth to his. “Please, honey, please stop teasing me. I can’t take anymore,” I whisper hoarsely, and he studies me for a moment before his fingers go to work on my clit.

“You wanna come?” he asks, slowing his strokes but speeding up his thumb on my clit, and I nod.

“Yes, please.”

“So fucking sweet.” He drops his mouth to mine and quickens his thrusts along with his thumb on my clit. He drinks every single whimper and sound I make down his throat then pulls his mouth from mine. “Come for me, Angel,” he orders, and I let go, not even realizing I had been holding on, waiting for him to tell me it was okay.

The feeling is sudden. My body shakes and my mind splinters as I come hard listening to him grunt, feeling his hips jerk erratically before he plants himself deep inside of me and comes himself. Breathing heavy, my heart thunders hard against my rib cage, and my legs and arms tighten around him. I hold on, needing him to keep me tethered to earth so I don’t fly away.

Gathering me against him, he rolls us until I’m sprawled out over his chest, and his fingers lazily run down the damp skin on my back, making me shiver. “Cold?” he questions, and I shake my head, feeling my eyes get heavy. “You okay?”

Still unable to talk, I nod against his chest and tighten my hold on him, listening to his breathing even out and his heartbeat return to normal.

“I should clean up,” I whisper, and his hold on me tightens.

“I’ll clean you up.” He kisses the top of my head then rolls us to our sides, pulling out of me gently. He scoots down the mattress, placing a kiss to my stomach then my hip before getting off the bed. He tosses a blanket over me, and I lose sight of him when my eyes slide closed, too heavy to keep open any longer.

A few minutes later, I feel a wet cloth between my legs, and my eyes open to meet his warm gaze. “I think you killed me,” I tell him, and he smiles, bending to kiss my bare shoulder, neck, and then lips. “Death by orgasm,” I continue, and he laughs, tossing the wet rag toward the open bathroom door. I hear it land with a soggy plop as he gets into bed with me and pulls me against his side. “Just so you know, I might not ever kiss you again before I leave for work.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m not joking,” I inform him, lifting my head to look at him.

He runs his fingers through my hair, studying me as something works in his beautiful eyes, something that makes me want to hold onto him a little tighter. “As much as I enjoyed what we just did, I need you to kiss me before you leave.”

The gently spoken demand makes my heart clench in my chest. “I…” I want to ask him why, but I don’t. Instead, I whisper, “Okay,”

“Okay.” He dips his chin and kisses my forehead, asking there, “You hungry?”

“A little.”

“Want me to make you a sandwich?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll be back. Gonna take Dizzy out one more time. You rest.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s been busy checking out my place since he got here.” He tucks some hair behind my ear and I nod, not at all surprised that Dizzy is more interested in exploring than greeting me. “Be back.” He kisses my forehead before sliding out of bed. I watch him put on his jeans without his boxers and pull his tee over his head. Once he’s dressed, he turns on the TV and hands me the remote before disappearing.

Lying in his bed, cocooned in his scent, I stare at the TV, pondering what that was about—the kiss. I wonder if it had something to do with losing his parents. I haven’t spoken to him about them since the day he told me they passed when he was young. I should talk to him about it; I know I should. I just don’t know how to bring it up. When I hear the front door open and close, I get up out of bed and go grab my overnight bag, which he moved to the couch in the living room. I drop it to the end of his bed and get out my nightgown and a pair of panties. Going into the bathroom, I take care of business and get dressed.

When I walk back into his bedroom, retying my hair, I stop dead. His room at the compound might be dirty and gross, but his room here is clean and surprisingly well put together. A black leather headboard with brushed metal grommets nailed into the material is a focal point in the room. Black nightstands sit on either side of the bed, with brushed metal lamps on top of each. A dresser against the wall by the door is also black with a dark blue and silver bowl on top, where he obviously drops all the odds and ends from his pockets. Looking at his bedding, which I know is soft, I realize it matches that bowl. It’s the same dark blue with silver, but with cream running through it in a horizontal stripe. The walls are bare, but they don’t really need anything on them. The headboard is high enough to look like a piece of art, and the curtains he has up give the room a finished look.

Hearing the front door open, I realize I’ve been standing in his bedroom taking everything in for a while. Looking around, I spy one of his flannel shirts, so I grab it, slip it on over my nightgown, and then head for the living room. As soon as Dizzy spots me, he runs across the room and I bend, scooping him up and kissing the top of his head.

“Did you call your dad?” Harlen asks from the kitchen, and I turn to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m meeting him for coffee at eleven tomorrow morning.”

“Good.” He smiles softly at me then goes back to making me a sandwich.

I walk into the living room. The furniture isn’t as nice as in his bedroom, but it’s still nice and really great quality. A black leather sectional with deep, wide cushions is situated in front of a black low-profile coffee table, where a beer bottle and remote are sitting. On the wall is the biggest TV I have ever seen in my life. Just like the bedroom, there is no art on the walls, but there are a few pictures in nice frames on an entertainment stand under the TV. I set Dizzy down on the couch then walk across the room to get a closer look at the photos.

I pick the biggest one up, and my heart clenches the same way it did earlier. Without asking, I know the man and woman in the photo are his parents. His dad looks so much like him that it’s almost startling, with the same dark hair, beautiful dark eyes, same smile, and build. Wearing a plaid button-down and jeans, his arm is thrown around a tallish woman with dark hair. The sun above them shines down, highlighting the deep red undertones in her hair. Her face is turned up in profile, smiling at her husband, her hand resting on his stomach. Her body is tucked close to his side. Seeing them, my eyes start to burn and my breath goes funny.

“My mom and dad,” Harlen says, and I feel a tear slide down my cheek, watching it land on the photo, and I quickly swipe the drop away. “Christ, baby.” His voice is gruff as he gathers me against his big frame, and a sob rips up the back of my throat. He takes the photo from me, sets it down, and then picks me up, carrying me to the couch and settling me sideways in his lap. “Please don’t cry.”

“They look so happy,” I whisper, trying to get myself under control.

“They were happy. I never saw them argue. Mom used to bicker, but Dad thought that shit was cute. He used to laugh about it, which would make her laugh.”

“What happened to them?” I ask, lifting my head to look at him, and his body gets tight under me. Feeling that, I tuck my face against his neck. “Never mind. Forget I asked.” I wrap my arms around his middle, ignoring the disappointment I feel while listening to him pull in a deep breath.

“It was right before Christmas,” he begins, and my muscles bunch. “I was out with friends. My parents never locked the door. A guy walked right into the house while Mom and Dad were upstairs. The guy was in the middle of cleaning out the gifts from under the tree, when my dad confronted him. All Dad had was a baseball bat. Didn’t know the guy was armed. He shot Dad twice in the chest. Mom was hiding, but when she heard the shots, she came out, and since he didn’t want to leave a witness, he killed her too.

“God,” I breathe, closing my eyes as the pain for him wraps around my heart and lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I’m so, so sorry,” I choke out, knowing that isn’t even an adequate word. Him losing his parents was bad enough. Him losing them the way he did, is tragic. “Please tell me they caught the guy.”

“They caught him. He tried to pawn the necklace Dad got Mom for Christmas. I was with him when he bought it, so I knew it was missing and put a description in the report. Cops were able to track and catch him, since he used his ID with the pawn shop.”

“Good,” I whisper, tucking my face into his neck when I realize his history is exactly why he flipped out about my door not being locked the first time he came over to my house. “You were still a kid when you lost them,” I say after a moment, and he pulls my face out of his neck and runs his thumbs under my eyes, swiping away the wetness there.

“I was a kid, but lucky for me, my mom’s sister, Patricia, lived in the same town, so I went to live with her. She wasn’t a replacement for my parents, but we were close, and losing them brought us closer. We’re still tight; she comes to visit often. That’s why I had to get this place. She wasn’t cool with sleeping at the compound.”

“I bet not.” I scrunch up my face, and he smiles then shakes his head.

“She knows about you,” he tells me quietly, and my heart squeezes.

“What?” I whisper.

He slides his fingers across my cheek and up into my hair. “Like I said, we’re close. She knows about you, has known about you for a while now.”

“Will I get to meet her?”

“She’ll be here at Christmas, so yeah.” He nods, and my stomach dips.

“Awesome.”

“Yeah, awesome.” He smiles then leans in, kissing my forehead. “As much as I enjoy having you in my lap, you need to eat and we need to get to bed. I got work tomorrow.”

“Right,” I agree, but I don’t move. I lock my arms around him. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had years to deal with their loss. Sucks sometimes when something good happens in my life and I don’t get to share it with them, but I’m okay.”

“Promise?” I press, and his face softens.

“Promise, baby.”

“Okay.”

He dips his face close to mine. “You all right?” he asks, and I feel my face match his softness.

“You are, so yeah, I am.” I run my fingers down the column of his throat. “I hurt for you and all you lost, but as long as you’re okay, I’m okay. But if you ever feel like talking to anyone, I’m here.”

“So damn sweet,” he murmurs, then his mouth is on mine, his lips firm and demanding while still being sweet and soft.

Running my hands through his hair, I hold on and kiss him back, trying to pour into that kiss how deeply I feel for him, how much I’ve come to care about him, and how happy I am that he’s mine. When he pulls away and our eyes lock, I swear I see my feelings staring right back at me.

“Come on.” He helps me stand then leads me into the kitchen, handing me a can of Sprite. He picks up a plate with a sandwich and chips, taking it with us back to his bedroom. Dizzy, who has made himself comfortable on the bed, pops his head up to look at us, but quickly lays it back down, closing his eyes.

I get into bed and open my soda then settle my plate on my lap before picking up the remote. “What do you want to watch?” I ask, watching him strip down to his boxers.

“Whatever you want,” he replies, and I look at the TV. Having grown up with brothers, I know that’s a lie. He probably wouldn’t be into one of the dance shows I like, or The Bachelor.

“Here, you choose.” I hand him the remote when he settles on the bed next to me, his back to the headboard and his ankles crossed.

“Baby, I’m really good with whatever you want to watch,” he tells me as I take a bite of my sandwich—ham and cheese with the perfect amount of mayo and mustard.

“You’d be okay with watching The Bachelor?” I raise a brow, and a pained look crosses his face. Laughing, I mutter, “You pick,” popping a chip into my mouth.

He settles on a crime drama. I finish eating, and as soon as I’m done, he takes my plate away and curls me into his side. I rest my head against his chest, my arm over his abs and my thigh over his, and watch TV with him until I eventually fall asleep.

***

Sitting at a small booth at the back of the coffee shop the next morning, my stomach knots when I see my dad walk by the windows at the front. I pick up my coffee and take a sip as he enters, and his eyes come to me. Seeing him close in on the table I’m sitting at, I realize his guard is up and he’s nervous. Realizing that, the knot in my stomach loosens. My dad doesn’t get scared or nervous, so I know he must be feeling guilty, and even though I’m still upset with him, I don’t want that for him.

“I got you your usual,” I say when he takes a seat across from me, and his eyes go from guarded to soft in an instant.

“Did you poison it?”

“No.” I shake my head, then continue, “Only because I didn’t have any arsenic handy.”

“Fair enough.” He picks up the white paper cup and takes a sip then sets it down, keeping his hand wrapped around it. He scans the coffee shop, and then his eyes meet mine. “You know I love you, right?”

God, that question kills me, because I have never, not once in all my life, questioned my father’s love for me. Never.

“I know that,” I reply softly, holding his gaze.

“Know I’d do anything for you? Protect you with my dying breath?”

“I know.” My lungs burn, and I swallow over the sudden lump in my throat.

“When did you grow up?” The question is whispered, and tears I can’t fight start to form in my eyes. “You’re my baby girl. Christ, I look at you now, know you’re a woman, but… you’re still my baby in here,” he says gruffly, placing his hand over his heart.

A lone tear escapes and slides down my cheek. “Dad,” I whisper as he sits forward, wiping the tear from my cheek and studying me.

“Your mom says she’s never seen you as happy as when she saw you with him.” God, I love my mom. I close my eyes, and he grabs my chin, shaking it gently. “Are you happy?”

“Yes.” I open my eyes back up and meet his gaze. “I’m happy.”

“Then I’ll find a way to deal.” He lets go of my chin and sits back.

“That easy?” I ask, and he shrugs his big shoulders.

“Tried to convince him three times to move on, and three times he’s told me what he’s thought of my suggestion. So I’m guessing he’s determined to be around a while.”

“Seriously, Dad?” My eyes narrow and he smiles.

“What? It didn’t work.” He shrugs, now grinning. “If it had worked, he wouldn’t have been worth your time anyway.”

Even though he has a point, I still continue to glare at him. “No more trying to scare him off, Dad. All it does is annoy him and piss him off.”

“He means that much to you, like I said, I’ll find a way to deal,” he says, and my eyes soften.

“Please give him a chance. I don’t know the future, or know what will happen between us, but what we have feels good. And I don’t want to feel like I’m choosing between the two of you.”

“You’d choose me, right?” he prompts, and for the first time in my life, the answer to that question isn’t an immediate yes. The truth is, I don’t know what I would do if I was forced to pick between Harlen and my dad, and I hope I never have to find out. Reading my expression, he mutters, “Fuck,” rubbing his jaw.

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. But if he fucks you over, you get no say in the way I handle him.”

“Dad,” I sigh, shaking my head.

“Nope, that’s my stipulation,” he says firmly, in a tone I know all too well.

“Fine,” I mutter, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling.

When my eyes roll back down, I find him grinning. “So, when do I get to come over for breakfast?”

“Never,” I answer, and he kicks my foot with his boot and smiles at me. Seeing that smile, I stand up and give him a hug, and as soon as his arms close tight around me, I know we’re good.

“You got time to have lunch with your old man?” he asks, and I let him go and smile.

“Yep, but you’re buying.” I pick up my purse and settle it over my shoulder as he stands, bringing his coffee with him.

“When don’t I buy?”

“I don’t know.” I laugh, listening to him chuckle as we head out of the coffee shop. Tossing his arm around my shoulders when we hit the sidewalk, I feel his lips touch the side of my head, and my arm around his waist squeezes tight. Nope, I hope I never ever have to choose between him and Harlen.