CURLING MY FINGERS AROUND my mallet, I listened to the umpire rattle off the same old rules and regulations. The sky was cloudless with a light breeze rustling the tall grasses that lined the pristine field of The Harbour Polo Club. My gaze swept over the crowd scanning for a glimpse of Harlow. Despite the fact that she was wearing a yellow sundress, I couldn’t spot her anywhere.
Elsa bristled with energy, waiting for my signal to strike and tear up the untouched field. Beneath my helmet, I looked towards Ridge. He nodded, tugging his glove tighter. Our eyes focused on that tiny white ball. My teammates held up their mallets in salute, and when the bugle sounded we charged the field ready for battle.
“Great match,” Ridge said, as we led our horses to the stables.
Today was the first time in a long time that I didn’t feel the slightest bit sad after playing in the Stars and Stripes Polo Challenge. Our team has won the last four years which normally puts me in a good mood, but then the nostalgia washes over me making me miss my father.
“You too, man.”
“Should we celebrate at Rum Bar or Castle Hill?”
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I laughed. “I think I’ll be celebrating at home.”
Ridge slapped my shoulder, and then wiped off his mallet. “Understood, man, if I had a beautiful lady at home, I’d never want to leave.”
It wasn’t just that Harlow was my girlfriend—she was my friend. These moments were that much more special because I had her in my life.
“Yeah, I don’t know that there’s a woman out there to keep you from being a forever bachelor, Stephens.”
“That’s true enough,” he replied, through a hearty laugh.
Once we’d put our gear away, we walked back towards the polo grounds for our interviews and trophy presentation. I was in desperate need of a shower to rinse away the dirt and grime. Whistles of appreciation and cheers erupted as Ridge and I entered through the gate. Walking briskly, I darted through the crowd in an attempt to find Harlow.
Instantly, I recognized her copper hair, the warm breeze whipped at the hem of her skirt, inching it ever so slightly up her thighs. As I turned the corner, a portly man with greying hair nearly white around the temples came into view. Harlow folded her arms over her chest, as the man inched closer to her.
I strode up to her side. “Everything okay here?”
The man’s hazel eyes shot daggers in my direction. “Ah, Grady James, you won today’s matches by a fair margin, not bad. Although, your defensive game could you a little work.”
Who the fuck is this man?
“Grady, this is Monty Sinclair. I can’t say that I’d like to introduce you.”
This man is Harlow’s father. My fists balled at my sides, at the recognition. “No, I suppose this is not a pleasant introduction for you, sweetheart.” I pulled Harlow behind me, squaring up to the motherfucker.
Dragging his gaze over us, a booming laugh erupted from his lungs. “Harlot, is this the polo player that you’re spreading your legs for?”
“Excuse me?” I said, moving a step closer.
“Slow your roll, hot shot, this is between me and my daughter,” he said, scowling in Harlow’s direction. “This is a family matter.”
“Let me shed some light, Harlow is your nothing,” I replied, shaking my head. “She is an independent woman free of the likes of you.”
Monty inhaled a sharp breath. “Well, well, looks like someone finally wants to take up with your fat ass, Harlot.”
He would not talk to her like this, not now—not ever. As much as I wanted to, and it wasn’t without epic restraint, I opted not to smash his face into the table or my fist. Instead, I used my words, like an adult.
“Sinclair, you have ten seconds at best to move your ass from this spot. Harlow Trembley is none of your concern, not while I’m around. You don’t think about her, and you don’t come near her ever again. You got me?”
He puffed up his chest. “And just what are you going to do about it?”
“The answer to that question—I can assure you is one that you do not want.”
Dragging his glaring gaze over us, Monty’s lips curled into a devilish grin. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “She’s all yours, kid, I hope you know what you’re in for with this one.”
In a hurried movement, Harlow scooped up her wine glass. “Go fuck yourself, Dad,” she hissed, tossing the drink in his face. “You don’t get to be a part of my life.”
Her smile was so big that I couldn’t help but laugh. Standing next to her witnessing the moment as she took the power back from the bastard filled my heart.
Scrubbing a chubby hand down his face, he laughed a belly shaking laugh. “That’s good.” He grabbed a linen napkin from the table and then wiped his face.
“The next time you find yourself at an event with Harlow,” I said, taking her hand in mine, “walk the other way.”
I led Harlow through the onlookers some whose mouths hung open in shock, others whispering hushed musings. My singular priority was getting Harlow away from her father.
“My hero,” she gushed, bumping my arm with hers.
“The way you tossed that drink in his face, and spoke your mind—sweetheart, that was badass.”
“It was pretty badass of me,” she agreed. “I feel so light right now, like I could do anything.”
“That feeling, it’s called, closure—healing.”
She smiled over at me. “Thanks to you, I’m going to be fine.”
I hooked my arms around her waist. “You’re going to be better than fine, all on your own.”