Miles

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“I think maybe we should eat, but I’m too damn comfortable to move.” I kiss the top of Harlow’s head that’s perched on my chest.

“Five more minutes.” She nuzzles deeper into my embrace, her hand sliding across my stomach.

It’s Saturday afternoon, and we’ve yet to leave this room today. Part of that is because we slept late, having stayed up into the wee hours of the morning. The other part goes without saying.

Like the first night, Harlow stayed, sleep came easier and more peaceful than it normally does. I thought the first time was a fluke, but then after last night, I know without a doubt that it’s because she’s here. She calms my mind and makes me feel oddly at peace in a way I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

I’ve slept with more than my fair share of women over the years and not one has made me feel the way Harlow does. She doesn’t have to say anything. Just being near her makes me feel better. I can’t quite explain why because I don’t fully understand it myself.

“Tell me about this tattoo.” Harlow interrupts my thoughts, running her fingers lazily along my stomach where a large tattoo stretches down one side and across part of my abdomen.

I look down at the large piece Dexter did for me not long after I started working for him. It’s of three silhouetted soldiers huddled together in a field of poppies – helmets on their heads and guns in their hands. I had it done just a few months after I had left the military. To say I was struggling to adapt to being back on U.S. soil would be a complete understatement.

Those first couple of years were the hardest. Coming home when so many of my brothers never did left me with more guilt than I knew how to process. Hell, even now, eight years later, I still haven’t been able to fully deal with everything that happened during my time overseas.

“Dexter did it for me,” I say, clearing the knot out of my throat.

“The guy who used to own Inked?”

“Yeah.” I nod even though her eyes are turned down toward the tattoo.

“Three soldiers,” she says, tracing each one lightly with the tip of her finger. “Does it mean something specific?”

“Patterson, Rodgers, and Perez.” It’s the first time I’ve said their names out loud in years.

“They served with you?”

“Yep.”

“Why poppies?” She moves her finger down, tracing around one of the flowers.

“Poppies are a symbol of remembrance,” I inform her as I stare up at the ceiling, trying to push down the instant tightness that forms in my chest.

“What happened to them?”

“They were killed on a mission.”

“Were you with them?” She continues to trace the tattoo with her finger, her touch keeping me grounded in some weird way.

“Yes.” I barely get the word out. I haven’t spoken about this in years, and it feels almost harder to talk about now than it did back when it happened. “There were four of us that got pinned down inside the building we were searching. One made it out. Three didn’t.”

“You were the only survivor.”

“I was.”

“I’m so sorry, Miles,” she whispers against my skin as she turns her face into my chest to lay a gentle kiss against the top of my ribs. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

“It was a long time ago.” I try to sweep it under the rug in hopes that the conversation will end here. Only two people know what happened after my brothers were killed and I have no intention of adding her to that list.

As if sensing that I’m done talking about it, Harlow sits up and turns her face toward me, offering me a soft smile. “I think I’m ready for that food now.” I know her change of subject is for my benefit and I appreciate it more than she knows.

“Oh yeah?” I grin, reaching out to tuck a chunk of hair behind her ear, my hand lingering on the side of her face for a few additional seconds. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I really want Sotto.” She crinkles her nose at me. “But that means we will have to shower and get dressed.”

“I don’t know. I like having you here all to myself,” I counter.

“Well, when you put it like that.” She grins, tapping her chin as she thinks. “Oh, I know. Let’s order pizza.” She claps excitedly. “It’s been probably two years since I’ve had a slice of pizza.”

“What?” I laugh.

“I’m serious. Alan was always really particular about what we ate. Clean eating was my life. I think the last time I had pizza was when Alan was out of town on business and my friend, Andrea, came over with a loaded pizza and a big bottle of wine. Those nights didn’t happen often, but when they did, I took full advantage.”

“Pizza it is then.” I grin as I sit up, grasping her chin between my thumb and index finger before laying a light kiss on her lips. “Anywhere, in particular, you want it from?” I ask, sliding my legs over the side of the bed. I snag my boxers off the floor and stand, quickly pulling them on before turning back toward Harlow.

“I don’t even remember what they have around here. What do you suggest?”

“Goodfellas is the best. They don’t deliver, but I could run over and pick it up.”

“Are you sure? We can order from somewhere that delivers.”

“You just told me you haven’t had pizza in two years. This calls for Goodfellas. Trust me. You won’t be disappointed.” I extend my hand to her, helping her out of bed the moment she takes it. “Why don’t you throw on something comfortable?” I pause, looking down at her bare body, my eyes dipping to her perfect curves. “Or not. I quite prefer you this way.” I wink.

“You can’t keep me naked all the time.” She swats playfully at my chest.

“Pretty sure I can try.” I grin, not able to resist the urge to lean forward and press my lips to hers.

“Food,” she groans against my mouth just as the kiss starts to heat up.

“Fuck food.” I sweep my tongue against hers, pulling her bare chest flush with mine.

“Miles.” She half moans, half whines.

“Okay. Okay.” I pull back, dropping my forehead against hers. “But after I feed you, I’m finishing what I just started.”

“I think I can live with that.” She smiles up at me, and I swear the fucking ground beneath my feet sways.

——

“Okay, you were right.” Harlow leans back against the couch; her hands splayed across her stomach. “Best pizza ever.”

“I told you.” I grin, taking a swig of my beer.

“I’m so full I think I might bust,” She sighs loudly.

“Well, hopefully, you saved room for dessert.” I wink at her and the cutest fucking giggle bubbles in her throat. “You’re adorable.  You know that?” I can’t help but say.

“Shut up.” She shakes her head, turning her gaze toward the television which is quietly playing some property show in the background.

“And you’re shit at taking compliments,” I say, pulling her attention back to me.

“I am not,” she argues.

“Really?” I give her a knowing look. “This from the girl who can’t even look me in the eye when I tell her how beautiful I think she is.”

“I’m looking you in the eyes right now,” she says matter of fact.

“You’re beautiful, Harlow,” I say, watching her gaze instantly dart away. “Ha! There, see I told you.”

“Whatever.” She huffs, giving me an evil glare. “Maybe I just think you’re full of crap is all.”

“Or maybe you don’t know how to take a compliment,” I reiterate my previous statement.

She opens her mouth to respond but closes it when a soft knock sounds against the front door. She looks at me and then toward the door, her eyes going wide.

“Relax,” I tell her, pushing to my feet. “It’s probably just the neighbor needing to borrow something.” I cross to the front door and look out the peephole just as the second knock sounds.

The instant I catch sight of red hair I freeze, glancing back at Harlow who’s watching me curiously. I make the decision not to answer it seconds before the unwelcome visitor says, “I know you’re in there, Miles. Your bike is out front, and your car is behind the building.” She knocks again. “Answer the door.”

“Shit,” I grumble.

“A friend of yours?” Harlow shifts sideways on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest

“Hardly.” I snort.

“Miles, open the door,” Wendy speaks loudly enough that her voice filters into the room.

“Sounds like you should answer it,” Harlow says, her expression flat.

The last thing I want to do is open the door and make Harlow face one of my more recent hookups. We certainly weren’t dating so I’m not sure how else to refer to her.

“She’ll go away.” I shrug, walking back toward the living room.

“One of your girlfriends, I presume?”

I can tell she’s trying to seem unaffected that another woman is currently standing outside my front door, but she’s not doing a very good job of it.

“We were seeing each other for a while, but I haven’t spoken to her in over a month.”

“Seeing each other,” Harlow repeats with an eye roll. “You mean sleeping with each other.”

“If you want to get technical, yes,” I say, knowing there’s no reason in hiding it from her. Wendy was before Harlow even came back to town.

“Are you done sleeping with her?” she asks, looking toward the door when Wendy knocks again.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?”

“Answer the question, Miles.” She holds my gaze intently.

“I’m here with you, Harlow. I think there’s your answer.”

“So you’re not planning on sleeping with anyone else?”

“Not so long as we’re doing whatever it is that we’re doing here. Are you?” I ask, snagging my beer off the coffee table and taking a long pull.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” She stands and walks toward the door.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes following her every move.

“You’ll see.” She grins over her shoulder seconds before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

“Who are you?” Wendy sneers the instant her eyes land on Harlow.

I make it a point to step out of her line of sight but stay close enough that I can easily hear what they’re saying.

“You’re Wendy, right?” Harlow’s voice is sickeningly sweet, and I instantly bite back a laugh.

“Yeah, and you are?”

“I’m Harlow, Miles’ girlfriend. I know you two were sleeping together for a while, but that’s officially over. So if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show up here again.”

I swear to god my jaw is on the floor by the time she’s done. To be honest, I didn’t think she had it in her to be so assertive.

“I, uh...” Wendy stutters.

“Have a great day, Wendy.” Harlow switches back to her sweet voice seconds before the door slams closed.

“My girlfriend, huh?” I smirk when she turns back to face me.

“Well, what else would you have had me tell her? She needs to know you’re off limits.”

“Staking your claim.” I nod. “I like it.”

“Oh shut it.” She grins. “And you’re welcome. It didn’t sound like she was going away anytime soon.” She stomps back toward the couch.

“Yeah, she is a little stalkerish at times.” I laugh, stepping in front of her before she has a chance to sit down.

“Seeing you put her in her place was hot as fuck.” I smile at her.

“You have a foul mouth. Has anyone ever told you that?” She chews on her bottom lip to keep her own smile at bay.

“You love my mouth.” I lean down, trailing my tongue from the base of her neck all the way to her ear in one long swipe.

“Seriously though, are there any other Wendy’s I should be aware of?” She pulls back, narrowing her gaze.

“Um...” I tap my chin like I’m really thinking.

“Miles!” She shoves my shoulder and tries to step away, but I’m too fast. I snag my arm around her waist and secure her firmly against my chest.

“I’m not going to lie and say there haven’t been other women in the last few months, but Wendy was the only repeat. All the others were just one time things.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better,” she crinkles her forehead as she looks up at me.

“It should. I haven’t been totally exclusive with someone since Rachel, but I want to be with you. I don’t want to touch another woman or kiss another woman or even look at another woman. Right now you’re all I want, Harlow.”

“Right now.” She calls me out on my choice of words, doubt swimming behind those beautiful eyes of hers.

“Hey.” I tip her chin up when she tries to look away. “I can’t predict the future. All I know is how I feel right now, and right now you’re all I can see. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you. When I am with you, all I want to do is kiss you and touch you and hear you laugh. Can’t that be enough for now?”

She stares back at me for a long moment before answering, “It’s enough,” she whispers.

“Now, what do you say we take this conversation back to the bedroom? Or better yet, how about we don’t talk at all.” I raise my eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“You’re insatiable.” She drops her head back and laughs.

“For you, baby, hell yes I am.” I hoist her into my arms, loving that she instantly wraps her legs around my waist before her mouth comes down on mine.