Fearless For Love (Lovelly #3) (19 page)

I TAKE VINCENT’S advise about letting my heart guide me in regards to Harrington. So the next morning, I pull on my favorite sweats and head out to the place I know I’m most likely to see him—the river.

And now, here I am. Sweating bullets and waiting. It’s been an hour and still no Harrington. Maybe he lied when he said he’d been coming here every day?

I pick up a rock and throw it, and for the first time since forever, it sinks.

“Well, it’s good to know that you can be like the rest of us commoners.”

“Holy crap.” I swing around, my hand to my chest. “You scared the crap of me, Harry.”

He smiles, and it’s that sexy smirk that sends a shiver up my spine. He runs his hand through his ever growing hair, then shoves it into his pants pocket as he walks toward me, kicking at the rocks with each step.

“So,” he says. “You’re here. At
our spot
.”

I press my lips together and look around. “Yeah.”

He chuckles. “Were you here looking for me, by chance?”

I walk toward him, feeling a little shy. “Maybe. Though, to be fair, it was my spot before you started stalking it, so . . .” I shove a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Jess.” His voice is smooth, controlled, and I can tell by the look on his face that he’s not buying it. He knows I came looking for him.

I stop before him and look up. We’re close now. Super, super close.

“Harry . . .” I lick my lips.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me,” I say, studying his eyes. “A-and I thought, well, if you’re interested, that is, I thought that . . .” I take a deep breath. “I’d like to know more about you.”

His eyes widen slightly, but the surprise disappears just as quickly. He grins, wide.

“What do you want to know?”

Heat assaults my face. “Um . . .” I laugh nervously. Before all of this, I had a huge list of questions I wanted to ask. But now that I’m here and he agreed so quickly, I’m a little all over the place.

I sit on the pebbled bed of the riverbank, buying myself some time to sort out my thoughts.

He sits next to me, his hands behind him, his legs stretched out. He looks over at me expectantly, waiting for me to ask him something.

“I guess I just want to know more of your story. The beginning, the end, the middle.” I shrug. “Whatever you want me to know. But be honest, okay?”

He sighs and nods. After a pause, he says, “Well, unsurprisingly I suppose, I was one of those guys who got into a fight every chance he had growing up. I was young and reckless and wanted to prove to the guys in high school that I wasn’t too young to be a freshman, so I had sex with a senior when I was thirteen.” He looks at me and gives me a sad smile. “I drank more than I could keep down and experimented with drugs. And my dad didn’t care. He gave up on me. My brother tried to take care of me, but he was knee-deep in med school by then, so there was only so much he could do. I don’t know how I got through high school without getting expelled. I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I’m flawed, Jess. I might be easy on the eyes, but I have scars that run deep, flaws of my own making that I’m not sure I’ll ever fix. ”

Whoa. Okay. When I asked him to tell me about himself, this was definitely
not
what I expected. But at least he’s being honest, truly honest with me, as promised. I press my lips together and wait for him to continue, nudging a particularly large rock with my toe. When he doesn’t say anything more, I glance up at him. He’s staring off across the river, his expression distant and sad. Unguarded.

“How many brothers do you have? I mean, I know you have at least two, Heath and the one who tried to take care of you . . . the doctor . . .”

He looks at me, surprised. “Yeah. Wait, how did you know about Heath? Do you know him?”

“I know of him. My best friend Vincent met him at Cranbrook a couple years back. He went out with Ace once, before she got together with Heath. I swear, I thought they’d hit it off. They were super cute together, and Vincent talked about her all the time.”

I look to the side and see a sort of funny look on Harrington’s face. I’m not sure if he’s unsettled by our connection or jealous of something. Or if it’s something else entirely.

I ignore him and continue. “She’s super sweet. I was bummed when I found out he ended things with her that same night.” I remember how broken Vincent was when he came home after dropping Ace off. He’s never talked about another girl the way he did her.

“What a small world.”

“So, you’re from Pine Grove too then,” I say.

He nods. “Born and raised.”

I snap my fingers. “What’s your favorite burger place?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Just answer. This could make or break our relationship.”

He laughs. “Bob’s Burgers.”

“Shut up.”

“No, really.”

I’m grinning, but my smile’s wider on the inside. Seriously. Maybe there’s something to Vincent’s theory, after all. If I do give Harrington a chance, maybe I’ll find that there is something more between us.

“How did you end up in the FBI? Your family?”

He chuckles softly. “Actually, no. No one in my family knows.”

“Oh.” I’m confused.

“If my dad had his way, I’d be a lawyer for some big ass company in New York by now.”

“So then, what happened?”

“Fisher.” He laughs. “Fisher wanted to try out for the FBI, and he wanted me to apply with him. I mostly just did it for fun, but we both got in. Hell, we even graduated at the top of the class. But anyway, long story short, I didn’t tell my family because I couldn’t. My dad, well, he’s a little bit of a control freak. He’s always had our futures mapped out for us. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d deviated from his plan, and I didn’t want to put my brothers in a hard spot by making them lie for me. Unlike me, who’s challenged him every step of the way, they’ve only stepped out of line once or twice. Hudson when he married my sister-in-law, Blake, and Heath, well, Heath took a year off from Harvard to take Ace on her dream road-trip around the U.S. . . .”

Time passes quickly after that. We talk for an hour or two, I don’t know. He answers every one of my questions, including how he got involved with Stamos, how it was initially to try and get Fisher out, and how that turned into an official assignment. In turn, he asks me about my life, my passions, if I’ve always known I wanted to be a bartender.

I tell him my dream of being a professional drummer and how I’m part of a band. I tell him about the gig I’ll be performing in, in Miami. I tell him the important roll that Vincent holds in my life and about my relationship with Cat. I even tell him about my past, how my mom died and my worthless step-mom did nothing to stop the parade of abuse I received from her lovers, even when it landed me in the ER with a stab wound. I bare my soul to him in a way I’ve never done with anyone, except Vincent, and he seems genuinely interested in everything I have to say.

Before either of us knows it, the bright sky has turned into brilliant reds and pinks streaking across the horizon.

Harrington takes my hand in his and I look at our linked fingers.

“Do you ever wonder why we didn’t meet before . . . why we didn’t cross paths until now?” Harrington asks.

I look at his mouth, then his eyes, feeling my pulse quicken. I shake my head. Because I hadn’t.

He leans closer, “Why do you think fate never brought us together?”

I swallow. “You believe in fate?”

His eyes drop to my mouth as he leans even closer. “Yes, I do.”

His hand is splayed across my thigh and I’ve angled my body toward him, my right knee touching his left. Our bodies gravitate toward each other, pulled ever closer. I don’t know who moves faster as our mouths collide. Him or me. He pulls me into his lap and I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him, really kissing him. His hands squeeze my waist almost painfully, but I don’t want him to stop. He bites into my lower lip and I think I whimper.

“Jess . . .” he whispers between our kisses.

I can’t help myself. I want to feel the warmth of his skin against mine, so I move my hands to the hem of his shirt and sneak them underneath the fabric. He moans in approval at that contact and pushes his tongue into my mouth.

Finally, after what feels like forever, we pull back, our foreheads still pressing against each other. Our breathing is hard and heavy between us.

“I’ve dreamt of that for so long,” he says.

“Did it live up to your imagination?”

“No.” He shoves his hand into my hair and presses his mouth to mine softly. “The real thing is so much better. Seriously, there’s no comparison, sweetheart.”

That makes me smile. Like really wide. “If I say the same, will your ego grow as big as a mountain?”

“I’m not making any promises, but I’m pretty sure it’s already maxed out in size.”

“What?”

He moves his hips, and I feel something poking me by my thigh. I giggle. “That isn’t your keys, is it?”

He’s grinning. “Nope. Definitely not keys.”

I pull back, moving off his lap as my body flushes with heat. Clearing my throat, I look away, feeling my face grow hotter at the way Harrington’s looking at me.

Just then, my stomach rumbles so loud it almost sounds like an echo. Harrington laughs and gets to his feet. “How about we get you something to eat?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“ALL RIGHT, THAT’S a wrap, guys,” Tom calls, shutting his laptop with a slap. “Good job, everyone.”

The guys holler in response, high-fiving each other. I’m just happy I didn’t screw anything up today. For the first time in a long time, I feel confident that our show is going to kick ass.

It’s been hard work, and I know it’ll continue to be a hard labor of love until the gig in three weeks. But even with all the practice, I still feel like something is missing. I just don’t know what though. Maybe I just need more sleep.

“Just a few more practices and you’ll all get a day off,” Tom reminds us, coming over to stand just outside the space defined by our equipment, watching as the guys put their instruments away. “Especially you, Jessica. You look like a walking corpse.”

Jarod approaches me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and tugging me to his side as I stand. Tom frowns.

“I don’t know, Tom. I think Jess looks amazing,” Jarod says, squeezing my shoulders.

“
Jessica
,” I correct. Again. I step out from under Jarod’s possessive arm and place my drum sticks over the center drum as Tom comes over to join us.

“Are you sure you can’t take more time off?” he asks me, angling himself so that he almost block Jarod, effectively cutting him out of the conversation. Thankfully, Jarod gets the hint and turns away, just as Joel calls him to help pack up.

“I can’t,” I reply to Tom. “Not if I want to eat and have a roof over my head. I need my job.”

He nods. The hostile Tom I met when I initially joined the band has slowly dissipated. Now, when he looks at me, all I see is concern. “I understand,” he says. “We need to figure out how to get in more hours of practice for you and not kill you at the same time. I’ll work something out. When you get your day off though, make sure you take it off. Okay?”

I salute him. “Yes, boss.”

He laughs. “I wish the other jacks would listen to my advice as quickly as you do.”

“If we did, your job would be too easy,” Jarod calls, laughing.

“Okay, well, if you don’t need me any more right now, I’m going to call it a day. Cat said she was going to pick me up before work tonight, so I better get going. Thanks, Tom,” I say as I pick up my stuff and head toward the door.

“Take care, Jessica,” Tom calls, and the guys echo him.

“See ya later, guys.”

I step out of the barn and glance at my phone, realizing just how late I am. Cat’s probably been waiting for at least fifteen minutes, which is kind of odd given that she’s always stomped her way into the barn to drag me out of here when I’m running late.

I scan the parking lot, looking for her car, and when my gaze lands on a very not-Cat looking person, it suddenly all makes sense.

My worries forgotten, I pick up my pace and head over to where Harrington stands, leaning back against his silver Mitsubishi Evo. His grin brightens when he sees me approaching.

“You’re not Cat.” I point out the obvious, a little out of breath as I come to a stop before him.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck, looking unsure. “Are you not happy to see me?”

“God yes. I’m just surprised is all,” I say, grinning wide.

“Good.” He chuckles in that low, deep way I love as he pushes off the car. He reaches for me, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me to him. I suddenly forget where we are as everything in me zones in on him. His eyes. His hands. His mouth. His lips are so close to mine, and I will him to kiss me.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice gruff, like he’s just woken up or something.

My eyes dart to his eyes, then back to his mouth. “Hi.”

Then his mouth covers mine and I’m lost. So, so lost in a sea of hormones and feelings and naughty thoughts. He pulls back, but keeps his face close to mine, not touching me. His arms wrap around me even more tightly than before.

“Why did we wait so long to make this happen?” he breathes.

I shrug, because he knows the reason as well as I do. My fears, and his secrets.

“Let’s make a pact, yeah?”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Let’s make a pact to never hide things from each other again.”

It’s innocent and sweet, and the boyish way he’s looking at me nearly wipes out the fact that it’s also impractical and maybe even a little naive. “What about your job? What if you get sent undercover again? I’m pretty sure the FBI wouldn’t like you sharing confidential secrets with me.”

“Hmm . . .” he says, his eyebrows crinkling. “That’s a good point. In that case, I’ll say it’s FBI related and you’ll just have to trust me.”

“What if it’s something embarrassing?”

He laughs. “Are you serious? I told you that I lost my virginity to a senior when I was thirteen—”

“Yeah, that just makes you a sex-crazed man.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Fair enough. Then how ‘bout I tell you about the time I shit my pants during recess because I couldn’t get my zipper down in time. I used to go commando back then, and the zipper got caught, if you know what I mean.”

“No!” My eyes bulge as I start giggling.

“Yup. And to add to the insult, one of my female classmates found me with my pants down. She swore to everyone who would listen that I was showing her my pee-pee—which, by the way, I still find insulting. I mean, pee-pee? Seriously? I was maybe eight or nine at the time. So anyway, I get dragged through the middle of the school to the nurses’ station just as the bell rings, the teacher yelling at me about my behavior while she plugs her nose from the stink. I didn’t live
that
down until I got to high school and my genes kicked up my hot factor to rockstar.”

“Ohmigod.” I laugh hard while he holds me tight. “That is
super
embarrassing.”

“Yup. It is. So see . . . there’s nothing you need to worry about telling me. If you’re worried, just tell me and I’ll share another embarrassing fact about myself. Hell, I have enough to last every day for the next three years.”

I’m laughing so hard I snort, and I realize it’s because he’s making me laugh. And in the process, he managed to alleviate all my reservations.

“So, you ready to get out of here?”

I nod, still giggling. “Yes. I’m starved.”

Harrington opens the passenger door for me. But before I can I slide in, I see Jarod running toward us. I pause with one foot in the car, my hand on the door as I give Harrington a confused glance. Jarod slows to a walk as he draws close. He looks from me to Harrington, and I’m honestly not sure what to make of his expression. Confusion? Concern? Anger? Some odd mix of all three?

“This isn’t Cat,” he states.

“No, he’s most definitely not,” I mumble. I look to Harrington, who’s frozen by my side and shooting daggers at Jarod. If looks could kill.

Jarod extends his hand to Harrington and Harrington takes it. “Jarod. Lead singer of The Torque.”

“Killshot. I punch throats for a living.”

I grimace slightly, not liking the reminder of Harrington’s less savory side, nor the obvious pissing contest that’s happening.

Harrington wraps his arm around my waist as I step out from the car and pulls me in next to him. I see the moment Jarod puts two and two together. His eyes go from happy to narrowed within seconds.

Slowly, he backs away, keeping his gaze locked solely on me. “I just wanted to make sure everything was cool, so if you’re good, then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” I grind my teeth in annoyance. I know it’s useless to try and get him to stop calling me that, especially since he so clearly isn’t getting the hint, but I still don’t like it. It’s like he thinks he’s entitled to it, like we’re somehow more familiar than we are. It rubs me the wrong way.

As soon as he’s out of hearing range, Harrington swiftly turns around and curtly gestures to the open door behind me. His jaw is set tight and a deep V forms between his eyebrows. I don’t know what to make of his anger. Does he think I’m leading Jarod on or something?

Once he’s in the car and starts the engine, he looks at me and says, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t like that guy at all.”

“Me either. He gives me the creeps. But why don’t you like him?” I ask.

“Because that douchebag was imagining you naked right in front of me.” A muscle pops in his jaw. “I wish I could have punched that smirk off his face when he said he’ll see you later.” His gaze is directed through the window, at the barn over my shoulder.

“You got all that from the ‘see you later’?”

He blinks, his focus back on me. “Sweetheart, as dickish as it sounds, I was that guy back in high school. The only difference is I
never
went after a girl who was taken.”

Well, okay then. I look away and down at my hands.

“Shit,” Harrington swears, under his breath. “Shit. I’m sorry, Jess. I didn’t mean that the way it sounds. I know you’re not mine, not like that. It’s just . . .” He licks his lips. “I’m doing this all wrong. He just gives me the wrong vibe, and I can’t stand the thought of him staring at you like a piece of meat. Because you’re not. You’re so much more than just a meat-suit.”

“What can I do though? Playing drums in a band has been my dream for as long as I can remember. I can’t just up and leave because some guy is staring at me.”

“No, you can’t. And you shouldn’t. But . . .”

I look at him and he dips his head slightly, averting his eyes before he looks at me again. “What is it?”

“I have an idea. But only if you promise not to get pissed at me and think it’s about me marking my territory or some other sexist horseshit. Because it’s not. But it will more or less tell that asshole that you’re not available.”

I’m hesitant, but I nod. “I’m listening.”

“I want to come to your practices. If I stick around, he’ll back off.”

“Umm . . .” I purse my lips. “Let me get this straight. You want to come to my practices and sit there for hours on end, bored out of your mind, just so Jarod will back off?”

He nods. Slowly.

“Are you sure? It could get really,
really
boring. I mean, don’t you need to practice for your next fight or something?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. That’s a tough call. Watching you in your element or getting grabby with sweaty guys. Hmm . . . decisions, decisions.”

I shove him playfully. “Okay. If you’re absolutely sure. And if this will make Jarod back off, then I’m willing to try if you are.”

He grins. “Like I said, it’s a tough call, but I’ll make sacrifices.” He winks and puts the car into drive. “I guess that means I’ll be your ride to and from practice every day.”

“I guess so.” I smile.

More time with Harrington?

Yes. Please.