Once More Chance (Chance #2; Rosemary Beach #8) (12 page)

“I don’t recall asking you, Blaire,” Nan snapped.

“You didn’t ask me. But I’m answering,” Blaire retorted. I didn’t stay there to referee. They might be related by marriage now, but those two hadn’t made any
sort of bond. I doubted they ever would.

Della was glaring at me as I ran up the stairs to where she and Harlow were standing.

“Your car’s here, Miss Sloane,” the valet said as I approached.

“Not ready for it just yet. Give us a minute, please,” Della replied, and she swung her angry gaze back to me.

I studied Harlow’s face and saw her drop her eyes to stare at the ground. Something was wrong. Della was ready to hit me, and Harlow looked ready to sob.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked, touching her face in an attempt to get her to look at me.

Harlow lifted her face, but she kept her eyes diverted from me.

“Maybe you should ask Nan’s lips?” Della snapped at me.

Oh. Shit!
“You saw that?” I asked Harlow in a panic, and realized it wasn’t the smartest reaction.

“Yes, the entire club saw it from the dining room,” Della answered for her. “We were just leaving.”

Not good. Upsetting Harlow was the last thing I wanted to do. “I shoved her off. I wasn’t expecting her to do that. I was telling her I was going to play golf, and she just attacked
me. I didn’t know—”

“You kept talking to her. You didn’t look angry,” Harlow’s soft voice finally said, interrupting my excuses.

Shit.
“I told her about the baby, and she was surprised. She knows about your heart. We were discussing Kiro’s visit. And your health. I swear, we were. I know that sounds
crazy, but she was actually curious. And seemed concerned, which I’m having a hard time believing, too.”

Harlow’s eyes finally lifted to look at me, then she glanced over at Della. “OK. I’m gonna go to the spa with Blaire and Della. We can talk about it later.”

She was still upset. Damn, I didn’t want her leaving me while she was upset. “Come home with me. We can talk. I don’t like seeing you upset. I swear to you, I didn’t kiss
her. She startled me, and it took me a second to react. I feel nothing for her. Nothing, Harlow. You’re all I love. You.”

Harlow studied my face, then nodded. “It was hard to watch,” she said.

She could have put a knife in my gut, and it would have hurt less.
Dammit, Nan.
She did this shit to cause problems. I wished she’d kept her ass in Paris.

“You shouldn’t have had to see that. I should have been prepared for her to try something like that and guarded against it. I thought after the last time I spoke to her, she had
gotten the message that I’m not interested. That I’m completely taken.”

Harlow gave me a small smile. “We have to go. I’ll see you later. Have fun playing golf with the boys,” she said, sounding less hurt and more relieved.

I bent my head to kiss her, and she turned her face so that my lips hit her cheek. She stepped back and ducked her head. “Sorry, but she’s still on your lips. I can see her lip
gloss. I can’t . . .” she said, then walked down the stairs with Della right behind her. Blaire was standing at the car and pressed her hand to her mouth to cover a laugh.

I shot an annoyed look at Blaire, and she shrugged, then laughed again before getting into the car. Harlow glanced back at me as she climbed into the car and gave me a small wave. Then the valet
closed the door, and they were gone.

Motherfucker.

T
he sight of Nan’s hands in Grant’s hair as she kissed him was tormenting me. Della and Blaire had spent the past several hours trying
to get my mind off of it, so I pretended I was over it, but I wasn’t. All I could think was that Nan was healthy. She’d be able to give him babies with no cause for fear. Healthy
babies. She would be here if I wasn’t.

The idea that Grant could love someone else someday hurt so much, but then the selfishness of that emotion made me furious with myself. If something happened to me, I wanted Grant to find
happiness again. I wanted someone to love him and give him the life he deserved. I did.

Just not with Nan.

God, how wrong was that? What had happened to me? I was a nice person. I had always been a nice person, but now . . . ugh. I was disgusted with myself. I didn’t know what I felt. My
emotions were all over the place. I was weepy all the time and clingy. I wasn’t a clingy, weepy person.

“He’s already home. I bet he’s been pacing and worrying his head off,” Blaire said with a smile. “Don’t be too hard on him. I believe Nan really did attack
him. He’ll learn to keep his distance.”

I nodded. She was right. I knew she was, and now the idea of him being worried all day made me feel even worse. “I probably shouldn’t have been so hard on him,” I said.

“Yeah, you should have. He gets away with too much because he’s so charming. He needed to be reminded that he can’t let that kind of thing happen. If you don’t let him
know it bothers you, it could happen again with someone else,” Blaire explained.

I trusted her. She loved Rush, but she had dealt with her own Nan battles. Nan was Rush’s baby sister and had grown up with him in their mother’s, Georgianna’s, house. Rush had
spent most of his life babying Nan and taking care of her. When Blaire walked into his life, Nan hadn’t dealt well with that.

“Thanks for today. I really enjoyed it,” I told them.

“I’m glad we got to do it. I missed you,” Della said. Her smile was always so sincere and kind.

“We’ll do it again,” Blaire assured us both. “Next time, though, I’m forcing Bethy to come with us. Kicking and screaming, if I have to.” Blaire had begged
Bethy to come with us, but she’d said she had things to do at home. Blaire said she closed herself off whenever she wasn’t working at the club. It was getting worse instead of better
for her, clearly.

“I’ll see y’all later,” I told them, and stepped out of the car.

The front door opened before my foot had hit the bottom step, and Grant was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. His face was full of concern and fear. In my heart, I knew what I had seen
earlier wasn’t his fault. It still hadn’t made it easier to watch. I hadn’t been able to ease his mind when I had left him at the club. I was upset, and I wasn’t sorry about
that. He would be, too, if he’d been in my position. But from the look on his face, he had worried about this all day.

“I’m sorry,” we both said in unison.

Grant frowned. “Why are
you
sorry?” he asked as I stopped in front of him.

“For making you worry all day. I shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong of me.”

Grant let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hand. “Harlow, please don’t make this worse. I already feel like a complete ass, and you apologizing sweetly is making me feel like
a bigger one.”

I reached up and tugged his hand away from his face. “You shouldn’t have let her get so close to you. In the future, be more guarded. But it was a mistake, and I understand that. I
don’t think you wanted her to kiss you.”

He pulled me toward him and pressed me against the door as his mouth covered mine. The mint flavor of his mouth made me wonder how many times he’d brushed his teeth. Smiling against his
lips, I slid an arm around his neck and licked at the corner of his mouth, then pulled his tongue into my mouth and sucked on it.

Grant’s hands were under my top in seconds. They cupped my breasts as he pressed his erection against my stomach. This was just what I needed after a day of thinking about Nan’s lips
on Grant.

He broke the kiss, and I had started to argue when he jerked the door open. “Get inside before we get arrested for indecent exposure,” he growled.

Laughing, I hurried inside but didn’t get far before Grant had me pressed against the wall as he kissed my neck and took little bites of my shoulder. I could feel the hardness he’d
teased me with outside against my bottom as he ground his hips in a circular motion. All I could do was put both of my hands against the wall to hold myself upright and enjoy the ride.

He pulled my shorts down my legs, along with my panties, and I obediently stepped out of them. Then his hands were on my bottom, cupping it as he moved my legs apart. Before I could figure out
what he was doing, his mouth was on my slit. I cried out and fell against the wall as his tongue danced along the tender folds.

“Oh, God, I can’t stand up,” I cried out, feeling my knees buckle.

Grant reached up, grabbed my waist, and turned me around. “Put your legs over my shoulders,” he said, looking up at me while he held me by the waist. “I got you. I won’t
let you fall.”

I did as he instructed, and he held my hips and pushed me back against the wall before continuing his efforts to drive me crazy. I grabbed at the one thing I seemed so fond of when he did this:
his hair. He seemed to like it. His kissing always got more intense when I started tugging on his thick locks.

I panted and let out moans and gasps, not caring if I fell off his shoulders. Just as long as he kept doing this. Just when I was about to shatter, he stopped, and his eyes found mine.
“You ready to come?”

I nodded, afraid I would scream yes if I opened my mouth.

Grant grinned wickedly, then stuck his tongue out at me before lowering his head and flicking the tip over my most sensitive spot three times and pulling it into his mouth and sucking. I
completely lost it. I was sure the neighbors heard my cries. But I didn’t care.

T
he next day, at the doctor’s office, Harlow lay on the examination table with her shirt pulled up, her bare stomach exposed for the
ultrasound. It was still flat. You couldn’t tell there was anything inside. She looked normal. Well, as normal as a very anxious person can look. She had spent all morning cooking breakfast,
even though she never cooked breakfast. Then she’d spent an hour trying to decide what to wear. I could tell she was nervous, but you would have thought we were going to be introduced to the
baby and she wanted to make a good impression.

We were at the doctor’s office to hear the heartbeat. I had Googled the process and discovered that if we didn’t hear the heartbeat, that meant the baby hadn’t made it that
far. Harlow hadn’t had any bleeding or cramping, but apparently, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have miscarried.

Miscarrying this baby would devastate her. The idea of seeing her brokenhearted wasn’t something I wanted, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear today. I just wanted Harlow to be
OK. Safe. I needed her to be safe. And happy. I just wasn’t sure there was a way for me to have both.

Again, I was completely helpless. I hated this feeling.

“OK, are you ready?” the doctor asked, looking down at Harlow. Somehow he knew not to ask me, because he knew I wasn’t ready. If we heard a heartbeat and it was healthy, that
meant this wasn’t over, that I had to continue living in fear of losing Harlow. But if we didn’t hear a heartbeat, the pain she would endure might be too much for her to bear.

“Yes,” Harlow said. The excitement and nervousness in her voice weren’t lost on the doctor. He smiled reassuringly. He did this all the time. He seemed positive, which was
good. Or wasn’t. Hell, I didn’t know what was good anymore.

Then it happened. The sound that changed it all.

A rapid, steady thumping filled the room, and all I could do was stare down at Harlow’s stomach. Her hand reached out and grabbed mine tightly, and she let out a sob that startled me. I
looked up at her, and she was smiling so damn big, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. The wonderment on her face said everything I was thinking. There was a life in there. One we had
created. It was real.

“Sounds strong. That’s a very good sign,” the doctor said.

Harlow’s hand squeezed mine, and she laughed. The heartbeat sped up a second with her laughter, then went back to normal. Had the baby heard her laugh?