The Hotter You Burn (The Original Heartbreakers 2)

“I don’t want to have a one-night stand with you,” she whispered, wishing she would stop trembling. West wasn’t the man for her and never would be—she got that—but neither was Beck, even though he drew her with invisible chains, and oh, crap, the urge to curl into a ball and sob bombarded her.

“We’ll enjoy ourselves, Harlow. That I can promise you.”

“I know. But to taste what you have to offer and then have it taken away? No,” she said, shaking her head. I’ve lost too much already. “Give me forever, or give me nothing.”

He gazed at her with longing.

He gazed at her with terror.

He gazed at her with fury.

He backed a step away, and the nerve endings he’d awakened within her stopped singing, suddenly screaming in protest. They hadn’t gotten nearly enough of him. She hadn’t gotten enough.

His features shuttered, hiding his emotions. “I don’t know what I can give you, but however long we last, it won’t be forever. The future is too unpredictable.”

“Then it’s nothing,” she said, tears welling. There was a part of her, deep inside, shouting for her to girl-up and fight for him. Walking away would be easy. Emotionally gut-wrenching, but easy. And really, “easy” would be her only reward. Fighting for him would be difficult, but the potential for payoff would be far greater. But the potential for hurt and failure, losing what little she’d gained in her life... It scared her to the bone.

“It’s not enough,” she said.

He laughed bitterly. “That’s the thing, sweet. I never am.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

HARLOW TRUDGED OUT of bed and dressed in a pair of frayed jeans shorts and her high school cheer shirt—go Stallions! Very little else in the RV belonged to her. She hadn’t paid for anything with the weekly checks she’d earned as a WOH employee because she hadn’t needed to; Beck had always given her cash plus bags of groceries, toiletries and clothing, allowing her to build a small savings. So, suspecting she would soon be kicked out, she didn’t bother packing. She wondered if Beck would knock on her door as usual, not to tell her to “rise and shine” so they could leave for work, but to tell her to take a walk of shame off the property. Or maybe he just expected her to head off on her own without being told.

She’d been watching the clock... Any second now the answer would become clear...

Two hard raps sounded at the door. “Harlow,” he snapped. “Get up. Let’s go.”

She yelped and tugged at the knob, not sure why she was surprised, considering she’d been waiting an eternity for this moment to arrive. He stood in the sunlight, his dark/light hair brushed back from his face, his lids narrowed, the tension from last night seeming to have doubled.

He looked her over and frowned. “That’s how you want to go to the office today?”

He wasn’t firing her or kicking her out? “Well...I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome at the office.”

His gaze flipped to hers and narrowed further. “Always thinking the worst of me.”

Guilt gave her a good old-fashioned kick in the heart. “I don’t always think the worst of you. I think the worst will happen to me. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, honey. Let’s go.”

For once, he didn’t open the car door for her, and all vestiges of his flirtatious side were gone. He switched on the radio, discouraging further chatting, but the hard rock soon grated at her ears.

She turned off the radio and said, “Are you—”

“I don’t want to talk about last night.”

“Good. Neither do I.” She was still too raw. Still reeling. One kiss had ripped away her every defense, making her forget her long-term goals. “I was simply going to ask if you were coming over tonight so I can work on your portrait.”

“No. I’m going out.”

“With whom?” The question whipped from her before she could stop it, and she considered jumping out of the car. Eating asphalt would be less painful than this conversation.

“That isn’t any of your business.”

She dug her nails into her thighs, cutting into skin. Just last night he’d had his tongue in her mouth, and now he treated her as if she were nothing special. Because—let’s be honest—she wasn’t. Not to him. But how much worse would it have hurt if she’d actually had sex with him, and then had to go through this same routine today? Count my blessings.

“You’re right. Forget I said anything,” she managed with a carefree tone. She turned the radio back on.

When they arrived at the office, she didn’t wait for him to come around the car—or not. She got out on her own and as casually as possible walked inside the building. The supplies she needed to sketch the new cast of characters were waiting in her office, as promised. The descriptions, the pencils and the notepads. There was a note from Kimberly, as well.

Dear Harlow,

I never meant to encroach on your territory! I truly had no idea you were interested in Beck. For your peace of mind, you should know we canceled our date. Also, I’m heading back to S&S Financial. I’ll be rooting for you. If anyone can tame a playboy, it’s you. You’re like a rose, thorns and all. You leave a mark. (And that’s a good thing!) Make sure to send me an invitation to your wedding.

Kimberly

Harlow’s heart skipped a treacherous beat.