doing this to try to take my mind off of New York.
Clay lets out a low, uncomfortable chuckle. “I appreciate that sir, but I really can’t get the time off for any trips right now. As nice as that would be.”
“You’re working for Isolde Michaels, right? She’s a great friend of mine, I’m certain I could get her to make an exception.”
“Dad...” I warn, poking at the maple glazed salmon on my plate and refusing to look at him. He’s unbelievable.
“Thank you, sir. I’m still trying to earn my place at the firm, though. Maybe some other time.”
“Some other time for what?” I hear Daisy’s voice chirp.
“Turks and Caicos, naturally,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Hi, Mr. Mills,” Daisy says, pulling up a chair next to me. “Hi, I’m Daisy.” She waves lightly to Clay, who obviously perks up at the sight of Daisy in her light blue, curve hugging sundress. He’d be an idiot not to notice her.
“Pleased to meet you,” he says. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Yeah, I’ll have—”
“Lemon Gingertini? It’s no problem, Clay, I’ll go in and make it,” I cut in.
“You don’t have to, Har,” Daisy says. But she slips out of her chair and into mine, closer to Clay. I fight the smile twitching at the corners of my mouth.
“Absolutely no problem, I’ll be right back.”
I make my way into the kitchen and pull the ginger syrup from the fridge. As I’m dragging the step stool over to the corner of the room where the liquor cabinet is, I see a single headlight flash from the kitchen window. I pause, becoming completely still for a moment, just long enough to listen for it. I close my eyes and hold my breath—everything short of crossing my fingers, like a kid wishing for a new toy. I used to lay in bed, waiting for it so I could sneak out and spend the night with Gunner. And it’s there. The familiar growl of Gunner’s motorcycle. I’d recognize it anywhere.
I don’t hesitate. I bolt for the front door, leaving Daisy’s half-made drink on the counter. She’ll thank me later, though, I bet she even ends up having a little fun with Clay. Dad will surely be furious when he realizes I’m gone. But as much as he said he was going to stay away, Gunner is here. And that’s what matters right now.
CHAPTER 6
GUNNER
I just planned on driving by. I was useless at work anyhow, so what harm could just passing by do? I had to make sure stalker-ass Rochelle wasn’t here. I didn’t plan on being seen. But fuck me, Harlow is running down the drive toward me and what the hell am I supposed to do? Bolt? That’s even too dick for me. Tell her I made a wrong turn? That’s too stupid to believe.
No, I’ve got no other choice but to suck it up and tell her the truth. Maybe not the part about how my body has ached to be back inside of her all day, but the part about how Rochelle is on a rampage I don’t think she’ll quit anytime soon—unless I put a ring on that finger of hers.
It would solve the problem. Both female-based problems in my life right now. It’d get Rochelle off my back, and force Harlow to accept once and for all that she’s too damn good for me. Always has been.
“Gunner. What are you doing here?” Harlow pants. I know she’s been running, but her being out of breath reminds me of last night when she panted my name with each thrust of my dick inside of her.
“I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere?” This is a fucking bad idea, but I’m not hanging around here to wait for her mean-as-shit father to come out and throw me off of his land with a shotgun pointed between my eyes. Or at my balls.
Her eyes move from my beat up bike to her white, lacey dress. She was probably enjoying a nice dinner with her dad and his friends based on the line of Mercedes and Audis in the driveway. She isn’t exactly dressed for any place I’d take her.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she answers, sliding onto the back of my bike without hesitation and wrapping her tan arms around my waist. “Let’s go.”
I kick start my bike and speed away from the Mills’ grand estate. I met Mr. Mills a couple of times over the years. When Harlow and