Trick - By Lori Garrett Page 0,60
of those things. So the night before she got back to town, I went and marked myself with her name.
“That’s kind of personal,” I mumble, unsure how to articulate all of those feelings to Daisy.
Daisy considers this. “That’s fair. But Harlow is tougher than you give her credit for, Gunner. She’ll forgive you. You know she will. She loves you something fierce.”
“What should I do? I haven’t heard from her in days. I don’t want to call and upset her. I’m fucking dying without her, though.” I can hear the pleading in my voice, but I don’t give a damn about my pride.
Daisy raises one eyebrow, her pretty eyes sparkling at me. “I think you have two choices here, Gunner. You can decide that you aren’t good enough for Harlow, because, you seem pretty convinced of that. You can walk away from her, break her heart again.”
I shake my head. I’d do anything not to trash her world like that again. “What’s the second option?”
Daisy sets her glass onto the bar top, and leans in. “You can man the fuck up and learn to be good enough for her.”
***
“I wasn’t sure when I was going to hear from you again,” Harlow says. She bites on her bottom lip as she stands in my doorway, looking like a damn angel in her white cotton dress, all her blonde hair pulled back away from her face.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I say. I lead her into the old farmhouse, through the living room, and into the kitchen where I’ve got a whole spread of food.
“Daisy convinced me it was a good idea,” she says with a casual shrug that guts me. “What’s all this?”
“An apology.” I stick my hands deep in my pockets to avoid touching her before she’s ready.
“Wow. This looks like a lot of trouble.” Harlow peers into the room but doesn’t walk in just yet.
“You’re worth it.”
I see her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t look at me or acknowledge what I said.
“What have you got here?” she walks to the table and examines the dishes.
“There’s some corn fritters, and fried chicken. Over there are the stuffed mushrooms and some shrimp. I know you love shrimp.”
“I do,” Harlow confirms, trailing her fingers over the white cloth. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”
I shrug. “Well, I figured if you actually showed up, I wanted to make sure you stayed a while. We’ve got enough food to last till 2030. Besides—I’ll be honest—you know I didn’t make any of it. I wish I did, but then you definitely wouldn’t stick around.” I crack a smile and am so damn happy to see the start of one on Harlow’s face, too.
“Is that—”
I follow her eyes to the thick, frosted cake on the center of the island. “Hummingbird cake.”
“Gunner, that’s my all-time favorite. My mama used to make it for me to cheer me up.” She walks to the cake and runs her finger through the icing, then closes her eyes as she licks the white frosting off. Savoring it. I can’t help but stare at that gorgeous mouth. “So good.”
“I knew that, you know. That you love that cake, I mean. You told me once.”
Harlow nods, like she remembers that moment out on the lake. That first time I saw her cry. It was her eighteenth birthday and should have been a huge celebration—and it was. Her father made sure of it. Renting out the whole damn country club for his little girl. Filling it with people she didn’t know, and didn’t much care to know—because on a milestone birthday like that, all Harlow wanted was her mama there.
She ran out of the party, leaving a pile of guests. I’d never been more proud of her. I chased her down the hill to the lake, held her as she cried, told her how brave she was for leaving the party like she did. She told me stories about her mama, told me the things she missed about her most, the things that used to make her so mad that she wished she could take back.
I’d never been there for someone before like I was for Harlow that day, and it felt pretty damn good to be needed for once.
“I’m sorry I don’t do a better job of showing you that I care about what you say. That I care about you Harlow. Because I do.” The words come out slowly, cautiously.
She smooth’s her dress down. “I know that.”
I step toward