Original Heartbreakers: The Hotter You Burn Part 26

Two Farms.

His phone buzzed again.

There's a party in my pants. Want 2 come? <- see="" what="" i="" did="">

An animal growl rose from deep in his chest. If Dorian touched Harlow while she was in this aroused, drunken state, his hands would end up in Beck's trophy case.

He made his way to West's bedroom, the door already open. "I need you to come with me to Two Farms."

"Why?" West glanced up from the motherboard he was building from scratch. He often worked from home and thankfully today was one of those days.

"Harlow's drunk, and Dorian's taking advantage of her."

Rather than appearing enraged on Harlow's behalf, West looked to be fighting a grin. "He's never been the type to take advantage of a drunk woman. If she's had more than a single gla.s.s of something, he'll back off."

Beck whipped out his phone and showed his friend the picture. "Does this look like he's backing off?"

"Fine." West glanced at the calendar app displayed on his phone, resting beside the computer parts. "I can spare half an hour. Just give me a minute to dress." He stood, and for the first time Beck noticed the guy wore only a pair of boxer briefs.

Minute after minute pa.s.sed, his friend searching for the perfect pair of jeans. Beck snapped, "I'd like to leave sometime this year."

"Which is why I'm hurrying." West held up two s.h.i.+rts, one all black, the other black with the words Boyfriend Material scripted over the center. "What am I in the mood to wear?" he wondered aloud.

"Dude. I'm seriously about to take away your man card."

"That's fine. I've got two."

Beck grabbed the s.h.i.+rt with text, tossed it on the floor and wiped his shoes on it. "This one's dirty. Wear the one in your hand."

"Well, well. Someone's certainly cranky today."

Someone had an a.s.s-kicking to deliver.

A buzz sounded from West's desk. Beck walked over and swiped up his friend's phone, just in case Dorian had decided to circ.u.mvent Beck. Maybe ask for a condom. When he saw a message from Jessie Kay, he tossed the phone at West.

"You might want to see this."

West peered down at the screen, features tightening with anger as he studied the pictures the girl had sent. One of her and Daniel Porter, and one of her and Dorian Oliver. The text read, Need an honest unbiased opinion. Which 1 should I choose????

"Let's go." West was already striding toward the door.

Now that was more like it.

As they settled in Beck's car, another text from Harlow came in. He almost couldn't bring himself to look. Almost.

GUSS WHATTTT? Dori-that's wat I cal him now-scarred Scott away 4 me. He's may new hero. I ow him. What should I giv him???? Do U kno if he liks cherries?

Beck put the pedal to the metal.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

ALL h.e.l.l BROKE LOOSE.

Harlow and her whiskey sisters had indeed drunk straight from the bottle, and after they'd finished the good stuff, they'd turned to the hard, cheap stuff. They'd talked and laughed too loud and almost gotten kicked out of Two Farms. Then, about an hour ago, Dorian arrived and Jessie Kay explained the life or death plan-make Beck wish he were dead-or you know, married.

Dorian had taken a page from Beck's playbook and given Mr. Calbert, the owner, a wad of cash to rent the restaurant for the rest of the day, and the other patrons were escorted out. Except for the superadorable Daniel Porter, whom Jessie Kay had texted and asked to join them.

"It's been five whole minutes," Brook Lynn said. "Time for another picture. Kenna! Camera!"

Ever obedient, Harlow posed on Dorian's lap yet again while Kenna snapped more pictures and Dorian told her all about his double date with Beck.

"I'm serious," Dorian said. "The guy had zero interest in his girl and talked about his 'little hag' all night."

"That's cool, I guess." If cool was the new word for awesome. She couldn't even bring herself to be offended by the nickname.

"Okay, y'all. I've got a brilliant idea about digital strip poker," Jessie Kay called, motioning to Harlow's phone. "Tell Beck all about it, so he can tell West."

Harlow started typing as Jessie Kay explained the rules.

I'm gona get nakid.

That should cover all the details right? Send.

"Now," Harlow said to Dorian. "Tell me more. About the date, about Beck, about everything." Was the room spinning?

Holding her up to prevent her from falling, Dorian said, "If you want him, he's yours, and even if he's loath to admit it-even to himself-he'll be the best d.a.m.n boyfriend you've ever had. I remember the way he used to look at couples who were clearly in love. He wanted what they had, just couldn't admit it then, either. Stick it out, and he'll realize the truth. Growing up in the system can really mess you up. He just needs to heal."

Yeah, but how much time? Would she end up broken in the process?

Maybe, but wounds could be kissed better.

"You Strawberry Valley girls must be addictive," Dorian remarked, peering at Jessie Kay, who was now dancing around the room. "I've been warned away from the Dillon sisters."

"Jase is gaga over Brook Lynn, but who told you to stay away from Jessie Kay?"

The front door burst open before he could reply, and Beck and West came storming into Two Farms like avenging angels. Harlow's heart kicked into a frenzied beat. The plan had actually worked? Beck scanned the room and when his gaze landed on her, he closed in.

Meanwhile, West marched over to Jessie Kay.

"Showtime." Dorian helped Harlow stand.

The swiftness of the action caused her stomach to lurch. "Curses! I think I'm going to be sick."

Beck reached her a second later and gently extracted her from his friend. "Time to go. Now."

Sick could wait. The man of her dreams was here! She threw her arms around him and tried to climb him like a mountain.

He held on to her while lecturing Dorian. The words were lost to her, a strange buzz in her ears. Beck anch.o.r.ed her against him and petted her hair, and she must have pa.s.sed out after a few minutes, held so comfortingly in his embrace, because the next thing she knew she was floating... No, she was being tossed here and there in the deep end of an ocean. Her stomach gave another lurch, and she moaned.

Floating again...a hard jostle.

"Don't worry, baby," Beck said. "I've got you."

She was on her knees in a cornfield, she realized. Beck held on to her hair as she leaned over and threw up every drop of liquid she'd consumed that day, and maybe five days prior. When she finished, darkness descended over her mind and she was floating again...cool clouds settling beneath her, a chilled wet cloth wiping over her brow, her mouth.

"Beck," she moaned.

"I told you. I'm here. I'll always be here for you."

With those words echoing in her mind, soothing her in a way nothing else could have, she drifted off to sleep.

GROANING, HARLOW HISSED at the sunlight streaming in through the window.

Was she sick?

Oh...c.r.a.p. She was worse, she thought, memories from last night downloading straight into her brain. She was still alive.

"Here. Take these."

Beck's voice, but it was far too loud. Slowly she turned her head toward him. He stood at the edge of the bed. His bed. He held out two white pills and a gla.s.s of water.

Why was he being so nice to her? "Thanks," she muttered, swallowing the pills and a gulp of ice-cold water. Her stomach protested at first but soon settled down.

He set the gla.s.s on the nightstand and eased beside her. "We need to talk."

"I know. I'm sorry about yesterday and Dorian and-"

"Harlow," he said, stopping her with a finger pressed against her lips. "What are you apologizing for? I'm thinking about making whiskey a necessary part of your diet. Do you have any idea how handsy you get?"

Wait. "You're not mad at me?"

A flicker of pain in eyes now dark with regret. "If I were mad, would I have called every guy I know to throw a party in your honor?"

Wait. What? "A party?"

"In your honor."

"With every guy you know in attendance?"

His fingers curled around the comforter, pulling so tight he nearly ripped the material. "We're still on the hunt for your forever man, aren't we?"

It was like taking a knife to the gut. Or a hammer to the head.

He still planned to set her up with someone else.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she blinked them away. "When is the party set to begin?"

A muscle jumped in his jaw. "In just a few hours."

The hard lump growing in her throat nearly cut off her airway. "How did you get everyone to agree so quickly?" And why the hurry?

"I was owed a few favors."

And he'd decided to call them in-to get rid of her sooner rather than later. "Well, then. A party we shall have," she said, trying to sound excited, sounding hollow instead.

He offered her a bright smile, but for once, it lacked any kind of light. "Great," he said. "I made it a lunch event rather than a dinner one, so we can spend the evening talking about your impression of the guys."

"Great," she echoed. "Unless I decide to go home with someone."

He went stiff as a board. "You will not put out on the first date."

"Like you can really stop me."

Ignoring her words, he said, "I went shopping in your RV and picked out a dress, brought it and all your makeup over. You can get ready here."

"Thanks. A girl couldn't ask for a better friend."

"We are friends." He reached out, ghosted his knuckles along her jaw.

The touch, slight though it was, blindsided her, as always, sending electric pulses arcing through her, making her ache and burn. When would his effect on her fade?

"Friends," she agreed.

Staring at her intently, he said softly, "I want to be more, Harlow. You know that. But I'm not a forever guy."

"Why?" Need made her desperate, and desperation made her reckless. "Why do you give so little of yourself?"

He smiled his most indulgent smile, and it made little parts of her die inside, but as she stared at him, she began to notice a brittle edge to the expression. "Honey, I give the best part of me."

"No. No." She banged a fist against the bed. "Stop deflecting. Stop charming. You're breaking my heart. The least you can do is tell me the truth."

All at once, it was as if a light inside him died out, his eyes suddenly a never-ending pit of darkness. "I'm...messed up."

"So am I!"

"Harlow," he said, voice raw, almost guttural. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't. We could be happy together. You just have to give us a chance."

"Harlow." He combed his fingers through her hair, urging her forward, hugging her close to his chest as if she were precious, and in that moment, that second, she fell totally and completely in love with him. The knowledge shone brighter than the sun, sending shadows of the past fleeing.