Harlow: A Military Bad Boy Romance: The Bradford Brothers (12 page)

I’m not one to usually propose toasts, or even one to drink to them. But there is just something about this guy that has me doing everything differently than I normally do.

I have to admit I’m impressed with the location he chose. This has
got
to be a date, right? And is that a good thing or a bad thing?

I’d waited an hour to text him my address, unsure whether I should actually go through with it. I don’t want to jeopardize my career before it’s even gotten started. But it was just too tempting.

So then I’d spent an hour trying to figure out the perfect thing to wear. I’d finally decided that there
is
no such thing, and I’d thrown on something cute enough to be date- like but hopefully casual enough to be… whatever the opposite of date- like is. Just in case I was
not
actually going on a date with the guy who had pretty much asked me out on a date… I think?

I’m pleased that he clearly liked the clothes I’d chosen. But I’m still trying to maintain the difficult balance between date- like and professional- like, if there even is such a thing.

I think that as long as we talk about neutral things like our careers, we should be fine. But I wasn’t expecting things to delve into the serious so soon.

“And what about you?” Harlow asks, leaning over to brush a stray hair that had fallen over one of my eyes. The wind is picking up a bit while the sun is going down. I have to admit that it’s quite…
romantic.
“How did you decide to become a physical therapist?”

“Process of elimination, I guess.” I shrug. “Within the medical field, at least.”

“Yes?”

He obviously wants me to go on, but I suddenly feel vulnerable. I don’t usually talk to people about things like this. My idea of being social is joining a book club or asking my cat what his day was like.

“I set out to be a doctor. Pre- med and all of that.”

I look up at him to see if he’ll think this is funny. Most people do. But he looks as serious and as nonplussed as if I had just told him I brush my teeth every day.

“But…?” he asks.

The waiter brings our food, and I bite into a delicious calamari ring before continuing.

“Mmmm, this is so good,” I say, sincerely. “Good choice!”

He shrugs. “I try.”

After a pause, he asks, “So what happened to the pre- med plans?”

“It’s just… difficult. I didn’t think I could do it. Physical therapy made more sense. It’s easier, yet still fulfilling.”

“I see.”

He bites into his cheese and crackers but doesn’t say anything for a minute. And then he says, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a great physical therapist.”

“Thanks,” I say, trying hard to surprise my laughter. “But you haven’t really gotten to see me in action. You’re too easy of a case.”

“Not enough of a challenge for you, huh?” he asks. “Well, you just wait.”

I pull up to Whitney’s apartment and walk her to the door. She turns around to face me.

“I had a lovely time. Thank you.”

“I did too,” I tell her, and even though it’s the kind of bullshit thing that people usually say after any date, I really mean it this time. “Thanks for celebrating with me.”

“Any time.”

It sounds like an invitation, so I draw in closer to her.

I smell the lingering scent of calamari and cheese but I also smell
her
. An enticing mix of lotion and subtle yet sweet natural body odor.

“I want to kiss you,” I tell her, my mouth already against her soft lips.

She opens her lips a bit wider and I slip my tongue into her wet mouth. I grab hold of her hips and draw them closer to mine.

Time stands still as we kiss, until I’m pulling at her hair and rubbing up against her in nearly an animal- like state. She has me so fuckin’ hard, and wanting her so badly.

“I want to fuck you,” I tell her.

She pulls away, slowly.

“Not… yet. Not now.”

She smooths down her hair but the way she is breathing tells me she’s into it. So what the hell?

I’m not used to chicks turning me down. Denying me the one thing I want. And I haven’t wanted anyone this bad for a long, long time. Maybe ever.

“Soon, then,” I tell her, lightly slapping her ass as she reaches for her keys.

“Yes,” she says, and stands on her tip- toes to kiss me on the chin before retreating into her house.

Damn. That fucking girl
.

As soon as I’m in the car, I call Jensen.

“So you called it an early night?” he asks, as soon as he picks up. “Guess it didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?”

“No, it went fine,” I tell him, feeling strangely elated for some reason. “It was great. Except, she didn’t give it up.”

“Aww man,” says Jensen, as if he can feel my physical pain. “I remember those days. Oh well, on to the next, right?”

“She said, ‘soon.’”

I know I sound like a schoolboy full of unabated hope, but I can’t help it.

“Uh oh. You know what that sounds like?”

“I know.”

“She’s dragging you along. She’s holding out. For a
commitment
. Or some other crazy reason these chicks have.”

I sigh. I don’t even care. I just want to see her again.

Sure, I’ll see her again at my sessions but I want to her look at me like that, and talk to me like that, and kiss me like that. And let me do what I want to her, over and over and over again.

“Harlow,” says Jensen, snapping me back to reality. “Tell me you aren’t falling for your physical therapist.”

“I’m not. I mean, I don’t know. I mean…”

“Harlow! Get a grip.”

“Oh look who’s talking. You fell for your fucking lawyer.”

“She wasn’t my lawyer at the time,” Jensen says quickly and defensively.

But I don’t buy any of his flimsy excuses. Jensen met his now- girlfriend when she was assigned to represent him in a bogus criminal charge. For a while she might not have been his attorney, but that’s just mincing words. I know their history, and he can’t deny it now.

“Yeah yeah. You’re the pot and I’m the kettle.”

“Harlow, seriously,” Jensen says, and I can hear it in his voice. “I’m happy for you. And if you manage to bang your physical therapist I’m all for it. But just don’t get too close, emotionally. To a woman who has the power to make you or break you. It really is different than with Riley?”

“How?”

“Because this girl knows she has control over the one thing you want the most in the world.”

“Oh, you mean like Riley did over your
freedom
? Whether or not you went to
jail
?” I can’t help but laugh.

“Harlow. I get it. I see your point. But there were a hundred different lawyers I could have turned to if things hadn’t worked out. She is the physical therapist they assigned you, and don’t you think Dr. Davis had something to do with that? What do you think
he
would say? Why don’t you go ask your
mentor
what
he
thinks about you being not only sexually but romantically involved with your physical therapist? Not only a one- night- fling or a friendly flirtation to keep things interesting in between your push- ups, but a real deal
relationship
?”

He has me there. I have no idea what’s been up with Dr. Davis lately but I’m relatively certain he wouldn’t approve.

“And anyway Harlow, what are you even doing? You don’t even do relationships.”

“I know someone else who used to have that same mantra. Now he’s practically living with some chick he wanted to bang and move on from, just like all the rest.”

He’s silent. I’ve won.

“I guess they’re just like all the rest… until, for whatever reason, they’re not,” he concedes.

“Yeah. For whatever reason.”

“Well good luck little brother. But don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

This morning when I get into work I call Dr. Davis first thing, before I can forget. I receive his voicemail and I leave a message, informing him of Harlow’s positive progress and asking if he would like to talk further about perhaps changing his treatment plan to be more suitable.

I start out on some paperwork but my mind is still on Harlow. That kiss was electrifying and unlike anything I’d ever experienced with Tony or anyone else.

I’m already wondering when it can happen again. I’m wondering what will happen if I don’t stop him next time. If I let him do all the things to me that he wants to do, and that I want him to do…

Luckily, I have a patient coming in and I know that working with him will keep me focused. I’ve never liked the paperwork aspect of this job nearly as much as I enjoy being with the clients hands- on. My grades are good but my clinic evaluations are always top notch.

As I work with the patient my mind continues to flutter back and forth to Harlow. Much like my heart. I’m sad that I don’t get to see him today. But I am going to play it cool and not call or text him. I watch enough romantic comedy movies to know that’s not a good idea.

When I’m finished with the patient, I check my office voicemail only to find that I still haven’t heard back from Dr. Davis. So I walk down the hall to discuss notes and treatment plans with Lance. Secretly I also want to tell him about my “date” with Harlow, and how well everything is going.

But after I knock on his door, he doesn’t look as happy to see me as he usually does.

“Hello Whitney.”

It’s such a formal greeting from him, one that I’m definitely not used to.

“Hello Lance.”

I try to mimic his robot- like voice.

“Thanks for dropping in on my session with Harlow yesterday,” I continue. “I’m glad you were able to see that—”

“Yeah, about that.” He frowns. “About this whole
Harlow
thing. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and I really don’t want to know, but I just think you should be careful.”

“I am. I haven’t…”

“I’m not talking about
sleeping
with him. I’m talking about whatever you’re doing during his treatment that is contrary to Dr. Davis’ wishes.”

“What?”

“Look. If I knew more of what was going on, I would say more. All I know is that Dr. Davis has contacted the facility…”

“He has? Today? Well good. I’ve been trying to reach him.”

“That’s probably not a good idea, Whitney. Let the higher- ups deal with him. I have no idea what’s going on with him and maybe you’re right that he’s less than up front about things.”

He takes a cautious look around, as if someone could have possibly come into his office to eavesdrop on us without us knowing. I guess he really is worried about something.

“But apparently,” he continues, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper, “he’s not happy with Harlow’s treatment. There’s going to be some meeting about it and we’ll all know more soon. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this much. But what I do know is that I’m to take over his treatment until this is all ironed out.”

“You’re to… but why?”

Despite my best efforts, my eyes well up with tears. I had thought everything was going so well in every way possible, only to find out that the exact opposite is true. I should have known not to get my hopes up.

“I’ve done everything by the book. Harlow is excelling. I don’t understand…”

“It’s probably better this way anyway,” Lance says. “It’s never a good idea to be so emotionally invested in a client. And this way I can protect you from any allegations of incompetence.”

“
Incompetence
?”

“I’m not saying that there
are
allegations. I’m just saying that I know you do good work and I want you to do as well here as you possibly can. So if there’s a… problematic client… it’s best you stay out of that mess. Let a more experienced person with job security handle it, while you stay in safer pastures.”

I’m crushed. Here I was thinking that working with Harlow was an exciting challenge that was going to propel my career forward, when in fact it’s a ticking time bomb.

“All right.”

I can’t think of anything else to say, or at least anything I
should
say.

“It’s okay, love,” Lance says, patting me on the shoulder sympathetically, turning back into the boss and friend I know and love. “I know it’s difficult, but you’re just beginning to see bureaucracy in action.”

Well okay. If that’s all it is.

I try to hold my head up high as I leave the office. But I can’t help feeling as if I’ve done something terribly wrong.

And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever be able to see Harlow again.