The Hotter You Burn (30 page)

“Don't you see?” He whirled on them, taking a moment to explain because he owed them and didn't want them to worry. “I've always expected the worst from everyone, so I've always cut and run. Except with you two, because I saw myself in you. But I see myself in her, too. I see her pain and her need to connect—needs I share—and I'm not going to hold anything back anymore. I'm not going to worry about the future, or what will or will not happen. I'm going to do what's right, what I should have done the moment I met Harlow.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

H
ARLOW
 
BLINKED
 
RAPIDLY
 
to clear the fog currently obscuring her vision.
The lights in the room were too bright, tears dried and crusted around her
burning eyes. Her ears picked up a slow
beep
,
beep
, and when
she turned her head, she found a bank of machines with flashing lights and
numbers, connected to tubes, and the tubes were connected to her arms. A woman
and a man she'd never met stood beside her bed, discussing heart rate and
vitals.

She frowned. She was in a hospital?

Yeah. Made sense. She remembered throwing up on Mayor Trueman
and being carried away from the festival in Beck's arms. Now there was a strange
heaviness to her limbs, a shakiness she wasn't used to experiencing.

“Beck,” she said. Or rather, tried to say. Her throat was sore,
her voice nothing more than a whisper.

The man in the lab coat heard her, however, and patted her
hand. “Harlow, I'm Dr. Lowe. You're at St. Joseph's hospital in Oklahoma City,
and you've been very sick. We removed a tube from your throat, which is why
you're having a bit of trouble speaking. But don't worry, the discomfort will
pass.”

A tube down her throat—she'd needed help
breathing
?

“Where's Beck?” She needed Beck.

“We'll talk about him in a minute,” Dr. Lowe said. He propped
his hip against the side of her bed. He wasn't very tall, and was a bit on the
heavy side, his features stern. “Do you know why you're here?”

“I was sick.”

“Not just sick. Harlow, you were poisoned. Thankfully, you've
responded to the medications very well. You'll make a full recovery with no
lasting damage.”

Her mind got stuck on a single word. “Poisoned?”
But...but...how? And by whom? So few people hated her now. Right? And she'd done
nothing to anger anyone. Had she?

“It was a prank gone horribly wrong, apparently. Someone from
your hometown put eyedrops in your tea. You slipped into a coma four days
ago.”

Wait, wait, wait. “I don't understand.” Four days?

“When confronted by your police chief, the culprits confessed
to their crimes. I don't remember their names, I'm sorry. There were two women
and a man. They've been charged with contaminating a substance for human
consumption. They're lucky they weren't charged with attempted murder.”

“Beck,” she croaked. “Where is he?” He had to be worried. “I
want to see him.”

The doctor's expression remained impassive. “Let us finish
checking your vitals, all right?”

For the next half hour, she was poked and prodded and
questioned, and she did her best to keep her temper in check. Beck had to be
more than worried about her; he had to be freaking out. As poorly as he'd
handled her vomiting, she couldn't imagine what the coma had done to him.

Finally the exam ended, and the medical staff filed out of the
room.

“Don't forget to send in Beck,” she called.

The doctor stopped in the doorway. “I'm sorry to tell you this,
Miss Glass, but there isn't anyone in the waiting room for you.”

Harlow lay in the bed, heart stuttering in her chest. No one
was out there? Truly? “Maybe he's in the cafeteria?”

His half smile was not reassuring. “Yes, I'm sure that's it.”
He shut the door with a soft click. “Give him time. He'll arrive soon
enough.”

No way Beck would have left her, even for a minute. Unless the
thought of losing her—as he'd lost so many other people in his life—had pushed
him over the edge. He might have abandoned her in an effort to protect
himself.

No way in hell
. She wasn't going to think the worst of
the man she loved and trusted with her fragile heart. But she
was
going
to find him.

She maneuvered her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Her
knees instantly buckled, her weight too much to hold, and if not for the
bedrail, she would have toppled. When she felt more stable, she transferred her
grip to the pole with her IV and catheter bags. Her paper-thin gown gaped in the
back, but she couldn't hold it closed
and
hold herself up.

With as much dignity as she could muster considering her
backside was bared, she worked her way to the door, the hallway, calling, “Beck!
Beck!”

The nurse who'd poked and prodded her rushed over to latch on
to her and prop her up. “What do you think you're doing? You shouldn't be out of
bed.”

“Beck!” Thankfully, she managed to do more than squeak this
time. “Where is he? I know he's here. He wouldn't have left me.” Tears beaded in
her eyes. “He wouldn't.”

Taking pity on her, the nuse said, “All right, sweetie. We'll
go have a peek in the waiting room.” She helped Harlow bumble onward.

Six people sat in the cushioned chairs, watching TV or reading
magazines, and one slept on the couch. But none of them were Beck, or any of her
friends.

“He's...he's not here.” The tears spilled over, and a sob
bubbled up, nearly choking her.

“I'm sorry, sweetie. I really am. Men can be pigs.”

“Not mine. He's—”

“Harlow? Harlow!”

Beck! She turned, practically collapsing with relief when he
raced from the elevators. West, Jase, Brook Lynn and Jessie Kay were in tow.

A second later, Beck had her wrapped in his arms, his callused
hands meeting the bare skin of her back, offering the comfort she'd so
desperately craved. Her tears came more freely, but this time they sprang from
relief. He was here, and he was with her.

“I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you woke up, love.” He tied
her gown closed at her waist, while still allowing a slit for his hand. “Dr.
Lowe told us you'd come out of the coma but that the sedatives in your system
wouldn't wear off for another few hours, giving us plenty of time to finish our
errands before you actually woke up. But here you are, alive and well.” In his
eyes, unadulterated relief mixed with elation.

“I didn't want to believe you'd left me, that the fear of
losing me was too much.” Her voice was small, needy, but she didn't care. Trust
and share.

“I will never leave you, love. Never.” He drew back only far
enough to cup her cheeks. “You are
everything
to me. I just had to run
a a few errands.”

“We all love you, Harlow,” Brook Lynn said. “You're one of us,
and we will always be here for you.”

“You're our whiskey sister.” Jessie Kay fist-pumped the sky.
“Whiskey sisters, unite!”

She smiled at them, the girls who'd forgiven and accepted her
and the guys who'd welcomed her with open arms. But her smile faded as she
studied their formal attire. Tuxes on the men, glittering gowns on the
women.

Even Beck wore a tux, looking sexy and almost too beautiful to
touch. “Why are you so dressed up?”

“For a party,” Beck said.

“Okay, you guys.” The nurse clapped her hands to ensure she had
everyone's attention. “This is sweet and all, but I've got to put a stop to it.
Miss Glass needs to be in bed.”

“Then let's put her in bed.” Beck scooped her up, while West
followed them, the IV pole in hand.

Harlow leaned her head against the strong shoulder she'd come
to rely on. In her room, Beck gently laid her on the gurney and tucked the
blanket around her legs. She would have pulled him beside her, but the nurse
hooked a monitor to her chest before leaving.

“What party?” Harlow asked when the woman left, picking up the
conversation as if there'd never been a lull. “Why did you leave? What errands
did you have? And just so we're being open and honest with each other, whatever
you say, I'm not going to think it's good enough.”

His lips twitched at the corners. “Thank you for being open and
honest.”

“Welcome. Now answer me, please.”

He brushed his knuckles over her jaw, the caress tender and
reverent. “Since you fell ill, I've had to do some soul-searching about what I
really want for my future.”

Her heart monitor sped up, the fast beep embarrassing.

“Without you, my future would be bleak. Harlow Glass,” he said,
dropping to one knee and holding out a ring box. Inside glittered the biggest
diamond she'd ever seen. “Will you marry me?”

Shock played havoc with her reasoning. “Excuse me?”

“I want to marry you, and I want to start a family with you. I
want as many little Harlows as I can get. I want you to be my painter slash
trophy wife. I want to take care of you, and to be taken care of by you. I want
to share the farmhouse with you, and only ever cook my famous breakfast for you.
I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up to you every morning, and
tug you into the shower anytime during the day.”

“But...but...” This was more than she'd ever dreamed possible,
her every wish coming true right before her eyes. “The cage...”

“You didn't cage me, love. You set me free.” He slid the ring
onto her finger. “The party is for you, to celebrate your precious life...and
our engagement—if you'll have me.”

She placed her hand over her racing heart, the diamond glinting
in the light. “Beck.”

“Say yes. Tell me we can do a small ceremony as soon as
possible, finally make you mine legally, then do a big one later on. I'm not
sure how much longer I can go without knowing you are lawfully bound to me.”

“Beck,” she said again, tremors sweeping through her.

“I love you, Harlow. Every part of me loves every part of you.
There is nothing I won't do for you, and nothing I won't do to keep you. You're
it for me. My one. My only. And it would be an honor—a privilege—to be the man
you choose to spend your precious life with. To create a family with you. To
watch your belly grow big with my child. To be what you need and what you want.
Now and always.”

Tears of joy filled her eyes. But he wasn't done.

“I won't allow fear to lead me anymore. I won't push you away,
won't let you push me away. I am happy now, and I see happiness in the future.
I'm holding on tight to you, baby, and I'm never letting go. I'm crazy, sick,
devastatingly in love with you, and I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strong right
now, but no, that's not true. I'm not really sorry. You're mine, and I'm yours.
Our issues can go to hell where they belong. You and I, we belong together.”

Jessie Kay opened the door a crack and stuck her head inside
the room. “Say yes already. Listening from the hallway is harder than you'd
think.”

“And don't forget,” Beck added. “If you say yes, you'll get to
live in the farmhouse again. You can paint murals on every single wall. In fact,
I'll insist on it.”

As if Harlow needed more encouragement. This man owned her, and
had from the beginning. “Yes,” she said with a laugh. “Yes.”

The others spilled into the room, cheering. Beck kissed Harlow
right on the mouth, not seeming to care that she'd been in a coma and hadn't
brushed her teeth since. He didn't seem to care about anything but her, because
he treasured her, and he planned to spend the rest of his life cherishing
her.

The way she would cherish him, through the ups and through the
downs. “Just so you know,” she said, “this is a big change. A true life-altering
one.”

“Love, as long as your feelings for me stay the same,
everything else is inconsequential.”

She gripped the collar of his jacket. “My feelings aren't
something you ever have to worry about. I love you so much. You are and always
will be more than enough for me.”

“Not even poisoning and a near-death experience could keep her
away from you,” Jessie Kay said, patting him on the shoulder. He flinched, and
she laughed. “What? Too soon to joke about?”

“I'll be ready to joke about this in...never,” he said.

Harlow scooted over and patted the bed, and he crawled in
beside her, drawing her to his chest.

“What's going to happen to Tawny, Charlene and Scott?” she
asked.

“They're going to spend a little time behind bars,” Jase said.
“Felonies are a bitch, and not something you can sweep under a rug.”

Harlow should have been overjoyed by the news, but she wasn't.
She wasn't even mad at the threesome. Not really. Did she think she deserved
what they'd done? No. Not anymore, and not ever again. Beck was right. She'd
paid for her crimes, and she was a different person now. But the misery of
others no longer made her feel better about the misery of her own life. Not that
she was miserable anymore. Because of Beck, she'd never been happier.

“I'm going to agree to a supersmall, superfast wedding because
I want to get rid of the H.A.G. initials as soon as possible. But I'm also going
to take you up on your offer of a second, larger wedding,” she said to Beck. “I
want the women of Strawberry Valley to witness our vows, even though I'm pretty
sure they'll attend in funeral attire, mourning the loss of their Beck.”

As the others beamed at her, Beck kissed her temple. “I'm not
their anything, love. I'm yours. Now and forever.”

* * * * *

Read on for an extract from THE HARDER YOU FALL by Gena Showalter.