Authors: Jennifer Rose
“You have a very valid point,” Harley agreed. “I’ll take the contract to EJ myself, Garner’s in my department let me handle it. Besides, it will be better if we keep you out of this.”
Harley held up his left hand, his third finger was bare, with an ever so slight indentation remaining were his wedding band once graced it. It was only a piece of titanium, not like it meant anything, but my heart hurt just the same. I was stupidly feeling unwanted and dejected, even though I was told not to expect more from day one. I was letting my emotions rule my heart.
Detach emotionally
, I reminded myself.
Detach, detach, detach
.
“You need to get rid of yours too,” he told me. “People like Garner don’t need fuel.”
I didn’t dare look at my hand in fear Harley would see how much this was affecting me. I touched my ring with my thumb and twirled it. There was no way it was ever leaving my hand, not until death do us part. Or the six month mark chimed on the clock at midnight, which ever came first.
“What are you scared of, Harley?” I asked, “That clients might not be happy or that the world will find out that Harley Cooper is gay and has a husband? I wonder which you think would be worse.”
“You need to understand,” Harley leaned closer. “My job depends on the clients I bring in. I brought in some of the biggest to this company, major players, and without them I don’t have a job. I can’t rely on being a member of the family to guarantee my position.”
“Did you actually say that?” I was awed. “In case you didn’t notice, my family was not exactly falling over themselves to support me when the chips were down. You have one advantage though…without you here bringing in those big name clients, this company has jack-shit. That puts you in the driver’s seat. Besides, EJ’s not going to let clients up and walk away, they’re bound by iron clad contracts.”
Harley was making up excuses, there was more going on than he was telling.
“I’m not so sure,” Harley shook his head, staring at the table.
There had to be more, I had a feeling this had something to do with those
certain people
he had talked about during Chivas night.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” I told him, but he never took his eyes from the tablecloth nor did he say anything. “Maybe we should call it a day and end this farce now, before it goes too far.”
Silence was a formidable thing, it gave no answers and yet held them all. And in that taxing silence there sat Harley. He was almost impossible to read, I wouldn’t say he was a mood swinger but he had his moods. The man I was falling for was so off limits, sadly he was a pawn in a crazy game I’d created for self-centered reasons. I let out a pained sigh thinking of what I was doing to Harley’s seemingly picture perfect world.
“You don’t need me around making your life miserable.” The waitress came with our food and I finished my drink while she set it out, once she was done I continued, “We’ll go to the lawyer first thing in the morning and tell him things didn’t work out, we had irreconcilable differences or something.”
“I like having you around,” Harley openly announced, catching me off guard.
He was rearranging salad on his plate with no intention of eating it, just trying to busy his restless hands. I was riddled by confusion, he said one thing but his body language was telling me the opposite. This chaotic mess could only be my life, one cluster fuck followed by the next, a kind of domino effect. I wondered for a moment if they had any valium on the menu. I waved to the waitress and ordered another drink, because
that always helps
.
“I like being around,” I told him, honestly. “But if it’s going to cause problems for you at work,”
“Let’s agree that from the hours of nine to five, we maintain complete distance,” he suggested. “No coffee together, no lunches and I stay away from your office all together. While we are at work we will act as work colleagues only.”
“Colleagues,” I repeated.
“At home we do as we please,” His eyes finally met mine. “Behind closed doors, I do as I please with you.”
Meaning I cooked, I cleaned and I let him fuck my brains out, waking up every morning alone. Sex? Yes. Friends? Yes. Anything more? A big fat no!
My mouth with the help of too much Chivas ran off ahead of me, “I don’t like waking up alone,” I burst out. “I don’t want to wake up feeling like a fucking gigolo and I sure as fuck don’t go for fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em Charlie, do you know what I’m saying?”
Now it was Harley who looked confused at first, as his brows rose and his beautiful blue eye stared at me in question.
“You best elaborate,” he finally said, after an excruciatingly long pause.
I drew in a deep breath and let him have it. “I don’t expect you to treat me like I’m something special, like a boyfriend or something, but while we’re together I’d like to wake up beside you, like maybe I’m not just around for your pleasure only. I’d like to pretend that I mean something more, it doesn’t have to be real but for six months I’d like
not
to be alone. I want you to respect me.”
“There’s nothing pretty about me in the morning,” he joked. “I snore.”
“You probably fart and scratch your balls too, so?”
His eyes were studying me. He had to have seen the sincerity oozing from every pore in my body. I wasn’t asking too much. I wasn’t asking him to put his ring back on and announce to the world that we were a couple. I was more than willing to respect
his
wishes and keep it at home only. I simply wanted to feel…less alone.
“I’ll warn you,” Harley grumbled. “I can’t be there most mornings but I will promise to sleep in your bed every night. I like to work out early most days, so if I’m gone you’ll probably find me in the gym. It’s in a room at the back of the workshop.”
Harley Cooper had in fact conceded partly to my demand, at least he was going to be there when I fell asleep each night. Chalk one up for the nerdy accountant, I licked the tip of my finger and stroked an imaginary line on a chalkboard in the air, meeting Harley’s snicker.
“Was that a point for you?” he asked. “One, nothing I take it?”
“Something like that,” I laughed, watching with delight when the crease on Harley’s forehead faded into a smile.
“By the way,” Harley said. “I do respect you.”
“Where did you put it?” I asked, wiggling my ring finger for him to see.
“It’s in my pocket,” he reached into his pants pocket producing the black titanium band. “I didn’t throw it away if that’s what you were thinking.”
“Where are you going to keep it?”
Chewing the inside of his cheek, he narrowed his eyes and tipped his head to the side, then smiled. “I think it should go right here for now.” I watched as he slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand. “That way I can move it when our marriage is in question, like when we meet with that lawyer jerk on Monday.”
“Fuck, I forgot about that.”
A meeting had been set up with my grandfather’s lawyer to come by
our
apartment to see how we live, a formality really and unquestionably a huge inconvenience. We needed to get our shit together and fast.
“He’s going to be asking all kinds of personal shit,” I said, giving Harley my best Elvis lip. “Like what’s your favorite color, food etcetera. What am I going to say, Chivas and children’s cereal?”
“Uh huh, it’s the truth…It’ll be a breezy, I got this. I know plenty about you,” Harley said, taking a tart from the plate and cutting it into bite sized pieces with his fork. “You like blue, I know because you have a dozen blue shirts and you’ll eat everything with whole wheat pasta and veggies. You weigh yourself every morning like a neurotic teenage girl and you drink surprisingly expensive coffee, not that I’m complaining because it’s quite good.”
My mouth dropped open when I realized he knew so many stupid little things about me.
Should I be flattered
, I asked myself, no probably not. Harley was an observer that was all.
“You like to sleep with your hand tucked under your pillow, you bite the skin at the side of your nails when you’re nervous and you own like twelve different pairs of glasses, I know this because I find them laying all over the fucking house, even in the shower.”
He was paying more attention than I had ever imagined. I was pleased.
“You read male on male romance books,” Harley tipped his head, with a sneer. “You own an enormous collection of underwear, with socks to match and your shampoo smells like cardamom and lemons and you use up all the hot water when you shower. You can’t handle your booze worth shit and you get mouthy when you’re put on the spot.”
“Bullshit!”
Harley raised his brow, tipping his head with a defying smirk spread across his face.
“Your turn, mouthpiece,” he chuckled.
“I’d say your favorite color is blue too?”
“Nope,” he chuckled.
“Green?”
“No,” he laughed again. “I’m color blind, I don’t really have a favorite color. What color are your eyes?”
“Brown.”
“I like brown.” He smiled, before tipping up his glass to take another drink.
“Then how do you know I like blue?”
“I can distinguish between blue and green, it’s weird. Another oddity you needed to know,” he huffed, taking a bite of tart. “Eat while it’s still hot.”
The tart was very tasty, Harley had chosen well and I finished mine before continuing.
“You speak French,” I proclaimed, quite proud with myself.
“I also speak Spanish, German and I’m fluent in Italian,” he said. “I read and write in all of them as well.”
So much I didn’t know about the man I was rapidly falling for. Now that I was thinking about it, maybe what I was feeling was just lust.
“Maybe we should go with the condensed what you can’t do list,” I teased and he rolled his beautiful eyes with a laugh.
Something about his laugh, his smile and those eyes shot a tingle straight to my dick. He was the most exotic aphrodisiac. I didn’t think I could grow so hard so fast. He certainly had a way of fueling the fires.
No other man had made me feel the way Harley did, not that I had much experience. Not that it was proper etiquette to make comparisons, but the last guy I dated was less than adequate in the equipment area. Let me just say, he had a tough time rising to the occasion but worse of all his apparatus wasn’t too keen on staying up either. Talk about a slap to one’s ego. For the few months we were together I looked forward to cleaning the toilet more than I did having sex, sad to say, the toilet gave me more pleasure.
Thankfully Harley had no problem in the machinery department, his junk was immense, he knew how to use it and he had the stamina of a Greek idol. He was my very own Eros, for a few more months anyway.
“Hold out your hand,” Harley asked, searching the pockets of his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, he placed his keys into my hand. “I want another Chivas, you do too.”
“Oh, do I?” I tittered, dropping his keys into my jacket pocket.
On the tipsy side he was adorable, and when he got all primal and demanding, he was so sugary sweet I could quite literally take a bite out of him.
“I know you’re very bossy,” I said, adding my keys to his.
The corners of his mouth curled into a shit-eating grin as he sat back and flagged the waitress over. “Are you checking me out, baby?” he whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“You are,” he smirked. “You do it all the time…I like it.”
My face heated with embarrassment as I poked at my napkin with my fork and Harley cleared his throat resting his elbows on the table.
“Where did we leave off?” he asked. “Oh yeah, what I know about you. Let’s see…you like it better up the ass facing me and when you cum your nostrils flare and you make the sexiest noises while I make you tremble.”
“Careful,” I warned. “Someone might hear you and I don’t think the lawyer is going to be too concerned with the noises I make during sex. Where were you born? Holy shit, I don’t even know your fucking birthday.”
“I was born in Bordeaux, France. August eighth, nineteen bluh, bluh, bluh,” he said, into his cupped hand, making me laugh at his humor.
Was there anything ordinary about this guy? Did he do, say or possess anything unpretentious? After the few revelations he told this evening, I highly doubted it.
“Your turn,” he said, as the waitress came over. “Deux autres doubles se il vous plaît,”
I wanted so badly to ask him to say whatever it was he had just said over and over, possibly while he was fucking me senseless.
“I was born October seventh in glamorous Ontario, Canada.”
“Canada, eh?” Harley joked.
Like I hadn’t heard that joke a million times over, or how everyone figured all Canadians lived in igloos, it did nothing but snow twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year and we were all dumb as a stump.
“Where did you go to school?” I asked, not sure what direction to go in next.
“I got my Bachelor of Business Administration at the University of Glasgow, and completed my masters at Princeton,” he grinned.