Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
The kiss deepens as I move her head to the side, both of my hands in her hair, cupping her head, forcing the kiss to go deeper. Her hands grip my sides, and I pull her to me. This time, she’s the one moaning into my mouth. A knock on the door makes us both jump away from each other. My eyes fly open and go to the door and then back to Harmony. Her chest heaves as I hear Autumn’s voice. “Brady?” She knocks on the door.
“Yeah, the door handle broke off,” I answer to the door, trying not to sound like I’m winded or all the blood has been drained from my body with just one fucking kiss that lasted less than a couple of minutes. My eyes watch Harmony’s as she avoids even looking in my direction. Her hands at her sides, which were just bunched at my waist, now hang motionless. The sound of the handle from the other side slides out, and I bend to see out of it. “There is a screwdriver in the warehouse.”
“On it,” Charlie says, and I hear footsteps walking away from the door.
“Are you okay?” My voice is almost in a whisper as I ask her, hoping like fuck she turns and looks my way. She puts her palm against her cheek, then the other cheek. “Harmony,” I call her name and then stop when she still avoids looking at me. When I hear voices coming closer to the closet, I stop talking to her as I hear Charlie tinkering with the door before it’s pulled open. My eyes watch her the whole time, wanting to talk to her about the kiss, but knowing with my sister and Charlie outside the door, it really is not a good time.
She walks out before I can say anything to her. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she walks past Autumn, looks at her, and then stares at me.
“What did you do to her?” she asks, looking at me and then back over her shoulder. “Were you mean to her?”
I gasp. “Of course I wasn’t mean to her.”
“Hey,” Janelle says, sticking her head into the room, “my tables just left. Can I punch out?”
“Yeah,” I say to her as she waves her fingers at me. “Take her home, will you?” I look over at Charlie, who just stares at me. I avoid looking at him, pretty much the same way Harmony avoided looking at me.
I grab the case of water, then leave the stock room, propping the door open and walking behind the bar. I see Harmony smiling at her tables as she comes back and goes to the POS, waiting for the ticket to come out, and placing it down on the counter. I grab the ticket and the two of us work silently with each other. I only hear her voice when she’s talking and laughing with the customers, who fall under her spell. I even catch a couple of them trying to check out her ass when she walks away, and it takes everything I have not to toss them out.
I’m cleaning behind the bar when the last table gets up and leaves, making sure they wave at me and then Harmony before heading out. She cleans up the table, coming back with the glasses and putting them in the dishwasher before grabbing the rag and the spray bottle.
She walks toward the tables, wiping them all down. My mouth wants to say something to her,
but every time it opens, nothing comes out. Not one fucking word. Not one fucking syllable. Not one fucking thing. It’s like all the words I know are gone. I watch her moving from one table to the next, I try to hurry on my side and make sure we finish together. She makes it to the last table at the same time I finish wiping down the bar. “Is that all there is?” she asks me, and I put my hands on my hips. The guilt about fucking up and kissing her is roaring up my spine.
No, my head screams that is not it. “Yeah,” I say to her instead of forcing her to talk about what happened in the closet.
She nods at me, walking back to the closet as I put my hands in fists on the bar and hang my head. She is about to walk past the bar when I push off and join her. She looks over her shoulder, and I can see she’s wondering what the fuck is going on.
“It’s late,” I tell her as I go to her side. “I’m going to walk you to your car.”
“That’s unnecessary,” she mumbles, stuck in her spot.
“We can stand here and argue about it”—I cock my hip—“or you can let me walk you to your car.” She looks at me. “And while we are talking about things, we can discuss what happened in there.” I motion with my head toward the closet.