Waiting for Prince Harry (19 page)

Harrison picks me up and I wrap my legs around him.

“I have a drink for you,” he says, kissing me again.

I laugh against his lips as I wind my hands around the nape of his neck. “Are you my cabana boy tonight?”

He laughs loudly and flashes me a huge smile. “For you, Gorgeous? Yes.
Hell yes
.”

We both laugh and Harrison carries me over to the other side of the pool, where I see a beer bottle and glass of white wine parked on the deck.

He puts me down and hands me the glass of wine.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip.
Mmmm
. It is a lovely Chardonnay and perfectly chilled, just right for a sultry evening outside.

Harrison picks up his beer bottle and takes a drink, and then puts it back down on the deck. He slides his hands down to my hips, to the ties on my bikini bottom and toys with the strings, which makes every nerve I have jump with desire.

“I’ve always loved Texas nights,” Harrison says slowly, his fingertips looping around the bikini strings, “but none more than tonight. I didn’t think anything could be hotter than you in my jersey, but this bikini trumps that. You’re wicked sexy this evening.”

“Thank you,” I say, winding my hands around his lower back.

“Sorry the water is so hot,” Harrison says, his fingertips still dancing seductively around the edges of my bikini bottom.

“Harrison, I think the water in this pool tonight was bound to be hot, regardless of the outdoor temperature,” I say flirtatiously.

“I like your style, Kylie Reed. Have I told you that before?”

I smile at him. “Tell me again, Harrison Flynn.”

“I like your style,” he murmurs.

Then Harrison kisses me again, his hands moving along my hips, my hands skimming his back. Oh, God, this is heaven. I’m convinced of it. Harrison is touching me and kissing me and I never want him to stop. I slide my hands up to his hair, raking it through his wet curls, and I relish the feel of his stubble brushing against my face. Harrison deepens the kiss and I moan against his lips, wanting more of him right now—

Suddenly I’m aware of lights coming on. I break the kiss and look up over Harrison’s fence. Several lights in the house next door have been turned on upstairs.

“What’s wrong?” Harrison gasps, cupping my face in his hands.

I furrow my brow. “Those lights,” I say, gazing over his shoulder.

Harrison turns and faces the house next door. Then he swings back at me, confusion on his handsome face. “So?”

“They can see us,” I say. And the idea of that gives me a bit of anxiety. After all, Harrison isn’t your ordinary neighbor. He’s Hockey God
Harrison Flynn
. People would be interested in seeing what he is doing and who he is doing it with—

“Should we wave and see if they wave back?” Harrison teases.

“Harrison, I’m being serious.”

“Hey,” Harrison says, cupping my face in his hands and staring deeply into my eyes. “Several things are in play here. First, this is Highland Park. Lots of high profile people live here, so I’m not a novelty. Second, nobody knows I bought this house. When they do figure that out, they’re going to see that I’m incredibly boring. Nobody is going to want to watch me carry trash to the dumpster in the driveway. And they will quickly see that the only thing interesting here is that I have a super sexy girlfriend. And despite the fact that
I
could spend all day staring at you, my guess is my neighbor is upstairs watching TV.”

I blush furiously from his compliment. “I don’t know about
that
, but I wish we had more privacy.”

“I’ll behave out here with you, Kylie, if that would make you more comfortable,” Harrison says, stroking his thumbs up and down my cheekbones. “But I won’t behave when we’re behind closed doors later. That’s a promise.”

I laugh softly. “I like your style.”

“So are you okay?”

I nod. He’s right. I’m overreacting because of being followed by the paparazzi this week, that’s all. “I am.”

“Good,” Harrison says, grinning at me. “Now where were we? Let me think about this.” Harrison then takes his fingertips and slowly traces them over my lips, sending shivers down my spine. “Ah, yes, I was right here,” he whispers, lowering his lips back on to mine for a slow kiss.

I melt into his arms. Suddenly all thoughts of the neighbors are wiped away. I surrender my complete attention to Harrison, the man I love.

And to endless possibilities later tonight.

Chapter 24

The Pop Quiz Question:
You are dating a celebrity (Congrats!) and you are attempting to go out on your first dinner date in public. How do you think it will go?

A) I like the attention as much as I like him so score.

B) I’m anxious about it, but I’m sure it will be fine. People will stare, but he chose me.

C) I tend to always prepare for the worst, so surely it won’t be as bad as the movie in my head, right?

I’m sitting on the floor of the master bathroom in the main house, removing hideous pink tiles from the floor with Harrison. My whole body just aches, as the physical labor is so much harder than it looks on Beautiful Homes Network. And I’m dirty and hot and sweat is pouring down my back.

And I’ve never had so much fun in my life.

I look over at Harrison. He has the chisel in the grout and is chipping the tiles out over on his side of the bathroom, while I work on mine.

I mean, how can this not be fun? We’re working together, sharing our visions for the renovated space. It’s just us, alone, and we’re talking about the future and what we can turn this home into. It’s our manual labor, our design, our dreams. We work hard, but laugh and talk and have fun while we do it. And at the end of the day we can play hard, too, as we proved last night . . .

But I realize for the first time in my life, I am living in the
now
. My dreams from my folders—clippings and printouts of the home I had in my head—are coming true. Not five years from now. Not when I get the perfect job. But I am actively
living
a dream with Harrison.

“Shit, what did they put these tiles down with?” Harrison says, interrupting my thoughts. He grabs his hammer-
whack!
—and smashes it into the center of a tile, shattering it. “These are a bitch to get out.”

I love you
, I think, watching as he struggles with the floor tile.

“And why
pink
?” Harrison continues, oblivious to the romantic musings going on in my head. “This is nauseating.”

I chuckle at his disgust. “Well, the spa-inspired, gray-colored bathroom I envision here will be much friendlier to your eyes.”

Harrison flashes me a huge smile. “I love the colors you put together for the master bedroom and bathroom.”

“I’m glad. I would’ve surprised you, but I wanted your approval, you know?” I say, chipping out a large tile. “But that’s me. No surprises.”

“Oh, you’re full of surprises, Kylie,” Harrison says, picking up pieces of tile. “You just don’t realize it.”

Suddenly my cell rings. I grab a towel and wipe my hands. Then I go out into the hallway, where I parked it, and look down at it.

“That better not be Prince Harry,” Harrison calls out good-naturedly.

I laugh to myself. Even if it were the real Prince Harry, he wouldn’t have a chance against
my
Prince Harry.

“It’s my mom,” I yell back. I answer the phone and walk down the hall a few feet. “Hello?”

“Hi, honey! How are you?”

“I’m really good,” I say honestly.

“Sweetie, I know it’s late notice, but I wanted to see if you could come out to Southlake tonight and meet us for dinner. Brandon and Candace are available, and we were wondering if you were up for Mexican food this evening.”

I wind my finger anxiously around a lock of my hair. Shit. I really wanted to spend this evening sketching, which is how I usually spend Sundays before I have to get ready to go to work. It relaxes me and puts me in a good frame of mind to take on Monday.

And I’m
dying
to sit down in my gorgeous studio, with Harrison reading in his chair, and see what that experience is like with my new tools and him being in the same room with me.

“Um . . .” I say, trying to figure out a graceful way to exit. “I-”

“And,” my mom exclaims, “we
insist
you bring Harrison. It’s about time we meet him, since the entire world knows you are dating him.”

Fuck.
Fuck
! My throat grows tight. One, at the thought of everyone knowing what I’m doing thanks to freaking social media and gossip, and two, I know Harrison didn’t want to go out in public much until this nonsense died down.

“Mom, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I say slowly. “It’s still really new. And we’re trying to stay out of the public eye—”

“Oh for God’s sake, Kylie. You aren’t out of the public eye. You’ve been posted twice this week alone on the ‘Out and About’ section of
Dallas Details
!”

Oh My God. Since I’m avoiding social media, I had no idea I was featured in
Dallas Details
, a hipster blog of what the cool and famous people of the city are out doing.

And what the hell am I doing on it? I’m not doing anything but dating Harrison Flynn.

Which apparently is enough to make me hip and cool—and paparazzi worthy, as pathetic as that whole scenario is.

I take a deep breath. “Mom, can we order in and eat at home?” I ask, praying she will do this.

“Brandon wants to go out, Kylie,” my mother says. “And I’m sure you are making this a bigger deal than it really is, sweetheart.”

I swallow. Once again, I’m supposed to just go along with everything. Not challenge. And I really don’t want to argue with my parents, who want to meet Harrison for the first time.

“Let me discuss this with Harrison and I’ll call you back, okay?” I say, capitulating.

Then I hang up.

I come back into the bathroom, and Harrison is sitting against a wall, drinking some of his bottled water. I sit down next to him and reach for his hand, entwining his fingers in mine.

“My family wants us to meet them for dinner tonight,” I say quietly. “I know it’s really soon for that. And I completely understand if you aren’t comfortable—”

“No, not at all,” Harrison says. Then he furrows his brow. “Unless you think it’s too soon for me to meet them, that is.”

“No,” I say, “I’m
excited
to introduce you to them, Harrison. But . . . they want to meet at a Mexican restaurant in Southlake. At 7.”

I study Harrison’s face. His eyes flicker, and I instantly know he hates this idea.

“Oh fuck,” Harrison says, rubbing his hand over his face. Then he draws a breath and exhales. “I really didn’t want to throw you into the fishbowl this soon.”

I nod. “I know,” I say softly.
And I love you for wanting to protect me like that
.

“But your family is important to you,” Harrison says, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand back and forth. “So therefore, they’re important to me. And if you want to do this Kylie, I’ll do it. I just hope . . .” Harrison pauses for a moment, then continues. “. . . I just hope after tonight you won’t change your mind about me,” he says quietly.

I feel my throat swell up. “That,” I say, squeezing his hand tightly, “is not possible.”

“You say that
now
. But going to dinner with me is not normal unless we are in a back room, chef’s table, or in a different city,” Harrison says quietly. “It’s a pain in the ass to do normal things with me in Dallas and I’m afraid—”

I silence him by putting my fingertips over his lips. “No more of that. I will not be scared off by Seekers or Puck Bunnies or even Flynnbabes.”

“Okay. But if it gets to be too much, please tell me the truth. I want you to be honest with me, so I can help you get used to dealing with it.”

I nod. “I promise I will.”

“Okay,” Harrison exhales, and I realize he had been holding his breath.

I smile at him. “So are we good here?”

Harrison smiles back at me. “We’re good.”

My heart flutters inside my chest. Tonight is
huge
. Not only is this our first venture into a restaurant, but my Prince Harry is meeting my
family
.

Another big step toward our future
, I think, texting my mom that we will meet them in Southlake tonight. I know they’ll love him. When they see how Harrison treats me, they will fall in love with him just as fast as I did.

I know Brandon is very skeptical, but I also know he’ll want what’s best for me. He’ll see that is Harrison after tonight.

Then I picture what it will be like, with fans approaching the table to speak to Harrison. That will be strange, but I’m sure it won’t be as bad as I picture it being. Especially now that people know he has a girlfriend. I’m sure that will cut down on a lot of the Flynnbabes trying to get his attention.

With that thought in my head, I get up, put my phone away, and go back to chipping tiles. Harrison does the same.

And despite all of the obstacles I face tonight, I find myself looking forward to introducing my amazing Ginger Boy to my family.

“Are you ready for this?” Harrison asks as he eases his Ranger Rover into a parking spot.

I nod. We are at Southlake Town Square, a gorgeous outdoor shopping center with a gazebo, fountain, shops, and restaurants. People are out walking around, headed for restaurants for dinner on this Sunday evening.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t convince my mom to let us order in at my parents’ house,” I say quietly. I absently play with the starfish charm on my bracelet.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about
you
,” Harrison says, his hand skimming over my hair, down to the side chignon I have twisted my locks into.

“I promise you I’m good,” I say, wanting to reassure him.

Harrison nods but doesn’t seem completely convinced. He turns his attention straight ahead at the storefronts. “I guess we should head over there.”

“Are you going to wear a baseball hat?” I ask. Harrison always wears one to cover his famous ginger locks in public. I learned that is one of his fly under the radar tactics.

He gazes at me. “No. I mean, normally, yes, I would. But I don’t want to meet your parents wearing a baseball hat. First impressions are important.”

Can you make me love you anymore?
I think, staring at him.

“But really, you’re the one who should be incognito tonight, Kylie Reed. You look so gorgeous that guys will be vying to simply look at you. I’m just damn lucky that Prince Harry is an ocean away. Otherwise I might not have a chance.”

My heart skips a beat from his compliment. I’m about to tell him Prince Harry has nothing on
my
Prince Harry, but Harrison continues before I can say anything.

“This dress,” Harrison says softly, rubbing his hand very slowly over my thigh, “is wicked hot.”

I feel my pulse jump from his deliberate touch. I’m wearing a turquoise blue halter maxi dress, one that ties around my neck and falls to the tops of my jeweled sandals. I accessorized with a charm bracelet with items of the sea on it—starfish, shells, etc.—and vintage yellow bangle bracelet with two fish kissing at the top of it.

“I’m glad you’re good with it,” I say smartly.

“More than good,” Harrison says, his hand still on my leg. “But right now I need to focus on dinner instead of you. And I have no idea how the hell I’m going to do that right now.”

I laugh and he raises an eyebrow at me. Then I take a deep breath and exit the car. Harrison immediately walks around to me and takes my hand in his.

We stroll down the sidewalk, and within seconds, I realize he’s getting looks. People hesitating, looking at Harrison with brows creased, as if “Could he be
Harrison Flynn
?” Others just stare, gob-smacked that the great hockey god is right in front of them, in the flesh.

I swallow hard.
Harrison lives like this every day
, I think with amazement. I glance up at him, and he acts like he’s oblivious to the staring. Or maybe he’s gotten so used to people gawking at him he actually is oblivious to it.

“
Oh my God!
” I hear a teenage girl cry.

I turn and see three girls, all about the age of sixteen, staring at Harrison.

“Ohmigod! Mr. Flynn, I’m like the biggest Dallas Demon fan
ever
,” the girl says, her words flying out in a nervous rush. “Is there any way I could take a picture with you?”

“Sure,” Harrison says easily, smiling at the girl. But I notice he’s not flashing the full smile. My heart skips. Again, I know that smile—the full, flashing his teeth smile—is mine and mine alone.

The girl quickly runs her fingers through her long, dark hair and walks over to his side. Harrison lightly puts his hand on her back and one of her friends fumbles with her phone to take the picture.

I notice the poor girl’s hand is shaking as she is holding the phone up. “Would you like me to take it?” I offer. “Then I can get one with all of you in it.”

“Oh my God, thank you!” she cries, handing me the phone.

I smile and take one of Harrison and the dark-haired girl. “On the count of three,” I say. “One, two, three!”

And I snap the picture.

Harrison smiles down at the girl. “Wanna check it? Let’s make sure you have a good one.”

My heart fills with warmth. Harrison is so generous with his fans. He actually wants to make sure they have the picture just right before walking away.

Okay, you’ve done it
, I think.
I love you more than I did a minute ago.

I walk over and show the girl the picture.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” she squeaks.

“Let’s do one with everyone now,” I say.

All the girls get around Harrison and their expressions of joy are contagious. I feel myself smiling as I take the picture. I show it to all of them, they thank both of us profusely, and I hear them shriek with excitement as they walk away.

“Sorry,” Harrison says, taking my hand in his once again.

“Why? That was awesome,” I say honestly.

“You think so?”

“Yes. They will remember this
forever
.”

Harrison nods. “That’s why I try to be accessible. It’s one moment in time for me, but it’s a
lifetime
moment for those girls. I try to be mindful of that at all times.”