The Hotter You Burn (25 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

H
ARLOW
 
EMERGED
 
FROM
 
the room, spotted Dottie leaning against the wall, fanning her flushed cheeks, and blushed. There wasn't time to issue a warning—
cover your eyes...or not, yeah, probably not
—before Beck came up behind Harlow wearing only a towel. He pushed something into her pocket.

“Your phone,” he said, and nipped her earlobe. “As my girlfriend, it's your duty—no, your honor—to send me hourly—half-hourly—reports about your day. I'll be waiting. And yes, I just labeled you.”

Tingles pricked the back of her neck. “It's only a label if I accept it. And are you sure you want to know about the joys of scrubbing toilets?”

“More than anything. I'll prepare to be riveted.”

Pulling away from him might have been the toughest thing she'd ever done, but she managed it.

“I want one of those,” Dottie said as Harlow closed the door, ensuring Beck wouldn't overhear the rest. “I moved to the city for a few years and got married, but we divorced after only six months. If there's a trick to keeping a guy like that, you have to tell me.”

“There's no trick.” She hooked her arm through Dottie's and led her down the hall. “If being yourself isn't enough, the guy isn't worth your time.” As Dottie's shoulders slumped with disappointment, Harlow said, “You're amazing. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. Now. Do you have a particular guy in mind?”

A blush stained Dottie's cheeks.

“You do! Who is it?”

The girl pressed her lips together in a firm line.

“You can trust me, you know,” Harlow said. “I'm not going to use the information against you. I've learned my lesson about treating people that way, and I would honestly rather die as some zombie's dinner.”

Dottie took a deep breath before admitting softly, “Daniel Porter.”

“He's a good choice, though I happen to know he's a bit commitment-shy. But who knows? You could be the girl to win him over, and he
is
currently single.” Jessie Kay had moved on, Brook Lynn said.

“He's also here,” Dottie whispered with a dreamy sigh. “He came in about half an hour ago to rent a room...and requested your service.”

“Why don't you do the cleaning?”

“I would, but he paid extra for you,” the girl grumbled.

No way she'd go in there alone, leaving Dottie to fear the worst. “Well, I'll definitely need your help.”

Dottie licked her lips, nodded reluctantly. They found a cleaning cart and pushed it to room twenty-five. A tremor rocked the girl as Harlow reached up and knocked.

“Remember, just be yourself,” Harlow whispered. “You are a treasure, and you deserve to be treated that way.”

Daniel pulled open the door a few seconds later, looking gorgeous in a black shirt and a faded pair of jeans. Dog tags hung at his neck, a tattoo peeked from the sleeve of his shirt, and his feet were bare. He was totally bad-boy hot, and Dottie certainly noticed, her tremors intensifying.

“We're here to clean your already-clean room,” Harlow said with sass, and he moved back, allowing them to step inside.

He hadn't brought a bag, and he hadn't hung a single piece of clothing in the closet or disrupted the sheets or even used one of the towels in the bathroom.

“Wh-where would you like us to start, Mr. Porter?” Dottie's voice was low and sweet and layered with nerves.

“I'd like to speak with Harlow, if you don't mind. In private.”

“Of course.” Dottie hung her head and padded toward the door, but Harlow grabbed hold of her wrist and held her in place.

She'd just garnered the slightest bit of Dottie's trust. Being alone with Daniel would jeopardize such a fragile bond.

“Whatever you say to me,” she said, “I'll just repeat to my partner, so save me the trouble and talk while we work.”

Daniel sat at the desk while Harlow messed up his perfectly made bed in order to remake it. She claimed one side and Dottie, who wouldn't pull her gaze from the sheets, claimed the other.

“Last chance to hear what I've got to say without an audience,” Daniel said.

“Talk,” Harlow replied.

He gave a clipped nod. “Since Jessie Kay was hanging around the new guys so much, I had a few contacts look into them. Jase went to prison for manslaughter, West did a few stints in rehab and Beck has a juvenile record. He fought. A lot.”

I know. He told me
. “Almost everyone in town knows about Jase. He served his time, and he's a good guy. As for West and Beck...” Harlow walked to Daniel's chair, placed her hands on the arms and leaned into his face.

“If you're about to kiss me in thanks,” he said, “don't. I like you as a friend. That's why I'm here.”

Warm pleasure spread through her.
Look at me. I bagged another friend
.
At this rate, I'll have the town in the palm of my hand by Christmas.
“One, I'm into Beck. Two, Beck would never hurt me. If you start spreading rumors to the contrary, I might have to serve a little time in prison myself—for premeditated murder. I wouldn't like hurting you. We're friends, you just said so, but I'd do it nonetheless.”

Daniel studied her for a long while before nodding his understanding.

“Thank you.” She hugged him—she just couldn't help herself—before turning to Dottie, who was wide-eyed with surprise. “Finish up here, will you?”

“Y-yes.”

In the hall, she texted Beck, the need to reach out to him—to torment him—too strong to deny.

What R U wearing??

His reply came a few seconds later.

Now that I'm talking 2 U? A smile.

Wish U were wearing ME??

Only more than anything ever.

GOOD! U can wish but U can't touch. Bet U'll B the 1st 2 cave.

Really?? Good luck resisting THIS.

A picture accompanied the text, and a blush crept over her cheeks. He'd actually sent her a picture of his bare butt. Except another picture came in a few seconds later, only it was panned farther out, revealing the “crack” she'd previously seen was actually the line between his pressed-together knees.

His next text read,
Dirty minded girl.

Grinning, she skipped to the next room. As she cleaned, she mentally checked out, operating on autopilot—dust, scrub, vacuum, make bed. Rinse/repeat with the next set of rooms. The only time she came alive was her break, when she texted Beck.

Her: This toilet is so big...so hard...

Beck: Yeah, baby. Yeah. Tell me more.

Her: It's so wet.

Beck: Now UR just being cruel. What's it wearing? Describe in minute detail.

She laughed. This man...oh, this man.

When she knocked on the door of her final room, she realized she'd worked twelve hours straight. A first for her, and it felt good. Look how far she'd come. From impoverished and down on her luck to making a living without help from anyone. She now had two jobs, one an outlet for her art, her greatest passion. Well, maybe not her greatest. Not any longer. She had Beck...for the moment, at least.

The temporariness of their arrangement was the only wrench in a seemingly glorious future.

Tawny Ferguson opened up and glared all kinds of hatred at her. Scott Cameron—her cousin—stood behind her, grinning a big bad wolf grin.

You've got to be kidding me.
“I just came to tell you I'm done for the day. Your room will have to wait.”

“Ha! You're done when we say you're done.” Tawny eyed her up and down and sneered. “When Scott called and told me you were here, well, I rushed right over and managed to snag the last room. I expect to get my money's worth.”

Or, you know, revenge
. “You expect to punish me for dating Beck.” There was no way Harlow would allow these two to critique and complain about everything she did.

“He's not yours, bitch.” Tawny drew back her hand. To slap Harlow across the face?

Scott caught his cousin by the elbow, stopping her.

“Let Harlow make the first move. Carol will be forced to fire her.”

“Bitch,” the blonde snapped again. “Beck will get tired of you soon enough.”

“Maybe, but we both know he's already tired of you.” Harlow retreated a step, intending to go.

Scott released his cousin to grab Harlow's wrist, keeping her in place.

“Let me go,” Harlow demanded. “Now.”

“Let her go, or die.” Beck's voice growled from down the hall.

Gasping, she spun. He strode toward her with Dottie at his side. Worry clouded the girl's face. Rage darkened Beck's. Scott let her go as if she'd just caught fire.

“Beck,” Tawny said, fluffing her hair. “It's wonderful to see you.”

“I cleaned this room earlier,” Dottie said.

“Yeah, but my cousin paid for—” Scott began.

“The works? I just reimbursed her.” Beck threw a wad of cash at the twosome before claiming Harlow's hand and focusing on Scott. “My girlfriend's shift is officially over. I suggest you leave. If you're still here in the morning, I'll take that to mean you'd love to continue our previous chat.” Tawny he simply ignored, and the girl withered before Harlow's gaze.

Almost feel sorry for her.

Almost.

As Beck tugged Harlow away, taking her the way he'd just come, she sought Dottie with her gaze. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

The girl offered a hesitant but genuine smile.

“You okay?” Beck asked.

“I'm fine, really, but thanks for the white-knight rescue.”

“Just one of the many services I offer in my boyfriend package.” He released a heavy breath. “Scott is lucky I've learned the value of restraint.”

“Yeah,” she said. “
So
lucky.”

He stopped and faced her, his lips quirking at the corners. “You mocking me, baby?”

“Me? Never.” The old-fashioned ambience of the place framed him—lace doilies surrounded each of the strawberry photos, everything surrounded by pink-and-yellow-striped wallpaper. He was a male made even more masculine around beautiful, feminine things, his strength all the more evident, and keeping her hands off him required major effort. “You're worked into a foaming-at-the-mouth man-frenzy, and I love it.”

“I bet you'll love this, too.” He backed her into the wall. Only a whisper away, she breathed his breath as he breathed hers, the knowledge causing her to inhale and exhale harder and faster, her heart drumming frantically.

“I'm waiting,” she said, arching her hips to rub against him. “Make your move so I can turn you down.”

His nostrils flared. “You're already on the verge of begging for more.”

“So are you.”

“I am. So, if you want to go on that date, we have to leave now. Otherwise I'm going to carry you to our room.”

Her knees almost buckled. “I... I want to go on our date,” she forced herself to say. No matter the aches in her body, dating him was important to her.

A moment passed before he gave a stiff nod. “Very well.” He backed away from her, extended his hand. “Where have you been staying? We'll grab your things.”

Oh...crap. A flare of panic hit her as she twined their fingers. “That's not important right now.”

Immediate suspicion crossed his features. “Where?” he insisted.

She didn't want to answer and wouldn't lie. Besides, the stubborn man wouldn't quit until he knew the truth. “First on Dane Michaelson's land, then behind the church,” she admitted on a sigh. “In a tent.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Brook Lynn hinted as much. I didn't want to believe her.”

His eyes closed, his face suddenly ravaged with pain. “I never should have kicked you out and forced you back into a tent. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive myself.”

She touched his face, making him look at her. “We both made mistakes.”

“You merely reacted to mine, but I vow to you here and now, you'll never have to spend another night in a tent ever again. I've set up a trust for you.”

“A trust? Are you kidding me?”

“No. And you're going to take the money and like it.”

“I most certainly will.”

He waited for her to finish the sentence, to add “not.” But she didn't, and he realized she had, in fact, accepted. “Okay, then. Glad we got that settled.”

“If you want to spend your money on me, I'll let you,” she said. Pride wasn't going to stand in the way of her future any longer.

He laughed and muttered, “I will never understand you, will I?” then kicked into motion, dragging her with him. “You're staying with me if I have to tie you down.”

“Kinky, but there's no way I'm letting you do that.”

“I look forward to your attempts to stop me.”

Harlow knew her hard limits and knew if she and Beck wrestled, she'd be the one to cave. “Fine. I'll stay in your hotel room.”

“With me.”

“Alone.”

Brow arched, he cast her a glance. “Are you not confident in your ability to resist me?”

No! Even now she burned for him. To distract them both, she said, “If we go on a date tonight—”

“If?”

“We have to actually go out,” she continued. “To dinner, at the very least. And you have to pay for everything.”

“Pay for everything? Baby, I only ever go Dutch.”

Hardly. “Everything,” she insisted.

“Fine. I'll pay for everything. Do you see how accommodating I can be?” He released a heavy sigh. “If only you were as easygoing as I am, willing to compromise about the room.”

She swallowed a grin. “Very well. You can stay in the room with me, but you'll have to sleep on the floor.”