“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.”