“This is a wild story. So you’ve never met your family at all?” He sits up, wholly intrigued, making me laugh out loud.
I’ve known the story my whole life, but from the outside looking in, it is pretty unbelievable.
“Nope, not beside my aunt. Though…” I think back to one memory I’ve never forgotten. “Maybe we ran into my grandfather and uncles once when I was younger. I can’t remember the exact details, but I do remember thinking the one guy looked just like my dad. He shuffled us out of there so quickly, I never thought to ask him about it.”
“So your dad gave it all up for your mom,” he says more to himself. “What a great story to remember him by.”
I can feel the tears again, so I change the subject. “So, how about your parents? I know you’re not close, but are they in love?”
In a dark, sardonic way, he sniggers. “Definity not.”
Oh.“That’s sad.”
“It’s more surprising, only because my dad grew up in a house similar to you. My grandparents loved each other unconditionally.”
Grinning, I say, “Well, that’s a better story.”
“My grandfather was quite the romantic, too. It’s where my company name came from—Abbott. It was founded in the twenties by my great-great-grandfather. When my grandfather took over, he renamed it to my grandmother’s maiden name.”
“That’s sweet and very progressive of him.”
“It was.” He leans over, kisses my lips, and confirms, “So, you’ll stay tonight?”
Propping myself up on my elbows, I glance at the clock. “Yes. Mom’s probably already sleeping, but I should still call her.”
“There are a few things I need to do for work if you don’t mind. Since it’s way past dinner time, we can order food and eat in my office while I finish.”
“It’s eleven o’clock on a Sunday,” I mumble.
He smirks, “Yes. But some insatiable younger woman kept me on my toes all day, and I didn’t finish what needed to be done for an important meeting tomorrow.”
Harrison helps me out of bed, and I don’t miss how he glances down at my scars. I can tell immediately that he knows what happened.
The look in his eyes changes from wonder to sorrow, and I can’t deal with it.
He mentioned the other day he looked me up, and I know from experience that you don’t even have to type my whole name out in the search bar for all the articles to start populating.
It’s why I hate bringing up my accident.
“Not on the table for discussion,” I say with meaning. His face drops, but I know he’s dying to know more. “Not tonight, Harrison. It will ruin the rest of the evening.”
He pauses and nods. “Okay, beautiful. Whatever you want.”
10
Juliette
“Juliette.”Harrison’s strong, warm hand strokes my bare back, “Baby, it’s time to wake up,” he whispers against my skin, peppering me with soft, minty kisses.
Snuggling closer into the pillow, basking in the scent of Harrison, I ignore him, needing just a little more sleep.
He’s a machine.
It’s the only possible explanation as to how he’s already up, showered—I turn my head, peaking through one cracked eye—dressed and ready to go by the looks of it.
“It’s too early, Harrison,” I mumble into the pillow. “I’m too tired to move. What time is it?”
“Six thirty.” He lifts the blankets off me and slaps my naked behind. “I’ve been up for an hour. I already worked out and read the newspaper.”
