“I hope you’re ready for this,” he said. He sure wasn’t. He opened the door, heard voices streaming from the kitchen and wound an arm around Harlow’s waist, just in case she considered bolting. The way she fit him...
“I don’t have to be ready. I’m not going along with it.” She contradicted her words by snuggling against him, as if starved for contact, and damn it, need for her burned away his anger.
He had to have her. Soon. This was the way.
The dogs were asleep in the living room, though Sparkles—Brook Lynn’s shadow—woke up at the thump of his boots on the wood floors and lifted his head, his ears twitching. He gave Beck the evil eye.
“Keep moving,” he told Harlow. The mutt from hell might decide it was time for dinner. Or time to pee on his shoes again.
Conversations ceased as their grand entrance was noticed.
“Hi, Harlow,” Daphne said. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Thank you,” Harlow said, trembling against him. “You, too.”
“Uncle Beck! Guess what?” Hope, Jase’s nine-year-old daughter, bounced in her seat, her pigtails swinging back and forth. “We played Monopoly, and I won.”
“Only because you’re a tyrant,” West said with affection. His features darkened as he focused on Jessie Kay. “And you’re a sore loser.”
“Because I refused to stay at your hotel and risk a flea infestation?”
“I stayed at yours even though there’s no telling what I’ll come down with.”
Jessie Kay hissed at him.
“And that’s our cue to leave. Go get your dog, Hope.” Daphne placed an empty glass in the sink, saying to Harlow, “Steve, the hellion—I mean, the prince—used to live with Jase, but Hope can’t stand to be parted from him, even though he hates me.”
“All dogs hate you,” Beck reminded her.
“This is true.”
“But, Mah-mah.” Hope stomped her foot. “Uncle Beck just got here, and he brought a friend, so—”
“Steve,” Daphne insisted. “Now.”
“Fine.” Hope pushed to her feet. “But I’m adding this to my growing list of your grievances.”
Jase clasped the little girl’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Don’t forget you promised to spend the day with Brook Lynn and me tomorrow.”
“Only babies forget, and I’m not a baby,” she groused.
“But you are tired, hence the reason you’re more prickly than a porcupine,” Brook Lynn said.
“That’s not an insult,” Hope proclaimed as Daphne escorted her from the kitchen. “Porcupines are cute.”
Jessie Kay stood. “Well. That’s my cue to leave, too.” She leaned down to kiss Brook Lynn on the cheek. “See you later, sis. Jase, give it to her good tonight.” She scowled at West, then quickly averted her gaze. When she walked by Beck, she patted his cheek.
West faked a yawn. “Well. I’ve scheduled an early bedtime tonight and—”
“Stay,” Beck said before looking at Jase and motioning to the exit with a tilt of his chin.
Jase took the hint and helped Brook Lynn to her feet. “All right, time to pay your rent, angel. I haven’t forgotten how many times I let you spend the night in my hotels.”
“Let me? You charged me double!”
“Yes, but all the money bought you was time. You still have to pay interest.”
Brook Lynn chuckled huskily and waved before following Jase out of the kitchen, calling, “Night, guys.”
“Night,” everyone returned.
Finally. West, Harlow and Beck were alone.
Beck leaned down to whisper into Harlow’s ear, “Go ahead. Show him your best.” He gave her a little push toward the table.
“Someone clue me in,” West said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m leaving, that’s what,” Harlow said. Determined words, snotty tone. She attempted to wrench herself from Beck’s grip.
“Oh, no.” Beck merely tightened his hold. “We’re going to have a glass of sweet tea while you two crazy kids get to know each other better.”
Harlow anchored her hands on her hips. “You know what? You’re right. We are going to get to know each other. But your presence is unnecessary, Beck. Leave.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“We don’t need—”
He cut her off, whispering, “If you and West get married and live happily ever after, you’ll have to get used to having me around.”
She snapped her mouth shut, then lifted her chin and grumbled, “That’s a very sad point.” She flashed a too-bright smile at West and eased into the chair Jase had vacated. “I’m game if you are.”
Beck vibrated with irritation as he carried a pitcher of tea and three glasses to the table and settled between the pair. “My girl here has certain ideas about the kind of man she wants to end up with,” he explained, “and I’d like to know if the two of you are compatible.”
Understanding dawned on West’s features, a smile nearly breaking free. He cleared his throat and donned his most uncaring expression. “Sure. Whatever.”
Beck poured the tea, handed out the glasses, and Harlow clutched hers as if it were a lifeline.
“Kick us off, sweet pea,” he said. “Tell my good buddy Lincoln—that’s his first name, in case you didn’t know—a little about yourself.”