Page 101 of Hard Hat Hottie

HARRISON

ONE YEAR LATER

What is that noise?

Dropping my bag on the sofa in the den, I make my way over to the sliding glass doors. As I pull them open and step onto the deck, the noise gets louder. A broad grin crosses my face as the reason comes into view.

Harlow, Shay, and Sadie are all dancing on the beach as Lil Nas X belts out through their Bluetooth speaker about how these days are too lonely, and he wants someone to love.Apparently, they agree.I chuckle. Turning, I head for my fridge, hoping I can get a cold one while I watch the rest of the show.

The refrigerator is stocked with amber bottles of ale, fresh fruit, yogurt, cheeses, cold cuts, olives, and juice boxes. Life is quite different than it was this time last year. And to think Harlow thought I rented this place with a bunch of other guys. As I suspected, she assumed I worked for the construction company. Our connection had burned so fast and furious that neither of us even knew the other’s last name until after we reconnected. Even considering for a moment she’d be likeStephanie was a joke. Harlow doesn’t have a greedy, entitled bone in her body.

Knowing that I owned the company allowed Harlow to have a better understanding of the stress I was under while Mom was alive. Not that it was any excuse. Many of our issues could’ve been addressed simply by talking to her. Braxton was right. Communication was the key. I’m just glad it didn’t take Harlow and me years to figure it out.

Returning to the deck, I take a seat in the teakwood chaise in the corner out of sight as the three of them sing along with Shania Twain. Well, singing might be a stretch. Squealing along to the lyrics, waving their fingers in the air as if lecturing their invisible mates that any man of theirs better walk the line. I snort.

They ain’t kidding.

But I think that’s one of Harlow’s most attractive qualities. She’s strong, independent, and loves with her whole heart. But you best do the same if you’re going to be lucky enough to be in a relationship with her. And that I am.

Damn lucky.

As caught up in each other as we’ve been from day one, we’ve managed to force ourselves to slow down. Granted, being pulled hours away to job sites along Florida’s coasts has helped. But we’ve really tried to get to know one another.

While Harlow was welcome to bring the boys over and enjoy my beachfront home whenever she wanted, she refused to accept a key until we hit the six-month mark in our relationship. She and the boys still live in their little house near her mother, but Justin and Alec have taken over two of the guest rooms on the second floor and spend time here on weekends when I’m home. They could move here full time if it were up to me, but Harlow insisted she wanted to keep their place until we hit our one-year anniversary.

Which is this weekend.

The boys are with their dads at the moment. Harlow hadn’t been wrong when she said they were like two big man children. I’ve tried to stay back and let Harlow handle them. Because as much as I think of those boys as mine, Jimmy and Rob are their dads.

They’ve come a long way since I met them. Jimmy turns his phone off when he’s with Justin, and Rob steps up to take the boys when Harlow is working or wants a night out with the girls. He even had the two of them at his place without Jimmy one night. Because he blew my phone up with texts all night. Some messages asked things likeHow late is too late to feed them?As if he hadn’t been taking care of them for years. Although, I’m afraid to consider how late these boys were fed in the past. Other messages were directed at future social activities with the boys. I’ve never feared for Justin and Alec’s safety following his inquiries for advice. It merely felt as if he needed reassurance that he could do this on his own.

More and more, I started to think Rob was just lonely. Hell, I’ve been there.I should know.Yet if interacting with him when he was insecure about things kept Rob from interrupting Harlow on her rare night out with the girls, I’m fine with it. He’s not a bad guy. He simply needs a little push. When the constantbzzzof my cell signals another message from Rob, I try to rationalize reaching out to the boss is simply one of the perks of working for Hightower Construction.

Rob Pierce is now our jack of all trades guy. He’s currently assigned with Gus and the crew, doing any manual labor they assign to him. Turns out, he takes direction well and works hard. Over the last year, I feel I’ve gotten to know him better. His father had run out on his mother when he was young, and apparently his mother did what she could to get by. Probablywhere he learned that helping yourself to things in restaurants was okay.

Hot mess or not, he’s proven to be a work in progress worthy of dedicating the time and effort. Had he been blessed with a mother like mine, who knows what he could’ve accomplished. And as long as he keeps showing up to work, I’m happy to have him on the payroll.

The song below changes to one by Lewis Capaldi and the three of them start shrieking like cats with their tales stuck under something large. Despite their drunken performance, I’m able to listen to the lyrics and it gives me pause. This beautiful girl should never have to sing a song asking her love to hold her while she waits for them to decide if they’ll stay. The tune is set to an upbeat tempo, but the words cut through me as he says he wishes he was good enough, wishes they cared a little more.

As the girls dance around, hopefully impervious to the lines he sings, I reach down and tap the little square box in my pocket. More to prevent that cavernous throbbing from ever returning to my chest again. Because none of those girls deserve to wait on any man, Harlow most of all.

That she’s still here after the way I treated her is a miracle. Then again, so is the fact I met her at all. She embodies the very things I loved most about my mother. Her determination, her self-respect, and the endless devotion to her two boys. Boys who could’ve easily turned out as carbon copies of her ex-husbands had she not tirelessly shown them they were worthy of more.

The music stops and the girls all come together, hugging one another, appearing fatigued by their festivities in the summer sun. I’ll have to see just how tipsy Harlow is, or this little box might have to stay tucked away until tomorrow.

Unable to keep away from her a moment longer, I put down my beer and push off from the chaise to make my way down to the beach.

And to my mermaid.

“God, Harlow. You sure have one hard hat hottie on your hands,” Shay says playfully.

“Hi, Harry.” Sadie waves as I come closer.

“Girls,” I greet, my eyes never leaving Harlow’s. Reaching behind her neck, I cover her mouth with mine and kiss her hungrily. I can’t even be bothered to worry about the two hens beside me with their mouths hanging open. As the kiss ends, I whisper over her lips. “I thought you’d taste like fruity cocktails. Watching you three, I was certain you were drunk.”

“They might be.” She points to her friends. “I’m only intoxicated on life.” Her soft lips curl into a smile, the warmth radiating from her outdoing that big yellow orb in the sky.

“I guess that’s our cue to go.”

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