Page 6 of Wicked Wishes
Funny—being asked out for pizza to meet his daughter very much feels like a date. I will take it what I can get with him—and with his daughter. Nodding, I raise my hands slowly, cautiously. When I place my palms on his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his thin t-shirt, we both sigh. Yeah, tonight isnota date. For sure it is not; I can see by the look in his eyes that’s a lie, but I don’t care.
Harley can lie to himself if it makes it easier for him.
“Meet you at Slice and Sauce at seven?” I tip my head back to ask.
“We will be there,” he replies with a nod.
His eyes drop to focus on my mouth, and I feel my lips tingle. I have wanted to kiss him for months. I often wonder if his lips taste as good as they look. I figure they must. I wet my lips, wondering if he thinks the same things. If he thinks I might taste sweet like the treats I always bring him. I think he must taste sinfully sweet but spicy, too.
“Behave for me,” he growls as his hands finally rest at my hips and he drags me against him, “because I can’t promise to keep on being good.”
“Did I ever ask you to be good?” I shoot back, watching his eyes smolder with want.
“No, sweets,” he wets his bottom lip after he speaks and I watch the drag of his tongue before his teeth sink into the soft flesh, “no I guess you never did ask me to be that did you?”
His eyes storm as he stares at me, chest pumping as he breathes fast. I back away from him, afraid of scaring him more than I already did. He grunts as if he does not approve. Reaching out, his hands grab me again and he pulls me against him, slamming me against his body. I whimper and he makes a pained sound, lowering his head.
“I don’t want tobe good,” he whispers against my cheek, “not with you. Not like this. I don’t mean some of the shit I say to you. Some of the things I do. I know I have not been fair to either of us, but I am doing my best.”
“I know, sugar,” I whisper, reaching my hands up to cup his face as I close my eyes.
We stand there in this half embrace before he kisses my forehead and pushes away. Confirming with just a look that I will meet them at the pizza place, he goes. When he leaves, I know he is not gone. I feel him circle the house at least twice. I caught him doing it last weekend when I came home late and didn’t lock my door. I leave it unlocked for a purpose. For him.
After he comes and locks it, growling at me the next day to stop being forgetful, he lingers. He wanders between our houses, and I have seen his shadow at my bedroom window. I havefelthim press close against it and heard him breathe heavy as I lie in bed and think of him.
I imagine him coming through the door I leave unlocked, walk down the hall, and come to my bedroom. His body is bare in the darkness before he pulls back my sheets and climbs in beside me. We don’t speak because we don’t need to. His skin is on mine and then he is inside me, our eyes locked as our bodies become one. I touch myself picturing how it will be. He is sometimes right out my window, watching me without seeing that I want him so badly, I take matters into my own hands.
Harley is a big, brute of a man but he is also just a man—and he fears what he feels for someone he did not promise his life to. For someone other than the mother of his child. He gave a vow and feeling something for me outside of those vows is terrifying for him.
Fear I can handle—being scared is my favorite pastime.
Chapter Five
Harley
Lying to myself is one thing—lying to Hanna is something I can’t do.
I can tell myself I don’t want her all day and night. I know it is a lie. Hell, she knows I want her. I am not particularly good at hiding it. Not that I am as forward about it as she always is. Not that I don’t envy that. Hanna feels everything big, bright, and bold and I think once I used to feel that way too.
We started out with a lie, though. I never told her about my daughter because…I didn’t want to change things. Didn’t want her to stop flirting with me. I like it and how it feels when she puts her pretty eyes on me. I like when she gets in my space and fills it up with her sweet light. But I pull away just when I start to feel warmed by her light, because I was lying to her. And I kept right on lying until I saw her babysitting.
After I set up the security system at their place, I lingered to watch her with baby Koda. And then, back at my place, I kept watching her. I used the monitors I set up for Keegan for my own twisted torture. I watched her all night, laughing and playing with the baby. When she put him to bed then curled up with popcorn and a movie, it almost felt as if we were watching the movie together. As if we were spending the night together the way we both want so badly.
Every single day since, I have wanted to tell her about Hope. My wife was sick when we found out she was pregnant. We talked about the impossible, but there is no way my wife could make that choice and I would not make it for her. It was a hard pregnancy, but she got to spend almost a full year with our little angel. I think us getting the good life for a little while sent her off with a sense of peace.
“You are a good father,”my father-in-law Chester said just last night when he brought Hope home from her summer with them,“and you loved our daughter deep and true. You would not be letting her go…if you let go, son. You loved Helen right up to the end and she would want you to find joy and love again.”
“I miss her,”I gave my normal answer as I watched my daughter laughing with my mother-in-law.
But it was not the whole truth. I miss Helen all the time, of course. Especially when I am laughing with my daughter, and she smiles at me just like her mama used to. Or when I wonder if I am fucking up at raising her. And late at night, I miss holding her in bed and smelling her lavender scented skin. But lately, I don’t miss her the same—more like missing a memory of something.
Now I find I miss Hanna whenever she is not at my place with a plate of sweets or asking me to come over and fix a broken window or tune up her flashy mustang. All this time we have grown closer while I keep drawing lines in the dirt, I won’t let her cross while I kept a secret from her.
Today I come clean—at least about how badly I want her to know my daughter.
Last night I went to her place and let myself in. It is depraved, what I feel for her, and I can’t control it. I wanted to go right to her bedroom and get in bed with her. Hold her little body close and tell her everything. About Hope, about how she misses a mother she never knew, and how I could never replace Helen, I think Hanna could be good for my little monster.
“Pizza? Yes!” Hope shrieks when I tell her our plans for tonight.
