Page 2 of Perfect for Her

“You know you’re great for my ego,” Harlow says as she stands in nothing but a towel, leaning against the doorframe.

I smirk, winking as I sit up against the headboard.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” she asks, her eyes curious.

I want to tell her the truth, I want to tell her that I want more than this week, that the idea of her leaving is hitting me harder than I thought it would. But I don’t. Instead, I just take her in, her tanned skin and jet-black hair as it falls loose against her shoulders.

“Mark?” she repeats, her feet slowly bringing her closer until she’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What would you do if you didn’t model?” It’s a question that’s been rattling around in my brain the last few days because as much as I love the fact that she’s following her dream, there are moments when I can see the stress it puts on her shoulders.

Harlow smiles, resting her hand on mine as she leans over and kisses my lips softly. “Run a day care.”

My eyes widen, the answer catching me off guard. “Seriously?”

She nods, a shy smile playing at the edges of her lips.

“I’ll be honest, that’s not what I expected.”

She laughs, the sound washing over me. “I’ve always loved kids, and before I got scouted, I always wanted to run a day care out of my house. Something small, but fulfilling, you know?”

I nod, falling for her more and more after every passing second. Her eyes flick to the clock on the wall and her shoulders fall, and I know what that means.

“You’re sure you want to stick to our original deal?” I ask, her head tilting as if contemplating that herself. “No phone numbers, no addresses… nothing?” I want to beg her to take something, anything, so she can get in touch with me someday, but I know it’s futile. She’ll be off gallivanting around the world while I’m stuck in Harbour Cove doing the same things I’ve always done.

“It has to be this way, Mark. You know that.”

I nod because she’s right.

“Well, if you’re ever in Harbour Cove, look me up,” I mutter before getting out of bed and making my way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

I don’t want to leave on this note, I don’t want the anger I feel to mar the last few hours we have with each other but I know no matter what I do, I’ll still have to say goodbye to her, knowing I’ll probably never see her again.

I just pray the universe has other plans for us.

Harlow

FOUR YEARS LATER

I will find you.

That’s all the email says as I stare at the screen for a few minutes, contemplating how I got myself into this situation when I did everything possible to avoid this happening again. I take another look at the email address, trying to put together if I know it, but I come up blank. I quickly forward the email off to my lawyer, explaining to him once more that this needs to be resolved as I sigh, resting my head in my hands and shaking my head, wondering what else I can do to make this stop.

When the emails started, I hired a bodyguard, two actually. But they just kept coming, getting more and more intense as the years went on, graduating to handwritten notes followed by pictures and very descriptive short stories that gave me nightmares for weeks. But it wasn’t until one mentioned Ethan that everything changed. When he was born, I told myself I would do everything possible to make sure the dark side of my profession never touched him, and that meant giving up my dream and starting over in the one place I knew no one would think to look for me.

I’ve spent the last four years repeating the words Harbour Cove in my mind, thinking of the one man that changed my life and left a human-sized hole in my heart. I still have no idea if moving here was a good idea, but I had to do what was best for my son, and that meant taking him away from the spotlight, the danger, and into the safety of this small town and hopefully the arms of his father.

“Mommy!” Ethan calls from downstairs, panic in his voice and my heart jumps into my throat, wondering if the note was right.

He found us. But as my feet hit the bottom step and see the cereal box tipped over the counter, the contents piled in a mound on the floor, I breathe deep, my hand clenching at my heart, wondering if this is the moment I actually collapse from all the mounting pressure on my shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to Mommy, it just feld over.”

I smile, that little speech impediment causing a flutter in my heart because it’s the only aspect of my little boy that’s left, and I’m trying to bask in it.

“That’s okay, sweetie. Why don’t you go into the closet and find the broom so we can clean it up, okay?”

He nods his little head, that dark hair a mess as he runs out of the room. Every day he looks more and more like Mark, those light eyes causing memories to flood my brain every time I look into them.

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