Free The Hotter You Burn by Gena Showalter Page B

asked me out. Do you remember?”
    â€œDo you really think I could forget?” he replied smoothly, still drawing a blank.
    She shook her head, relieved, and said, “At the time, I told you no, but I’ve regretted it ever since.”
    The words jogged his memory. That’s right. She’d played hard to get, turning him down flat, and he’d moved on to someone else. No harm, no foul.
    â€œYou two deserve each other. I hope you’re happy...temporarily.” Harlow kept her attention squarely on Beck, glaring daggers at him. “Meanwhile, I’ll be outside. I’ll give you ten minutes to get your card and whatever books you want me to follow while tending your garden, and then I’m gone. I have places to be.”
    He didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want her out of his sight, but he said, “If you want to leave, leave. I won’t stop you.” Not now, not ever.
    As he spoke, the brunette linked her arm through his, a clear attempt to stake a claim. He almost shook off her hold, but the feeling was so new, so unexpected—so different—he locked his limbs in place.
    Harlow looked from him to the girl, the girl to him, the severity he’d noticed in the later-childhood pictures soon masking her features. “Forget the books, and screw you,” she spat, turning toward the door. “Screw you both.”
    He knew. In that moment, he knew beyond any doubt. She liked him, and not as a brother. Jealousy was the only reason she would lash out this sharply.
    â€œHarlow,” he called.
    â€œWhat?” she snapped.
    â€œStay close. I’ll be coming for you.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    H ARLOW   PACED   BACK   and forth in front of the library’s front door. Old wood planks creaked and whined, a warm breeze actually cool against her damp neck. Her mind churned.
    How dumb was she? Suzie Quaid had walked into the library, and Harlow had nearly erupted into flames of jealousy. All because Beck had smiled and turned on the charm. But the great he-slut of the Southwest
always
smiled and turned on the charm. He’d even softened the hard-as-stone Ms. Cavanaugh.
    Why should Harlow care that he’d stayed true to form and paid attention to the girl once voted Most Likely to Become a Professional Jell-O Wrestler?
    Beck might be gorgeous, and nice, and gorgeous, and charismatic, and gorgeous, but he still wasn’t the man for Harlow. He would never be the man for her. Even temporarily.
Especially
temporarily. Learn the bliss of being his woman, only to lose him? No, thanks.
    Her eyes remained on the prize: stability. Falling in love, creating a home and starting a family. Her desires would never align with his. Best to tend to his garden, as owed, and then move on.
    Right on time, he sailed out of the library and smiled his most devastating smile. He handed her the books he’d checked out.
    â€œCatch you later, honey.” He ambled away, whistling a happy tune. Sounded like “Baby Got Back.”
    Seriously? That was it? He was just going to leave her here?
    Had he made a lunch arrangement with Suzie? Or maybe dinner—followed by bedroom dancing?
    Irritation flourished, and in an effort to distract herself, Harlow hugged the books to her chest. The three hardbacks had to weigh a thousand pounds each, and her arms began to shake. As she motored forward, she did her best to remain in the shadows. Mr. Porter and Mr. Rodriguez were no longer playing checkers. Jessie Kay Dillon and her sidekick, Sunny Day, occupied the chairs, drinking whiskey from a bottle and scoring men as they walked past.
    Jessie Kay whistled. “Oh, baby. I’m giving you a ten. You look like you’re into commitment. Come give me a taste of that!”
    â€œOh, sugar, sugar,” Sunny called. “I bet you’ve got a healthy relationship with your mom. Marry me?”
    While the guys soaked up the attention, Harlow did her best to escape