Page 19

19

ARYA

My mouth falls open as Noah leaps into the pool.

The others shake their heads and laugh.

“Good idea.” Everly stands and sets down her margarita glass. “I’ll go change. Did you bring a bathing suit, Arya?”

“Yes.”

“Come on. I’ll show you where you can change too.”

I follow her, grabbing my bag where I left it near the door.

“There’s a bathroom right here.” She opens the door and flicks on the light. “I’ll go to my old bedroom to change.”

“Thanks.”

The bathroom is small but lovely, with black and white patterned ceramic tile on the floors, white subway tiles on the walls, and black cabinets. There’s a full-length mirror on the back of the door that I use to inspect myself once I have my bikini on. I turn to check out the cellulite on my ass and tug the suit down. It’s my favorite, multi-colored stripes with a halter top.

I slip on a sheer tank dress cover-up, and slide a hair tie onto my wrist so I can pull my hair up when I get into the water. Then I grab the doorknob to leave.

The knob comes off in my hand.

I stare at it. What the...

I drop my bag again and study the door and the broken knob. I try to pull on the door, but it won’t open. Shit.

Maybe I can fix it.

I try wiggling the knob back into the opening. I have no idea what I’m doing, but maybe if I can get it back into the right place, it’ll work.

No luck.

I’m not sure how long I spend doing that, but I’m getting hot and sweaty and frustrated. I lean my head against the door. I’m going to have to call for help.

Great.

“Hello!” I call. “Anyone out there?”

Silence.

I don’t know if Everly’s still in her room or if she’s gone back out.

I call again, louder. “Hello! Help! I’m stuck in here.” Then I bang on the door.

Still nothing.

My head drops forward. Fuckety fuck.

I sit on the closed toilet seat and slump over. How long am I going to be stuck here? Harrison will come looking for me eventually, won’t he? But how long will it take?

I sigh.

I eye the window at the end of the room. I’m pretty sure it’s next to the patio where everyone is. I jump up and rush over to hammer on the frosted glass.

Nothing.

I let out another expulsion of air. Shit.

I eye the window again. It’s pretty high up. Does it open? I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I try to see. I climb onto the toilet, which isn’t that close to it, bracing a hand on the wall as I lean over.

It does open.

Okay. I’m pretty strong. If I can get it open, maybe I can pull myself up and get out that way.

Oh my God. Do I really have to do this? Why hasn’t Harrison come looking for me? I plop back down onto the toilet lid again, shaking my head. After a few more minutes, though, I have to try.

I can just barely reach the lever that unlocks the window, then I slide it open. Yay!

I pause, still hoping someone will rescue me. With a sigh, I turn to the wall. I grip the windowsill and hoist myself up, using my feet on the wall. Jeezus. My arm muscles strain. I’m determined to do this, so I grit my teeth and keep working until I’m high enough to rest my boobs on the sill. I pause, panting.

Okay. I got this far. I can do it.

I wriggle myself through the window. Now I’m half hanging out, but I’m headfirst and I don’t want to take a dive into the shrubs beneath me. I peer through bushes and palm trees to see the patio. I can vaguely hear them talking over there.

I really don’t want to make a scene, but... “Help!” I wait, then call again. “Help! Over here!”

A moment later, Harrison’s face appears through the shrubbery. “Arya? What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m locked in the bathroom! Help!”

He starts to thrash through the shrubs toward me. Oh thank God! I’m going to live.

Just as he nears me, I hear the bathroom door open.

“Oh,” I hear Noah say.

I am now painfully aware that my cover-up is scrunched around my waist and my bikini bottom is firmly wedged between my ass cheeks.

Heat flames in my face and I kick my feet in frustration and embarrassment.

“Okay, I got you,” Harrison says calmly, reaching up for me. “Come on.”

“I’ve got her!” Noah calls from behind me.

I close my eyes, mortification scalding my insides. Should I go out or back in? I’d rather face Harrison, I guess, so I push myself through the window and into his arms. I scrape a shin on the windowsill, and the shrubs scratch at my arms, but I’m free. Harrison catches me and holds me, and I bury my face into his neck.

“What the hell happened?” he murmurs.

“The doorknob came off.” I can’t look at him. “I guess I broke it. I couldn’t get it back on and I couldn’t get out. I called for help.” I almost sob. “Nobody heard me.”

“I’m sorry.” I can hear the amusement in his voice, though.

I lift my head. He’s already been in the water—he’s wearing a pair of wet, black board shorts low on his hips, and rivulets run down his bare chest. His gorgeous, bare chest.

“Sorry, beautiful.” He smiles at me. “I didn’t know you were stuck in here.”

“Didn’t you wonder what was taking me so long?”

“Um... I would have.”

Noah’s face appears in the window. “You okay, Arya?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining what he just saw. “Yes.” I whisper to Harrison, “I think he got a good view of my cooch.”

“ What ?”

“Shit.” I press my forehead to his chest. “Now I’m embarrassed.”

“Uh...” He feels around my butt and finds my bathing suit bottom. “You’re not naked.”

“Not totally.” My face burns. “I can never face him again. Take me home.”

He laughs softly. “Well, I can’t say I’m happy that my brother may have gotten a look at your pretty pussy, but I don’t think he saw everything. It’s fine, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry I broke the door.”

He presses a hand to my hair. “It wasn’t your fault. Obviously, the knob was already broken.”

Carrying me, he steps through the bushes and onto the patio.

Mrs. Wynn appears. “What’s going on? Are you okay, Arya?”

“Yes.” I wriggle out of Harrison’s arms to stand and tug my cover-up down. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I broke the bathroom door.”

She covers her smile. “I’m sure you didn’t. We don’t use this bathroom very often anymore. I didn’t realize there was a problem.”

She’s so nice.

Noah appears through the sliding doors, wearing a bemused expression. “You okay, Arya?”

Everyone’s concerned about me. Too bad I’ll never be able to look him in the eyes again.

“Yes, I just need to drown myself in the pool.”

“I was about to come looking for you,” Everly says. “I’m so sorry.’

“It’s okay.” I pull off my cover-up, drop it onto a chair, and walk straight into the deep end, letting myself sink to the bottom in the nice, cool water, where I wish I could stay.

However, I pop back up to the surface.

Harrison’s treading water right in front of me. He eyes me with warm amusement. “Okay?”

“I’m fine.” I roll my eyes. “Just when you want to make a good impression...”

“Don’t worry about it.” His big hands circle my waist and pull me closer. Our slick, wet skin glides together. I hold onto his shoulders, resisting the urge to wrap my legs around his waist, which I would totally do if we weren’t surrounded by his family.

“Too many people here,” he murmurs, his hands going to my ass. “If we were alone, I’d lift you onto the side, pull off this little bottom”—he plucks at my bathing suit—“spread your legs, and feast.”

Oh dear God. I hope no one heard that but me. Inside, I’m melting. He’s doing a very good job of distracting me from my embarrassment.

Harrison laughs softly.

The water is lovely and silky, swirling around us, sparkling in the sun. Our wet skin glides together in sensuous slides that are turning me on. And Harrison too, from the bulge I feel in his shorts. Daringly, I brush my hand over it as we play in the water.

Noah gets a ball and we do a little impromptu volleyball. I’ve always loved swimming, and having a pool is such a luxury. This is heaven, and so much fun with Harrison’s siblings all cracking jokes.

Later, changed into dry clothes, we fill plates from the platters set out on the outdoor bar and take seats to eat grilled chicken and veggies, salads, and bruschetta on crusty, chewy bread. The conversation turns to hockey (surprise).

“What were you and JP nearly fighting about in that last game?” Everly asks Harrison.

He grins as he cuts his chicken. “I played a little prank on him.”

“What did you do?” I ask, wide-eyed.

“I stuffed his gloves full of bubble gum.”

“Eeeew!” My jaw drops. “Chewed-up gum?”

“No, no! It was wrapped. I laugh every time I think of him trying to shove his paws into his glove and trying to figure out why he can’t get them on. And then when he sees the gum. Ha!”

“And then when he realizes who did it,” Ash adds.

“You guys and your pranks.” Mrs. Wynn shakes her head.

“It’s tradition,” Harrison says. “Especially when it’s another Wynn.”

The talk turns to playoff predictions, and I’m fascinated by their analysis of how other teams will do, their strengths and weaknesses.

My gaze is caught by movement at the side of the house. I blink as two men walk around the corner, following the brick path to the patio. I gesture to Harrison beside me, who looks up.

“Jesus.” His head jerks back.

Everyone else looks too.

“Mark! Matthew!” Mrs. Wynn exclaims, standing. “Hi!”

“What are you guys doing here?” Mr. Wynn growls, also standing.

“It’s your birthday, Dad,” one of the men says. I’m not sure who is who. “We thought we’d come by.”

“You weren’t invited,” Mr. Wynn says bluntly.

The men and Mrs. Wynn exchange glances and I have a suspicion that she may have invited them.

“Well, have some food, since you’re here.” She gestures to the bar. “I’ll get a couple more plates.” She sets her dinner down on a table and hustles into the kitchen.

Harrison rises slowly and follows Mark and Matthew to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?” he offers.

They each take a beer and help themselves to food. Conversation has dried up, the atmosphere suddenly dense and heavy. I look around at the others.

“You haven’t met Arya,” Harrison says to his half brothers. “Arya, this is Matthew, and this is Mark.”

I smile and shake hands. Matthew is clearly older and looks very much like his dad, his hair graying and receding a bit. Mark has merely a touch of gray, and his wide shoulders and lean build indicate a very fit and muscular man. “Nice to meet you.”

Noah has pulled two more chairs closer to us and they sit with their plates.

“Happy birthday, Dad,” Mark says, echoed by Matt.

“Well.” Mrs. Wynn sits and looks around the group. She doesn’t look fazed by the unexpected appearance of her stepsons.

Which is a little weird to think about, because her stepsons are about the same age as her.

She smiles serenely. “This is a good chance for us to all talk.”

Mr. Wynn frowns. “About what?”

There’s another tense exchange of glances.

“I feel like I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper to Harrison, leaning over.

He sets a hand on my back and rubs a small circle. “You’re probably going to wish you weren’t.” He sighs.

My stomach tightens. This seems like it’s going to be a very personal family discussion.

“Let me start,” Everly says. “Mark, Matthew, I’m sorry that I blurted out all that stuff that night at the game. Actually, I’m not sorry I said it; I’m sorry I said it there . That wasn’t the appropriate place for that discussion.

“I missed it,” Mark murmurs. “But Matt filled me in.”

“We’re worried,” Everly continues, shooting her dad a glance. “This family needs to come together. Now more than ever.”

“You need to know,” Mrs. Wynn adds. “The doctors have confirmed that your dad has Alzheimer’s.”

I watch Matthew and Mark. Mark’s throat works; Matthew’s jaw tightens.

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” Matthew asks. “What about a second opinion?”

“We’ve seen a several doctors,” Mrs. Wynn replies. “They’re all in agreement. And they’re excellent doctors.”

There’s music playing from an outdoor speaker, but it seems to fade in the midst of the opaque silence that descends over us. I poke at a piece of grilled zucchini, wishing I could go get locked in the bathroom again.

“I’m not questioning the doctors,” Matthew says, his voice rough. “Just...”

“You’re in denial, like the rest of us,” Everly says quietly. She swipes a finger under one eye but lifts her chin.

“What are you talking about?” Mr. Wynn asks irritably. “The doctors said I’m fine.”

Everly’s lip trembles. Harrison closes his eyes briefly.

Mark and Matthew look to Mrs. Wynn. She shakes her head, her expression pinched.

“This lawsuit has to be settled,” Everly speaks up. “Now you know why.”

Mark and Matthew exchange glances and slowly nod.

“I have some information put together,” Mrs. Wynn says to them. “This isn’t the time, but if we could sit down and go through it, I have a...” She stops. “A proposal, I suppose. After the playoffs, maybe?”

“You didn’t steal that girl from your brother, did you?” Mr. Wynn suddenly demands.

He’s looking at Harrison. And me.

My mouth falls open. I turn to Harrison, confused.

“No, Dad,” he says.

“Good. Because that’s a dick move.”

“I know.” Harrison leans closer to me. “He’s thinking of JP.” He pauses. “I don’t think it’s worth getting into it.”

“JP stole his brother’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Long story. Evidently, Dad’s still pissed about it.”

Then Mr. Wynn starts into a story about one of the years he won the Stanley Cup. It’s a little rambling and doesn’t entirely make sense, but I can tell that it’s based on something that really happened. Everyone listens and reacts appropriately, smiling and commenting, but I can tell their hearts are breaking.

And I kind of feel like that too, because I hate seeing Harrison hurting. I finish my meal, set my plate on a small table, and reach for Harrison’s hand. I curl my fingers around it and he reciprocates, twining our fingers together, and we sit like that. I want to think, from the way he’s clasping my hand, that I’m helping in some tiny way.

Mrs. Wynn serves birthday cake that I can see nobody wants to eat, but everyone’s acting cheerful. Matthew and Mark are quieter than the others, moving to sit beside their dad to talk to him in low voices while they pretend to eat cake.

“You okay?” I ask Harrison without looking up from my chocolate cake.

“No.” He slants me a crooked smile. “I’m fucked up.”

“I know.” I reach for his forearm and squeeze it. “It’s okay.”

“You ready to go soon?”

“Sure. Any time.”

He takes my empty plate a few minutes later and carries it into the kitchen.

Following him, I say, “We should stay to help clean up.”

“Yeah.” He surveys the mess of dishes on the counter. “Let’s get these into the dishwasher.”

We set about rinsing and filling the dishwasher. I toss crumpled aluminum foil and plastic wrap into the trash while Harrison finds storage containers, and we move leftover chicken and veggies into them and store them in the fridge.

Mrs. Wynn comes in as I’m wiping the counter. “Oh my God!” She stops and looks around. “Did you two do this?”

“Yeah.” Harrison smiles at her, drying his hands. “It was Arya’s idea.”

She moves toward me with arms outstretched and my heart swells as she hugs me. She draws back and smiles. “Thank you. I’m glad you came and I got to meet you.”

“I’m happy to meet you too. I do feel like I probably shouldn’t have been here for some of that family business.”

“It’s fine.” She glances at Harrison. “We need to think about how we’re going to deal with this publicly. I think we should consult with Murray.”

I have no idea who Murray is, but... wow. Bad enough they have to go through this, they have to go through it in front of the whole world.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I don’t think we need to do anything yet.”

Everly enters the kitchen too, followed by Wyatt. “Oh! I just came in to help clean up.” She surveys the room. “It’s done.”

“Perfect timing,” Harrison says dryly.

She rolls her eyes.

“We’re out,” he says. “Thanks Mom, that was a great dinner.”

He hugs his Mom while I hug Everly.

“Let’s do drinks and appies again one day,” she says to me.

“Absolutely!”

“The playoff schedule comes out tomorrow, and then we’ll know what our life looks like for the next couple of weeks anyway.” She slides an affectionate look at her boyfriend. “I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good.”

We say more goodbyes, then climb into Harrison’s SUV to head home.

* * *

“I’m not going to be very available for a while,” Harrison says the next day in his SUV. “We need to focus on the playoffs. We’ll be traveling to Vancouver. Sometimes the team even makes us stay in a hotel here in town instead of our own homes so we’re not distracted by family shit.”

“And you have a lot of family shit going on.”

“True that.” His smile is rueful. “Anyway, I want to spend time with you as much as I can the next few days, if you’re okay with that.”

I smile. “I’d love that. I don’t want to be a distraction for you. I know how important this is.”

“Yeah.” He reaches over and squeeze my hand. “I just don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you when things get going.”

“I’m okay with it. Seriously. I have my friends, I have my work... in fact, I just got offered a great opportunity.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I’m going to do a rooftop sunset yoga class downtown once a week.”

He shouts a laugh. “No shit? That’s awesome!”

“I know, right? I just heard about it this morning. I’m excited. It’s a cool thing. So, um, where are we going?” He’s taking me out somewhere, but he’s been mysterious about where.

“You’re gonna love this.” He grins and twists his hands on the steering wheel in excitement. “Puppies and Pints.”

“Uh... what?”

“Puppies and Pints. We’re going to Last Glass Brewers. Once a month they have these Puppies and Pints evenings where they bring in rescue dogs and you can go and have a drink and play with the dogs.”

“Oh my God!” I press a hand between my breasts. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He slants me a smile. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Dogs! I miss my Roxy so much.”

“I know you do. And I know you want a dog of your own, someday. Maybe won’t be one of these ones, but you can enjoy them anyway and get some dog time.” He frowns. “That sounds weird.”

“No, it doesn’t. I need dog time. I need puppy hugs. I’m so excited!” I clap my hands.

The event is being held on the patio at Last Glass Brewers. The hostess shows us out there and seats us at a table. Before we even order drinks I’m eyeing the dogs.

My heart!

I can’t resist. I have to go see them. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I tell Harrison, leaving him to order.

I cross the patio and crouch down beside a beagle. “Hello, my sweetie.”

“This is Buster,” the girl holding his leash says. “He’s two years old. He’s very affectionate and friendly.”

I hold out my hand palm down which he sniffs, then I rub his chin. “Hi, Buster. You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you?”

He looks up at me with big brown eyes and I’m melting into a puddle of puppy longing.

Another dog comes over, tail wagging, eager for attention. He?—She?—is smaller, so I scoop him up. He lays puppy kisses all over my chin. I’m laughing as the girl from the shelter tells me this is Vita, an indeterminate mix of breeds who’s only eight months old.

“You are so sweet.” I cuddle him against me.

Harrison comes over with a plastic cup with beer in it for me. I set down Vita and take the beer. “Thank you.” I beam up at him.

He crouches beside me and holds out a hand for Vita to sniff. “Hey, little dude.”

I introduce them, earning an amused glance from Harrison. He rubs a hand down Vita’s back. Vita moves closer, eyes closing, nuzzling into Harrison. My heart trips again, watching him rub the dog and smile at him.

This is heaven. Harrison and I play with the dogs and drink beer and laugh a lot. I squeeze puppy bodies and boop noses and rub bellies. Harrison seems to enjoy it too, even though he’s apparently never had a dog. At one point I catch him watching me as I plant a kiss right between the eyes of Buster the beagle. My skin tingles everywhere at the heat I see in his eyes, and for a few seconds I actually forget the puppers.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“For bringing me here. I love it.”

He smiles slowly. “I can see that. I’m glad.”

My heart is already full of puppy love, and it swells even bigger. I want to throw myself at him and kiss him all over and...

I’m getting feelings for this man. Big, soft, tender feelings. Huge, scary feelings.