Page 14 of The Heartstrings of Harry (Mulligan’s Mill #5)

HARRY

I paced the floor of my living room, muttering over and over to myself—“Fuck! I could have kissed him. He could have kissed me. We were so close. What the fuck is going on?”

I stopped and backed myself up to the sofa, bouncing onto it with a feeling of elation… dread… hope… panic.

That night I took the framed photo of Dean and placed it on my nightstand.

I masturbated, not taking my eyes away from his handsome face.

The next day I busied myself at the store. I let Gage take the counter while I replenished the stocks of two-by-fours and fence pickets out back. I drove the forklift back and forth, loading pallets of pavers and marble countertops and bags of river stones into the storeroom. I did everything I could to avoid making conversation with my customers and even my staff, my head a blur of thoughts and my heart a flurry of emotions.

I tried frantically to clear my mind.

I tried in vain to suppress my desires.

I tried like hell to pull myself out of the rabbit hole that led to Dean.

But all I could think was—

You’re a secret on the wind

You’re a stolen work of art

You’re the one I’ve always wanted

You’re the hammer of my heart