Page 6 of Harley
“Stew or pot roast,” I said. Harley rattled off side dishes, to my amusement, before serving everything and giving it to me. To my surprise, before Harley ate his own food, he unwrapped my feet and checked them over.
I didn’t wait. Screw manners. I dived straight in. Because of how I’d felt about my impending marriage, I had not eaten properly for over a month. My mother had been delighted at the sudden weight loss, considering that my capitulation to her desires. In fact, the thought of being married to Bronson and having to fend off his advances was enough to make anyone sick.
I inhaled the stew and eyed the pot roast. Harley was halfway through chicken and fries, and he put that to one side and served me the second dish. Shocked, I sat there open-mouthed as he did.
“What?” Harley demanded as he handed me the laden plate.
“You stopped eating to feed me,” I answered, shoving a potato into my mouth. Oh wow, proper food.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes?”
“Then I stop and make sure you’re fed,” Harley responded, as if it was that simple.
“You’re a unicorn,” I replied around a mouthful of lamb. I can’t remember the last time I had lamb and was prepared to lick the plate clean.
“Your family doesn’t eat meat?” Harley asked, looking puzzled. Oops, I’d said that aloud.
“Yes. But my mother put me on a boiled chicken and rice diet to lose weight. And the thought of the impending nuptials helped me lose sixteen pounds in a month,” I replied.
“That’s extreme,” Harley muttered. “You need to put some on. Why do idiot women think men like a rake in their bed? Being jabbed by hip and rib bones isn’t fun.”
I snorted. Harley just said what he thought.
“My mom is thin. Dad says it makes her look good. I was always curvy, and they hated that,” I replied.
“Your father is missing out,” Harley retorted.
“No, Dad has a curvy mistress on the side,” I declared with a laugh.
“Ah, a two-faced asshole. I know the breed well,” Harley said and carried on eating.
I used a piece of bread and wiped the gravy clean and sat back with a full tummy ten minutes later.
Dear God, a bowl of stew and a pot roast. Harley must’ve thought I was a pig, but I didn’t care. That had been the best meal I’d had since my wedding announcement.
“So, wanna talk about what you were running from?” Harley asked, and I immediately became guarded.
Harley regarded me openly, curiosity in his face, but nothing else.
“I didn’t want to get married.”
“Guessed that, Oakley. No woman runs from her wedding that desperate she tears her damn feet up,” Harley retorted.
“That was an arranged marriage. One that would benefit everyone but me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of being Bronson’s property,” I said.
Harley snorted. “Bronson?”
“Pretentious, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Almost as bad as Oakley. But my parents had me under lock and key until today, and I took my chance and ran,” I added.
Harley stiffened. “They kidnapped you?”
“Not quite. It’s complicated and very confusing at times. Let’s just say I didn’t go anywhere without a bodyguard. Everyone knew I didn’t want to wed Bronson, and they did everything possible to ensure I couldn’t escape. Now I’ve messed their plans up. If I can get through the next eighteen months, it won’t matter. Either that or I marry someone else,” I said with a bitter laugh.
