“Hey, baby . . . I’m taking Harlow to the airport,” Rush said into the phone. It was partly Rush and Blaire’s fault. I had seen them together and wanted to know that feeling. I had given in when Grant pursued me. Yes, he’d been pretty damn irresistible, but I’d also wanted to feel loved. I wanted to love someone freely and know the security that came with that.

But I didn’t get that. My heart would always stand in the way. God hadn’t created Grant for me after all. No, God had left me out. Figures. I was used to being left out in life. At least I had lived once. I had this memory to pull out and remember. Grant might not have loved me, but I had loved him. I still loved him. I knew what that felt like. I was thankful for that.

Maybe that was my gift. I had a few stolen moments of a life that I could have had if I was whole. I never had to give those memories back.

“She’s upset but she’s going to be okay . . . yes, I’m sure. She’s tough—a lot like another woman I know . . . yeah. I love you, too . . . I’ll call you when I’m on my way home. Don’t shoot Grant if he comes over there.” Rush grinned then hung up the phone.

He glanced over at me and his grin faded. “She’ll probably call you. A lot. Be prepared.”

I needed a friend. I was glad I had one in Blaire. “Okay,” I replied.

Rush pulled into the private airport that Slacker Demon’s jet usually departed from. I hadn’t called for the jet, so it wasn’t here.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Rush flashed an ID at the gate and they opened up. “I’m getting you a private jet. You can’t walk into the airport and get on a regular plane, Harlow. You’ll get mobbed. When you land in L.A., I’ll have a limo waiting to pick you up and get you to the house. Stay there. They’ll probably be swarming outside the gate.”

I hadn’t thought of any of that. He was right, though. My private life was now over.

“Thanks. I hadn’t . . . this hasn’t sunk in yet,” I said, opening my door.


Rush got out of his truck and walked toward the main office.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he called out.

I didn’t doubt Rush could get me a jet. He knew how to make the world do what he wanted. I often wondered if it was because he was raised in our fathers’ world.

He never seemed intimidated.

When he came walking out, he waved me over.

I went to him, trusting him to get me home safe. My time in Rosemary was over much sooner than I’d expected.

But the memory was mine to keep.

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