13. Harlow

CHAPTER 13

HARLOW

W hat do grumpy girls do when their hearts feel like they’re made of thin ice? They sulk and grouch and grumble.

I’ve also spent ample time at Higgins’ Market studying the baking supplies aisle as if the skill will parlay itself to me through sheer force of will. I do more trial than error while alone in the kitchen at the SkyBnB.

Even though I’ve seen Angel a few times while here, I make a point to visit Happy Horizons Ranch. It’s a camp where children who otherwise wouldn’t have the opportunity to be outdoors and be around animals learn some basic skills as well as have the chance to play and explore. The property is beautiful with rolling hills, a big barn, and a goat that looks like it wants to play a game of chicken as I pull down in the driveway. A little boy, who’s not so little anymore, shoos him off.

Could that be Andy? I do the math. Wow. He’s already twelve. Where has the time gone? I say hello and thank him for being a pro goat wrangler. He tells me about Edgar, the ranch’s resident menace.

As ever, Angel and I exchange a big hug—she’s one of the select few who get this kind of affection from me, but her heart is so big, I cannot resist.

We sip coffee and catch up, which mostly involves me insisting Teddy and I are just friends and her denying that anything is going on between her and a certain someone she has an eye on. Cough, assistant coach, cough.

I have to admit, I rather like being close to family, this small town, and all the possibilities. It seems like life in Tulsa is more than two thousand miles away.

For the rest of the week, I keep busy, putting some distance between myself and Teddy, but not because I don’t want to be with him. He’s also right about the whole love thing.

He’s the Ice Breaker. I feel like a heart breaker. But I don’t know what to do or how to fix this.

I didn’t need to read the screenshot of the text post-wisdom teeth extraction to remember what it said. I’d written, Will you be my farmboy, please.

To anyone else, that might seem weird or random, but we’d watched The Princess Bride so many times that he knew it was Buttercup’s way of saying, I love you .

In a panic, I pick up my phone because this is best friend conversation material. But Teddy is my best friend and I can’t very well talk to him about us . Plus, he’s at the arena playing hockey.

I try Jill, but she doesn’t answer, making me worry about my plant babies and Leo, on top of my love life. I try Willa .

She answers on the second ring. “I saved you a seat. Why didn’t you come to the game? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. No.”

“Tell me the noes first.”

Instead, I start in the middle. “The photography worked too well.”

“Does that mean you’ve made some progress toward healing?”

“Teddy and I went in the hot tub.”

Knowing the full story about the accident, she gasps. “Not to underplay that healing miracle, but why do I sense there’s more to this story and that it involves the Ice Breaker’s defenseman?”

My confession makes my cheeks pink as I tell her everything that’s happened from the kiss to us playing house.

“Ha! I knew it. I could tell when we were on the hayride. The way he looked at you . . .”

“He probably looked at me funny because I had straw in my hair.”

“At the game tonight, he hardly smiled. Had agony in his eyes. Played extra tough.”

“I should’ve been there.”

“More importantly, why haven’t you been together all along?” Willa asks.

She wears down my defenses with her astute and truthful observations. “Because we’re best friends first.”

“You do realize that a lot of relationships start with the two people being friends.”

“Well, yeah, but Teddy is—Teddy.”

“Are we talking about Ted ‘The Bear’ Powell?” Without letting me answer, she adds, “He lets you call him Teddy? You know a very different guy than the rest of the team, possibly the world.”

“We’ve been friends forever.”

“You’ve barely scratched the surface of forever. There’s a lot of road ahead of you. What I’m hearing is you’re conflicted about your friendship versus a relationship.”

I shift my weight. “Sort of, when you put it that way.”

“What are you looking for in a guy?”

“Someone I can trust. Who’s honest, thoughtful, funny, and smart. Attractive, obviously.”

Willa says, “Sounds like Ted to me, or as you call him, Teddy,” she singsongs.

My voice is almost a whine. “But he’s my best friend.”

“And you have chemistry, he makes you giggle, and you find him attractive.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. He has a great butt.”

I almost laugh.

“You’re friends and you kissed. I can see the concern. If I were a stubborn kind of person, I’d be acting just like you, but?—”

“I’ll let that slide, Willa.”

“But you like everything about him—wholeheartedly.”

I sigh with my whole heart.

“Let’s figure this out. Three levels come before a romantic relationship. Friends, squishes, and crushes.”

“Did you say squish? My friend Jill in Tulsa was just telling me about having a squish.”

“Sounds like we’d get along great. Back to what I was saying. Friendship is pretty self-explanatory. A squish is slightly more platonic. You might think of the person often, want to share things, laugh together, and have physical proximity that’s more intense than, say, like us. Sorry, Harlow, but I don’t squish you.”

“I should hope not. Sounds like it could hurt.” The woman has shoulders and upper arms worth noting.

She chuckles. “Not admitting you love someone hurts even more, and if you take a moment to think about how Teddy likely feels, especially after the face wash he gave Jeff Pritzer on the other team . . .”

My voice gets strangely dreamy when I say, “Teddy is pure human combustion. A living sun. Nothing could dull the way he shines.”

“Maybe that’s the way he is around you. I see a lethal grizzly. And he destroyed the ice tonight. Now I know why.”

My chest craters.

Willa continues, “Again, back to what I was saying. A crush is a few steps up from a squish. Do you get giddy around him? Is he the first person you call when you want to celebrate or sulk?”

I tip my head from side to side because this very call is a result of that.

She goes on, “Do you want to look your best around him and also feel comfortable to be yourself?”

I think about the way he looked at me when we got ready for our fancy dinner and how he doesn’t judge me for my house pants.

“Does being around him make you happy? Chase away the clouds?”

“He’s just so chipper.”

“Maybe you need some of that. Perhaps you need him. The next level up from a crush is falling in love, then pure, true, deep everlasting love.” She sighs .

“So it goes friends, squish, crush, falling, love.”

“You got it and trust me, I do too. He let his guard down. You’re scared. It’s your turn to take your shot.”

There’s a pregnant pause while this sinks in, but then Willa has to go because everyone is getting together for a post-game gathering. The call ends but the words stick with me.

The thing is, I’m not a professional hockey player and couldn’t get a puck past a goalie if I tried. Probably. But maybe I don’t need to be.

Frowning, I realize that I feel lonely without Teddy. But even if we somehow made this work, I live in Tulsa and he’s in LA or Omaha, depending on what happens with his career.

Could we handle things long distance? Could I leave Oklahoma?

I swipe through the photos I took at the arena. There’s a lot of hockey butt . . . and ice. Perhaps that wasn’t the therapy I needed. Teddy has helped me on my road to healing. Every time. It’s always been him. I was keeping the camera between myself and the truth.

I love Teddy and would do anything for him, including going back to the job I hate. If he feels half as wretched as I do right now, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this better. To be better.

I could remain stuck in the past, frozen by the accident, taking photos and writing fictional fantasy stories or I could go after my forever. Ours.

Setting a log on the fire, I wait up, hoping he’s not back too late. To keep myself awake, I make chai and wish I had a churro as a peace offering. Instead, I try the spiced maple churro mini muffins recipe again. They’re as close as I can get to a churro and combine my favorite autumn flavors. This is so not me, but I want to be cozy. I can’t remember the last time I made cookies. Have I ever?

An hour later, Teddy plows into the house like a bull. He drops his duffel bag and shakes out his hair, which is all flappy from the game. He’s unshaven and looks wrecked, but I will fix this, fix us.

He pops a mini muffin in his mouth, moans with delicious delight, and spots me sitting by the fire.

“You’re up.” He’s rough like a bear, but all Teddy with a hint of that trademark carefree and flirty smile I realize I love. And his hair. His face. All of him.

“I, um, heard the game went well.”

He grunts.

“What’s with the noises?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“The grunting and growling.”

“Well, get used to it,” he grumbles, heading for the stairs.

“I made muffins,” I say, hoping that’ll keep him down here . . . with me.

“I see that. Thanks.” His voice is flat.

“Um, I was wondering if we could talk.” I’ve never felt so awkward in my life.

“You want to talk?”

I nod, jostling my tea.

He returns to the living room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I’ve been thinking about us.” Gaining steam, I continue, “I was afraid of losing myself to a relationship. But you’ve only ever added to my life in the best possible ways. ”

He picks up the fire poker and for half a second I imagine him bending it in half. But he stabs the fire, stoking the coals and reminding me of a very big and fierce bear. I squirm, but then remember he’s my bear. Still, I don’t know how this will go and my breath sticks.

Getting brave, I say, “I want us to be friends, but more than that, I want to be in a relationship with you. Now, tomorrow, forever.”

Turning his back on the fire, he drops heavily into the chair, elbows balancing on his knees, and lets out a long breath.

“I’m sorry I was being so stubborn, so dumb. So grumpy,” I add, suddenly afraid this ship is sinking, and he’s already in the lifeboat drifting away.

Voice low, he says, “You don’t have to apologize for the last one. As for the other two, you’re forgiven.”

Relief flows through me. Even though I’m not a handsy kind of person, he is so I shift closer, and I place my palm on his back, rubbing circles. “I let myself acknowledge how much I care about you. I only hope it isn’t too late.”

“Too late for what?” Teddy asks, craning his head over his shoulder.

“We changed the dynamics of our friendship.”

Expression stony, Teddy says, “It’s true. There’s no going back. But I’d never turn my back on you, Harlow. That’s what love is.”

My heart swells. “For most of my life, I’ve been always on the defense.” I can’t help the smile that grows on my lips, no doubt making my dimples pop. “You’re a hockey defenseman. Teddy, I’ve trusted you with our friendship. For so long, it felt like the only real and true thing in my life. I’ve been afraid to lose it. But from now on, I trust you with my heart too.”

He twists to face me and turns from grizzly bear and back into my teddy bear. “Really?”

“Really,” I repeat.

His features brighten with a smile. “In that case, I’d like to think of our friendship situation more as renovated and expanded. It’s under new management. New name. Same great flame.”

I giggle. “So, what’s next?”

“You tell me, Hurricane Harlow. Sereni-Tea? I’ve also always liked Milk & Honey.”

“Did you just rename my tea company?”

He shrugs. “It’s a suggestion.”

“I’ve never thought of myself as sweet.”

“It’s all about balance, right? Hockey is my job, and it’s a joy, as cheesy as that sounds. But you are my focus. Whatever happens next, it’s you and me.”

“You mean that?”

“I do. Except I did sign my contract for the Knights because I thought, um, you’d called it quits.”

“I like Omaha.”

“They’re my hockey team, but you’re my life team. We’ll figure things out.”

I take a deep breath. “We will.”

No more needs to be said with words. His gaze captures mine. I lean in. His lips part and are on mine. At times his kisses are tender, at others, they’re rough and tough, but they’re all mine. I don’t have to worry about puck bunnies or future fiancées, or anything. This man has always been there for me and will continue to be so long as I let him .

Melting into the kiss, I know that I will . . . forever.

When we part, Teddy says, “Knock knock.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Who’s there?”

“Me.” Teddy’s lips quirk.

“Me who?”

“I love you.”

“That’s not quite a knock-knock joke.”

“Nah. But it’s true. I love you, Harlow.”

Taking a deep breath, I speak the truest thing I know. “I love you, Teddy.”