Scott & Harlow - A Day in the Life Nineteen Years Later

Harlow’s POV

6:15 a.m.

A text wakes me from the kind of sleep that didn’t refresh me in the way it should have. A million interruptions during the night guaranteed that, and while I’ve got a lot to do today, all I want now is to stay in bed for as long as I can.

I’m trying desperately to keep my eyes shut and convince my brain to go back to sleep when Scott’s hand slides over my waist and around to rest on my stomach. His chest presses against my back as his mouth brushes my ear. “Who the fuck is texting you at this time on a Sunday?” The early morning rasp in his voice does what it’s done to me for nineteen years: it hits my veins like the drug it is, which is not what I need while attempting to fall back asleep.

I curl my legs up into a ball and bury my face in my pillow. “I don’t know. They need to go away.”

Another text sounds from my bedside table.

And then another.

“Fuck,” Scott mutters before leaning across me to retrieve my phone. “It’s Madison.”

I groan.

When Madison sends texts this early, she’s on a mission to get a reply. Also, she reserves Sunday mornings for long sleep ins. If she’s awake this early, something’s up.

I roll onto my back as I take my phone from Scott who then brushes a kiss across my lips and leaves the bed to walk into our en suite. His naked ass almost draws all my attention, but honestly, I’m too tired for that. I read the texts instead.

Madison: Do you know what happened at the party last night?

Madison: Savannah slept here after the party, and I just found her with a black eye.

Madison: A black fucking eye that I didn’t notice last night when the girls got home! What am I going to tell Scarlett and Wilder????

Another text comes in as I’m reading.

Madison: WAKE UP, HARLOW! I’M STRESSED THE FUCK OUT HERE. WE ALL KNOW HOW PROTECTIVE WILDER IS. AND OMG SCARLETT WILL KILL ME!

I sit up, fully awake now, and call her.

She answers immediately and I hear every ounce of her stress. “Did Keaton say anything when he got home from the party? Savannah’s not talking, and neither is Jewel. I may need you to come save my daughter if she decides to stay silent. Honestly, that’s the last party I allow her to go to. J can finally get his way and lock all our girls up and never allow them out again.” She exhales a long breath when she finally stops talking.

“I didn’t see Keaton when he came home. Scott did, though, so I’ll ask him.”

“Ask me what?” Scott says, coming back into the bedroom.

My gaze is drawn to the muscles in his arms as he pulls a black T-shirt over his head. My husband doesn’t look anywhere near his age. Scott makes fifty-four look like forty-four.

“Did Keaton say anything about the party when he got home?”

He shakes his head. “No. But he wasn’t happy about something.”

I frown. “How not happy?”

He grabs a clean pair of jeans from the wardrobe before eyeing me again. “He looked like he wanted to punch the shit out of someone.”

Oh God.

Our seventeen-year-old son is like his father when it comes to using his fists: he has no patience for dickheads and is more than capable of winning a fight. Unfortunately, he’s found himself in more fights than I care for because unlike his father, he’s not capable yet of controlling his urge to brawl.

“You didn’t ask him about that?”

Scott gives me a pointed look while he dresses. “No. He wasn’t in a mood to talk, and I wasn’t in a mood to be pissed off by that.”

Keaton and Scott have always been close, but Keaton’s teen years have caused issues between them. Scott has little patience when Keaton shuts down on him during conversations and this is often a source of their arguments.

“Okay.” Madison brings me back to our conversation as I watch Scott stride out of our bedroom. “So, we still know nothing. Can you go and ask Keaton if he knows anything?”

I rub my temple where a headache is threatening. I’m already sensing today isn’t going to be my favourite day of life. “Yeah. I’ll call you back.”

We end the call, and after using the bathroom and dressing, I make my way to my son’s room. It takes a few minutes of knocking to wake him, and by the sound of his grumbly “What?” he’s as happy as I am to be awake.

“I need to ask you something,” I say through the door.

“Can’t it wait? I’m sleeping.”

“It’ll take five minutes at the most and then you can go back to sleep.”

He grumbles a string of words I can’t quite make out.

“Keaton, you have thirty seconds to get dressed and then I’m coming in.”

“Fuck,” he mutters before I hear movement. Then, the door swings open and I’m met with a pissed-off scowl that fills a face that is the spitting image of Scott’s. “What is it?”

My son towers over me these days and takes up more space than most boys his age. Keaton may be seventeen, but he has the body of a man much older with all the muscle he’s packed onto his frame.

“Do you know what happened to Savannah last night at the party?”

His features darken. “Why?”

My brows pull together at his odd response. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because she’s got a black eye today.”

His jaw clenches and those features of his darken some more, but he doesn’t give me the answer I’m looking for. Instead, he stares silently at me.

“Keaton, I need to know what happened. Scarlett and Wilder trusted Madison to look after Savannah last night, and they’re going to want to know who caused that black eye.”

He crosses his arms, feet planted wide, and continues staring at me silently for a few moments. Finally, he says, “You’re going to have to ask Savannah. It’s not my story to tell.”

“Right, well the only problem with that is she’s not talking. And neither is Jewel. So, I’d appreciate it if you could shed some light on this for us.”

His lips press together hard as he shakes his head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. You’ll have to ask her again.”

I stare at him while my mind races with possibilities. Scott said Keaton was angry when he got home last night, and he’s still angry this morning. Savannah is two years younger than him, and the best friend of his cousin, Jewel, who he goes out of his way to protect. That connection ensures he also looks out for her.

My gaze drops to his knuckles. They’re bruised.

I find his eyes again. “You got in a fight last night?”

He works his jaw again. It’s like looking at his father when he does this. “Yeah.”

“Did it have anything to do with Savannah and her black eye?”

“Yeah.”

I take a deep breath.

This can’t be good.

Keaton would never hit a girl, which means he punched a guy. Which means whatever happened to Savannah involved a boy.

Wilder is going to lose his absolute shit. Unless his wife gets to the boy first.

“Is that everything?” he asks, his arms still folded tightly over his bare chest.

“For now, yes.”

The look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t intend on getting into this with me again, and I don’t doubt that. It’s just another way he takes after Scott. Keaton only ever says what’s needed to get his point across, and when he doesn’t want to discuss something, there’s not much that can persuade him otherwise. He’s more about the physical. That’s his preferred way of communicating. With both the males in my life, I’ve had to learn how to read their body language a lot of the time.

I leave him and head into the kitchen. I’m wide awake now, so there’s no way I’m going back to sleep. I call Madison as I walk down the hallway.

She answers immediately. “Did he tell you anything?”

“Not much. All I know is that he got in a fight over her last night. From what he did say, I’m assuming a boy hit Savannah and then Keaton hit the boy.”

“Oh, God,” Madison says. “No wonder Savannah hasn’t stopped crying all morning.”

“I think you should call Scarlett.”

“I’m going to. I just feel awful that I didn’t notice the black eye last night.”

“We can’t see everything, Madison. Don’t beat yourself up over this. And also, I know if my kids don’t want me to see something like that, they’ll go out of their way to hide it.”

“Thanks, honey. Are we still on for this morning? You sound tired.”

I sigh. “I am tired. There was all sorts of drama going on in my neighbourhood last night. I kept getting woken up. I was concerned at one point that your brother was going to take matters into his own hands and sort shit out once and for all.”

“That sounds like something Scott would do. I’m surprised he didn’t.”

“I have my ways of distracting him.”

“No wonder you’re tired today. If you wanna skip shopping, we can do it another day.”

“I don’t want to skip it. Besides, the girls are so excited for it. I imagine a mass revolt if we don’t go today.”

We’re shopping for Madison’s oldest daughter’s formal dress today and have been planning this trip for weeks. Willow hasn’t stopped talking about it, and neither have Jewel or Savannah who are coming with us.

“Okay, we’ll meet you at ten. And pray for me that Scarlett and Wilder don’t drive all the way home to Brisbane after they hear about this black eye.”

Savannah and her brother are staying with Madison and J for a week while her parents are in Mt. Isa helping Wilder’s brother pack up their mother’s home to move her to Brisbane. His father passed away last year, and Wilder has finally convinced his mother to move closer to him and Justin.

“I’m on my knees, babe,” I say as I round the corner into the kitchen and spy my husband.

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

I laugh. “You have a filthy, filthy mind.”

“Honestly, I’m just thinking I’d rather be on my knees, on my back, on anything instead of having to deal with teenage girls this morning. Oh shit, I have to go. See you later.”

The call ends and I place my phone on the kitchen counter before moving into Scott and putting my arms around him. I look up and meet his gaze as his hands find my ass. “We’re not having any more children. I absolutely refuse.”

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “That was a given.”

I rest my chin against his chest, still looking up at him. “We’re also not having sex for like a week. You wore me out last night.”

His hands leave my ass, and he brings one up to slide into my hair while curving his other one around my neck. “That’s not a given. I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

I arch my brows. “Oh, really?”

“Really,” he growls before his lips crash down onto mine and he kisses me as if he hasn’t kissed me in weeks. It doesn’t matter if we go days between kissing or hours, Scott always kisses me like he can’t get enough of me.

I’m breathless when he finally lets me go. Smiling at him, I say, “Okay, so maybe I’ll let you proceed with those plans tonight.”

His eyes search mine. “What’s going on with Madison and Keaton?”

I share the story about Savannah’s black eye with him and the small amount of information Keaton shared with me.

“I’ll talk to Keaton about this,” he says, looking as angry about this as his son did. If there’s one thing a Storm man can be counted on for it’s looking out for the family members of their brothers. The tension that’s filled his body tells me he wants to get to the bottom of this.

I tighten my hold on him. “No, leave it, Scott. You two will just get into an argument. He’s not going to tell us anything more.”

The tension in his body doesn’t ease, but he doesn’t try to move away from me.

Wanting to shift the conversation, I say, “What time are you going over to help Aurora?”

Our daughter moved into an apartment with two of her friends a week ago and has asked Scott to help them build some furniture and do some maintenance around the apartment.

“I told her I’d be there at eight thirty.”

I grin. “I bet the girls loved that.” None of them are known to be early risers.

He hooks a finger into my jeans and tugs me closer. Not that I can get much closer. “Tell me again why we let her move out.”

My grin shifts into a soft expression of understanding.

This man.

I don’t know many men who are harder than Scott, but he always gives me this side of him. He allows me to see the parts of him that struggle. And right now, he’s struggling to let our eighteen-year-old daughter go. Scott wants nothing more than for Aurora to spread her wings and find herself while standing on her own two feet, but the transition period has been rough for him.

I grip his waist. “She’s going to be okay, Scott.”

He exhales a long breath. “Yeah.”

I curl my hand around his neck and pull his face down to mine so I can brush my lips across his. Then, I say, “Invite her for dinner next week.”

“You wanna start a weekly dinner tradition?”

“Do you think we’ve got any hope of her agreeing to that?” Aurora’s current mission in life is to be as independent as she can be. I can’t imagine she’ll show up weekly for dinner.

“I’ll make sure she agrees.” The gravel and raw emotion in his voice makes me think he might just succeed because it’s clear this means a lot to him.

I smile at him. “I love you, Scott Cole.”

He kisses me one last time and then says, “I should be finished by lunch. Will you be done with shopping by then?”

I give him an amused look. “Have you already forgotten that time you took Aurora shopping for her Year Ten Formal?”

Scott stepped in to take her dress shopping for that formal after I got food poisoning. Afterwards, he told me in no uncertain terms that he was never taking her shopping for clothes again. There was never any fear of that happening, though, because Aurora also told me to never inflict her father upon her again, that she’d rather go naked than endure another shopping trip with him.

“Fuck, that was four hours I never fuckin’ got back in my life,” he says.

“Right, so I highly doubt I’ll be done by lunchtime.”

His phone sounds with a text and he pulls it out of his back pocket to read it. He then eyes me and says, “She wants me to pick them up coffee on the way.”

I smile again. “You’ll always be her dad and she’ll always need you, Scott.”

“Yeah, well she better listen to me today when I tell her she needs better security because I’m installing cameras and an alarm whether she likes it or not.”

As I watch him leave the kitchen to take a shower, a memory of the two of them flashes through my mind. Aurora was fifteen and had her first boyfriend. Scott was beyond protective. To say it was a period of hell for me is an understatement. The two of them argued their way through the month of that boyfriend. But what always struck me was that Scott was who she went to when the boy broke her heart. Sure, she wanted comfort from me, but her dad was who she searched for first.

It's always been this way with them. They’ve been inseparable from the moment she was born. And I just know, deep in my soul, that they’ll always be this way.

I also know that Aurora is going to give him hell over that security today. I almost want to cancel on Madison so I can see how my husband makes it through this morning.

***

Scott’s POV

9:00 a.m.

“Dad! No. We don’t want security cameras throughout the apartment,” Aurora says, hands on her hips, fierce stubbornness covering her face. “You can put them outside, but not inside.”

“You’re getting them everywhere,” I say just as stubbornly. We’ve been arguing over this for a good half hour. What she doesn’t seem to understand is I have no intention of not installing these cameras everywhere I can put them.

Her lips flatten as she crosses her arms. “Oh my God, you are the most frustrating man alive! Does Mum know about this?”

“Of course your mother knows about this.” I reach for my drill.

“And she thinks it’s perfectly reasonable for you to install cameras everywhere, invading our privacy?”

“It’s not invading your privacy, Aurora. It’s ensuring your safety.”

She glares at me before eyeing Nash who’s helping me. “Can you please talk some sense into him? This is beyond ridiculous.”

Nash’s lips twitch. “Darlin’, I agree with your father about this. And do you really think I’d have any chance of talking him around if I didn’t?”

Aurora drags in a long breath and then exhales it loudly, arms still crossed as she gives me her attention again. “There’s no way you would have stood for this from your father when you were my age.”

“I didn’t need security, sweetheart. I could take care of myself.”

“Oh, so boys don’t need to be watched twenty-four-seven, but girls do? Tell me, when Keaton moves out, will you shove cameras all over his place too?”

“If I think there’s a threat he can’t handle, it’ll be the first thing I’ll do.”

She rolls her eyes. “We both know that you’d never think he couldn’t handle a threat.”

While I don’t think there’s any threat Keaton couldn’t handle, I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for him that I’m doing for Aurora if I felt it necessary. There’s not one fucking thing I wouldn’t do for my kids, including forcing my way into their homes with whatever security is required to keep them safe. And if that includes sending my entire fucking club to watch over them, so be it. Aurora wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping me.

Aurora looks like she’s settling in to keep arguing with me, but one of her flatmates steps in and says, “I don’t know, Rory, I’m okay with this. I like knowing we’ll have security.”

Nash grins at the girl and then at Aurora. “Listen to your friend here.” With that, he grabs his toolkit and looks at me. “Let’s get started, brother. Velvet needs me home by one this afternoon.”

He strides past me into the lounge room towards the boxes containing the furniture we have to build.

I eye my daughter who is still not happy about any of this. “I’m not doing this to check up on you. I just need to know you’re safe. If anything happened to you, and I hadn’t done everything I could to avoid it, I would never fuckin’ forgive myself.”

Something I say causes her to uncross her arms and soften her glare. With one last release of breath, she says, “I know, Dad, but honestly, you’re too much sometimes. None of my friends’ fathers go to these extremes.”

“Installing security cameras is not going to extremes.”

She arches her brows at me. “Yeah, but we’re not actually just talking about the installation of some cameras here, are we? I think we both know that when you say that’s what you’re doing, what you really mean is you’re installing cameras today, sending your boys over if required tomorrow, and starting a war anytime it’s needed. This is just the beginning of what I should expect, right?”

Aurora is her mother’s daughter. She tries her damnedest to challenge me at times. And just like I do with her mother, I sometimes allow the challenge. On this, though, she’s got no chance of winning any argument. “What you should expect is for me to ensure you make it to old age. And if anyone threatens you, they’ll wish they fuckin’ hadn’t.”

She watches me silently for a moment before finally saying, “I love you. Thank you. But we’ve got some work to do on your overprotective tendencies.”

With that, she turns and walks out of the kitchen where we’ve been arguing.

Not for the first time in her eighteen years do I wonder how the hell I survived those years. Both my kids are as headstrong as me, but some days I think Aurora has Keaton beat in this department. My daughter can be inflexible at times, and when she’s determined, not much will get in her way.

Today, I’m thankful she’s finally seen sense. She and I have been known to get into some fuckers of arguments and I’m glad we avoided one of those.

Nash and I spend three and a half hours building a bookshelf, a television cabinet, and a dining room table, along with installing the cameras and alarm. I inspect every window and door to make sure they’re secure. I also take a look up and down her street cataloguing every building and car I can see. It’s not necessary to do this because Griff’s already got all this information stored digitally, but it’s something I’ll do often. There’s no fucking way anyone’s doing anything in this street without me knowing about it.

As I’m finishing up, Aurora joins me again holding up her phone. “I was just texting with Mum and Lisa. She’s going to be in town next weekend and we’re thinking of having a spa day on Saturday, but Mum said that you’re planning to take her away for the weekend. Can you change that to another weekend so we can do the spa day?”

Finding a weekend that works for both Harlow and me to go away has been difficult. Between Keaton’s sporting commitments, Harlow’s art classes she attends most Saturdays, and other social commitments we’ve got, we either go away next weekend or we wait another few months. Fuck if I want to wait that long to get my wife to myself, but Lisa doesn’t come home to Brisbane often, and I know Harlow has been missing her like crazy since she moved to Sydney for work a year ago.

“Yeah,” I agree. “In exchange, I want you at dinner every Sunday night.”

Aurora frowns. “Every Sunday?”

“Yeah.”

She continues frowning. “I can’t commit to every Sunday, Dad. The girls and I go out some Sunday nights.”

“Mondays then.”

More frowning. “I have uni on Mondays until five.”

“Mondays it is.”

Her frown deepens. “No, wait. I just said I have uni until late.”

“You said you finish at five. That’ll give you plenty of time to get to our place for dinner.”

She shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t. I can’t do Mondays.”

I hold her gaze. “Pick a night, come for dinner, and do it every week. I don’t care what night it is; just be there. Your mother misses you.”

She opens her mouth to say something but Nash interrupts when he comes into the room and says, “I’m heading out, brother. I’ve gotta do some shit for Velvet this arvo, but do you need me to drop into the clubhouse first and check on the repairs?”

I’ve got some of the boys repairing the roof after a storm we had this week.

“No, I’ll drop by on my way home. Blade’s gonna be there in about an hour and I wanna catch up with him over some shit.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for helping, Nash,” Aurora says.

He smiles at her. “Anytime, darlin’.”

I reach for my toolkit as he leaves. To Aurora, I say, “Let me know tomorrow which night you’re coming for dinner.”

A text comes through on her phone, distracting her for a moment. As she taps out a reply, she says, “It’s going to be hard to find a night that I can make regularly, Dad.”

“It’ll be harder to avoid the guy I send to collect you when you don’t show up.”

Her head snaps up at that. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, sweetheart.”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head at me. “God, you are so extra.” She then strides out of the room, calling over her shoulder, “I’m talking about this with Mum.”

***

Harlow’s POV

1:05 p.m.

Aurora: Dad just threatened to send a club member to bring me to your place if I don’t turn up for dinner weekly. You need to talk to him. This is too much. He’s so unreasonable about some things.

I stare at my daughter’s text message but only for half a minute because my son is demanding all my attention.

He arrived at the dress shop five minutes ago after I called and asked him to bring me my purse when I realised I’d forgotten it. He’s spent the last few minutes talking with Savannah, and from what I can work out, Keaton’s not happy with her.

My phone rings, causing me to jump. I was so engrossed in trying to figure out what’s happening between them that I fumble with my phone and drop it.

“Shit,” I mutter as I bend to retrieve it. Noting it’s Aurora calling, I answer, “Hi honey. What’s up?”

Her energy immediately spills from the phone. “Did you get my text? Did you see what Dad’s done now? Seriously, Mum, you need to tell him to stop. I know it’s not your preference to get in between him and me, but you’re going to have to on this. He can’t be sending club members to my place to drag me to dinner. It would effectively be kidnapping me!”

I frown as I watch Keaton lean down and into Savannah’s personal space while saying something to her. Whereas a moment ago he appeared unhappy, now his features have softened, and he looks to be saying something thoughtful to her.

“Mum! Are you listening to me?” Aurora demands.

“Yes. Sorry.” I sigh. “Dad’s finding this hard, Aurora.”

“Finding what hard?”

“You leaving home. I need you to help him through the transition period and come to dinner like he wants you to.”

“Wait. He said you’re missing me. Is this all about him?”

“Well, I am missing you. That’s very true. But he is too. And I know you think of your father as a strong, fierce man who never stumbles or struggles with anything, but he does at times. Seeing you once a week for dinner is important to him and I want you to make it a priority.”

Aurora turns silent and my thoughts drift back to Keaton and Savannah. She’s been quiet throughout this shopping trip. If I had to pick her mood, I’d say she seems sad. Madison still doesn’t know how she got that black eye.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” Aurora says.

I frown as Savannah begins crying, dropping her gaze to the floor, and inspiring Keaton to tip her chin up to bring her eyes back to his. I frown some more when he wipes her tears away.

“What’s going on with Keaton and Savannah?” I ask Aurora.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Is something going on with them?” God knows I’ll need to be prepared for it if there is. Keaton’s two years older than Savannah, and I’m almost certain her parents would not be happy for their daughter to be involved with an older guy. Especially since Savannah hasn’t shown any real interest in boys until recently.

“Not that I know of.” She pauses before adding, “I’m pretty sure Keaton’s still hung up on Thea.”

I’m not convinced of that. Thea broke up with him four months ago and he hasn’t mentioned her for a couple of months now. He also wasn’t happy about being cheated on. I don’t think he’ll ever date her again. Loyalty is everything to my son.

“Well, I’m watching them right now, and they seem very close. Maybe you could ask him about her.”

Aurora groans. “You do know Keaton’s seventeen, right? Like, he’s not my baby brother who follows me around everywhere anymore. He stopped telling me stuff about two years ago.”

“Could you try? For me?”

She groans again. “If you talk to Dad about this dinner thing, I’ll talk to Keaton about Savannah.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call Keaton this afternoon and let you know tonight. And you’ll let me know how you go with Dad.”

I agree and we end the call as I think about the conversation I need to have with Scott. He can’t threaten Aurora with sending a club member every time she doesn’t do what he wants her to do. However, I already know how this conversation will go down. Nineteen years of being with this man tells me I have a very low chance at success here.

***

Scott’s POV

3:30 p.m.

I arrive home to find my son punching the fuck out of his punching bag in the home gym we’ve set up in the shed. It’s not unusual to find Keaton out here, but it’s unusual to find him hitting it so hard.

I watch him for a couple of minutes before asking, “Who pissed you off?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, his fists keep pounding the bag.

“I asked you a question, Keaton.”

He scowls and continues hitting the bag.

Knowing I’ve got little chance of him opening up while he’s in this mood, I reach for the mitts and put them on. Jerking my chin at him, I say, “Come here.”

The scowl doesn’t leave his face, but he does what I say. A moment later, he’s punching the mitts I’m holding up.

We train in silence for ten minutes. Keaton punches the mitts harder than he ever has. I push back just as hard, giving him the resistance he needs to get this out of his system.

After ten minutes, I say, “You ready to tell me what’s going on yet?”

He grunts his way through another punch before stopping and wiping sweat from his face. “No.”

I eye his water bottle on the ground. “Have a drink and then we’ll do another ten minutes.”

We repeat this twice. On the third round, I sense the force of his punches easing. I give him his full ten minutes before asking again, “Who pissed you off?”

He continues hitting the mitts for another minute before finally stopping and looking at me. Sweat slicks his skin and fury bleeds from his pores. “A motherfucker who needs to learn some fuckin’ lessons.”

“The guy who gave Savannah that black eye?”

He works his jaw. “Yeah.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“That wasn’t a question, Keaton.”

“It sounded like one.”

I cross my arms and wait for him to give me what I’m after. I’ve been patient with him but I’m ready for him to talk.

He continues working his jaw as he lifts his forearm to his forehead to wipe the sweat away. “He made a move on her at the party. She didn’t like the move. He got rough with her. I took care of it.”

Now, it’s my turn to clench my jaw. “How far did he get with her?”

“I stopped him before he got what he wanted, but I wasn’t there in time to stop him hitting her.”

“Who?” I demand. I agree with Keaton: this kid needs to learn a lesson. And his parents need to know what he did.

“You’re not getting involved in this,” he says with more determination than I’ve ever seen in him.

“Scarlett and Wilder need to know about this.”

“No.” He turns to the punching bag.

“Keaton—"

He swings back around to face me, cutting me off. “Savannah doesn’t want them to know. I only told you because I knew you wouldn’t let it go. I’m talking with her and trying to help her figure this shit out in her head, so can you just drop it and let her find the right time to open up to them?”

Sitting back isn’t something I’m good at doing but fuck if raising kids hasn’t forced me to learn. It’s still not my first choice, but at times it’s been my only choice.

I take a good look at my son as I think about everything I’m seeing and hearing in him. Keaton’s one of the popular kids at school. Always has been. High school has been a rollercoaster for him and me as he’s navigated his way through that popularity and everything it’s brought him.

Girls are all over him while boys look up to him.

Last year, he and I went to battle often over the way he treated girls. He’s always respected girls but having a never-ending line of them waiting to gain his attention meant that when he grew bored there was always another girl in line. As far as I was concerned, Keaton was too willing to go from one to the next without enough thought about the feelings involved.

We fought a lot while I did my damnedest to teach him that this wasn’t acceptable. Somewhere along the way, he paid attention and at the end of last year, I noticed a change in him. It was subtle, but it was there, and he’s only dated two girls this year.

After listening to him talk about how he’s trying to help Savannah, I sense more of a change in him. I also sense the kind of responsibility that Harlow and I have wanted to see in him for a long time.

Maybe I need to give him the space to see this through. To not only help his friend but also to mature some more himself.

I nod. “I’ll drop it. But she needs to talk with her parents about this at some point.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. I’ll help her get there.” He goes back to his punching bag, hitting it twice before asking, “Can you spot me?”

I eye the weights. “Yeah.” I can’t recall the last time Keaton asked me for any kind of help. I’ve got a million things to do this afternoon, but there’s no way I’m saying no to him.

He stops punching the bag and removes his gloves. “Have you got any time later to help me with my bike?”

“I’ve got all afternoon.” I’ll stay up late to get my shit done. “Are you going out tonight or do you wanna help me barbecue some steak for dinner?”

He gives me a pained look. “You didn’t get that same steak as last time, did you? Mum hated that and never shut up about it for a week.”

“No, I went to a different butcher.” I’ll never make the mistake of buying from that other butcher again. Keaton’s right: Harlow did complain for a week about how awful the steak was.

He makes his way to the weights. “I’m not going out tonight. I’ll help you with the barbie.”

It’s been a long time since the two of us have gotten on this easily. His teens have strained our relationship to the point where I sometimes find myself not even stepping foot into situations that hold potential landmines. Just to keep the fucking peace.

I know a new landmine is around the corner. There’s always something on the horizon. But I’m fucking grateful for this easy mood between us today and will make the most of it.

***

Harlow’s POV

10:15 p.m.

Madison: Willow’s having a moment.

Harlow: What kind of moment?

Madison: The kind that will send J crazy. She’s not sure about her dress now.

Harlow: How will that drive J crazy? Wouldn’t it drive you crazy?

Madison: It will drive him crazy because after it drives me crazy, he’ll have to hear all about it over and over.

Harlow: Well, if us mothers have to take care of all this shit, the least our husbands can do is deal with us while we deal with it.

Madison: So true. Are you still in love with the dress you got today?

Harlow: I’m about to try it on again and see.

Madison: Let me know how you go. I die for it on you!

I strip and take the black dress I bought today off its hanger in the closet. Slipping it over my head, I smooth it into place and move in front of the mirror. The dress is shorter than I usually prefer, barely reaching my knees. It’s also tighter than the dresses I’ve been wearing for a long time now. I’ve put on a little weight and possibly should have selected the next size up. The store didn’t have the next size, though, and Madison convinced me this size is perfect.

Scott strides into the bedroom as I run my hands down over the fabric covering my stomach. Slowing, his eyes drop to my body and instantly flare with heat. When his gaze finds mine again, he growls, “That dress isn’t gonna last long on you.”

Scott can be counted on for many things, the least of which is making me feel good about myself. He has never once failed me on this. And especially not in the moments I couldn’t find a way to love my body. He has always told me how sexy he finds me, and he’s always taken the time to show me how sexy he finds me. I realised many years ago that there’s a big difference between someone saying words to you versus backing those words up with actions. I need the actions and my husband always gives me what I need.

“Probably not,” I agree as he moves behind me and puts his arms around me. “It’s so tight that it may split in half.”

His lips graze my neck. “It’s fuckin’ sexy as hell, Harlow.”

I place my hands over his when they slide over my stomach. “I’m not sure about it.”

I watch him in the mirror as he looks at every inch of my body. “You should be sure as fuck about it.”

Those words move through me, settling deep inside. I always believe Scott because he’s not the kind of man to say something unless he absolutely means it.

When his eyes meet mine, I smile. “I love you, Scott Cole.”

Keeping his eyes on mine, he kisses my neck again before saying, “I’m going to tell you something you can’t repeat to anyone.”

“Okay.”

He kisses his way up my neck to my cheek. “And you can’t tell Madison.”

“Well, you just said I can’t tell anyone, so I figured that included Madison.”

He stops what he’s doing and gives me a pointed look. “We both know that’s not true.”

I curl my fingers tightly over his. “I don’t know what you mean right now.”

He continues giving me that pointed look.

When he doesn’t start talking again, I say, “Fine, we both know that wasn’t true. I won’t tell Madison.”

“Savannah hooked up with a guy at the party last night who tried to force her into sex. When she said no, he got rough with her. That’s how she got the bruise. Keaton stepped in and dealt with the guy.”

I stare at him, stunned that he knows all this while I know none of it. “Keaton told you this?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“He opened his mouth and words came out—”

I smack him lightly. “Smartass. I mean, how did you get him to open up?” Not even Aurora could get him to talk this afternoon when she called him.

“I have my moments, sweetheart.”

He really does.

“Why can’t I tell anyone?”

“Keaton asked me to let him handle this with Savannah. He told me he’ll spend time with her helping her get to the point where she feels able to tell Wilder and Scarlett.”

“Are they together?”

Scott frowns. “Who? Keaton and Savannah?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t lead me to believe they are.”

“I think there’s something there.”

He contemplates that for a moment. “You’re worried about that?”

“Yes. I hardly think Wilder and Scarlett would be okay with Savannah dating an older guy when she’s got no experience with dating yet.”

“I think it was my wife who told me we can’t control everything when it comes to our kids.”

I grin and turn in his arms. Putting my hands to his chest, I say, “You’re in a playful mood tonight. Also, yes, your wife did say that and you’re gonna have to take that advice again about your own daughter.”

His eyebrows pull together. “Why?”

I cock my head. “Threatening to send club members to kidnap her isn’t behaviour I would encourage.”

“Kidnap is a little over the top, don’t you think?”

“Well, that was her interpretation.”

“I want her here for dinner once a week. She does that, she won’t be kidnapped.”

“Baby, I get it, but you seriously can’t play that card in this situation.” I grip his shirt. “We have to let her go for a while. Let her have new experiences in the world. She’ll come back to us when she’s ready.”

“Fuck.” The curse falls roughly from his mouth, and I feel the difficulty he’s having with all of this.

I reach a hand up to curl it around his neck. The skin-to-skin contact is everything I need, and I know it’s what he needs too. We’ve made it through all these years together because we’ve always stuck together. In our darkest moments, we’ve clung to each other, often skin to skin, and loved each other as imperfectly as we could in order to get through.

“I think she’ll show up for dinner more than she says she will, but we can’t force her, Scott. And you really can’t send club members to collect her.”

His eyes search mine for the longest time. I don’t rush him. I allow him the space to take what he needs.

“Thank fuck she and I have you,” he finally says. “We’d fuck this up if we didn’t.”

I smile as I shake my head. “You wouldn’t fuck it up. You’re an amazing father. You’d figure it out.”

“Not to sound fuckin’ sappy, but the only reason I’m the father I am is because of you.” His fingers thread through my hair and he pulls my face to his so he can kiss me. He takes his time with my lips and when he finally ends the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine and says, “I fuckin’ love you, Harlow.”

I smile as every cell in my body lights up with the kind of need this man never fails to make me feel. Reaching for his belt buckle, I lift my head to look at him. “So, we agree? You’ll stop with the kidnapping threats? Or do I still need to work on this?”

Scott reads me as perfectly as he has for nearly two decades. He jerks his chin at our bed. “Get your ass on that bed. But let the record show that if I don’t see our daughter at least twice a month for dinner, this conversation will be revisited, and you won’t get your way as easily next time.”

The last thought I have before he joins me on the bed is how lucky I am to have Scott as my partner in life. He’s the very best husband, father, lover.

The man I never saw coming all those years ago.

The man I’m so glad I never let go of.

The man who is my forever.

>>> Scott & Harlow's story was told in my book, Fierce, which you can find here.

>>> Yes, I will be writing Storm Next Gen! Not yet, though. First, I'm writing these books:

• The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker, which takes place after the events of the Colt Epilogue (which was seven years after the events of Colt's story). This book will be the first in a series of books about the same couple. Along the way, you'll see all the Storm couples and catch up on their lives. For series context, this series takes place eleven years after Storm and eight years after King's books.

• Then will come the Stone Ops series, which takes place at the same time as the Girlfriend's Guide books.

• The Storm Next Gen books will be set a decade or more after these books and will come after the Stone Ops series.