Her heart-shaped lips gasp, “There’s more?”
I grin again.
“If you’re a good girl.”
She sits prim and proper and awaits her surprise with renewed patience.
I can’t help but chuckle at the sudden shift in her attitude, as I get in the car and put it in drive. I pull out of the garage and onto the road, and soon, we’re coasting down an empty highway. My hand uses her thigh as a rest, and gradually, her legs spread open. Then, I notice her other hand has slipped down into her skirt. “Sweetheart, you are going to make me wreck my car.”
“Fine,” she pouts and puts her hands in her lap once more. “Where are you taking me?”
I only smile and grip the steering wheel even harder. It’s difficult to focus with Harlow mere inches away. I know the suspense is driving her crazy too, so I relent and stroke her thigh. I can feel goosebumps and I know her nipples are hard. She has such pretty pink nipples, and I’ve never seen their equal. They’re delicate, responsive, and not quite circular. I have to readjust my trousers, since they’re suddenly tight again. Fuck. She’s going to make me wreck my car without even doing anything.
I blurt, “What was the first pet you had?”
She turns to me with a smile on her face.
“That’s random.”
“Please sweetheart. Cat, dog, what?”
She chuckles at my desperation.
“I had a cat and her name was Kiki. She was super-cute.”
“How old were you?”
“I was four, why? Why the sudden interest?”
But I barrel on ahead.
“What was Kiki’s favorite toy?”
Harlow thinks she’s onto something, and narrows her eyes at me.
“Am I getting a pet, Gray? Is that the surprise?”
“I just want to know more about you, that’s all,” I explain.
She giggles.
“Gray, you’ve known me my whole life. What more could I tell you?”
“Then how did I not know you had a cat named Kiki?”
“Okay,” she says. “Well, Kiki liked those fake mice with the catnip in them, but more than that, she liked to get stuck behind Mom’s vintage upright piano.”
“Oh, I remember now. White, little pink bow?”
“That’s the one. I loved her, but god, she was so silly.”
I nod, “I remember Catherine hated her.”
Harlow sighs.
“My mom hated a lot of things,” Harlow says, shaking her head. “I’m not sure that Catherine ever really wanted to be married to my dad. She definitely didn’t make life easy for him or for herself, that’s for sure. And after I was born, I think she felt really stuck.” Before we realize it, an hour has passed, and I turn toward our destination. Harlow looks at a passing sign and reads it out loud.
“The Commons. What is this place?” her voice trails off as she sees her first outdoor sculpture at the sculpture park. “Oh my god, that’s Bayer’s Articulated Wall!”
“Surprise!” I grin.
She enthusiastically starts kissing my neck.
“Thank you so much for bringing me here, Gray! I’ve wanted to come for a really long time.”
I have to focus to keep from veering into a sculpture before I can park, and I laugh. “You’re welcome. Now hands to yourself, before I drive us into one of these art installations.”
“Sorry!” she cries. But she’s so antsy to get out of the car that I find myself going faster than the posted 10 MPH of the park. We stop and she kisses me hard. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
I’m flustered by her delight because I didn’t expect such a reaction. I knew she’d be happy but I didn’t think she’d be over the moon the way she is now. But then I grin. It makes me happy to see her happy.
“We’re playing hooky from work today, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
“Okay,” she says cheerfully before scrambling out of the car.
The rolling green hills are bright in the afternoon sun, but nothing shines like Harlow. She spins in a circle, trying to take all of it in at once, before she launches herself towards the Bayer sculpture. I work with a personal trainer who kicks my ass five days a week, but nothing could have prepared me for an excited Harlow on an art binge. She’s literally a speed demon, so fast that she’s a streak.
She flits and dances from sculpture to sculpture, filled with information about the artists and telling me all sorts of lurid details about their lives. It’s as though she’s come to life in the presence of such creative work. I can’t get enough of her like this. By supper time, though, she finally starts to tire. “I don’t want to leave, but I’m starving. Do you think we could get something at the concession stand?”
“We could. But there’s a picnic basket in the back of the roadster.”
She gasps. “Really?”
“Come on,” I take her hand and lead her back to the car before grabbing the basket from the trunk. We find a quiet place near the trees, lay out a blanket, and I pour two glasses of wine. “To spontaneity.”
She clinks her glass to mine and we drink.
“Absolutely. Thank you so much for today, Gray. This has been a wonderful surprise.”
“You always speak with such fondness about your art classes, and I thought you’d like it here. I’m happy to be right.”
She has such mischief in her chocolate brown eyes when she asks, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
“I took more than art history. In fact, I took some painting classes, and I’m actually pretty good at it.”
I’m surprised.
“What kind of painting?”
Harlow bites her lip and says, “Watercolor. I love the way they play with light and shadow and shape when you –”
I kiss her. I’ve held back this entire trip, and I can’t stop myself. After enjoying her lips and tongue for a long moment, I pull back, both of us breathing hard.
“When you talk about the things you love, you have such a look on
