The Harlowe Island Book 4: Falling for the Mason

I clutched the sheet to my chest, my back pressed firmly against the headboard. My heart pounded in my ears, a frantic rhythm of drumbeats against my skull. A silent scream clawed at the back of my throat, but I was too frozen in terror to get it past my lips.

His enormous cranium appeared at the side of my bed. Drool hung from his jowls, his meaty tongue dangling lazily from the side of his mouth. He tilted his head, pinning me with a curious stare.

I closed my eyes and pinched my arm.

The trapped scream broke free. A pathetic cry that was quickly silenced when he pounced, knocking the wind right out of me.

I gasped for air under the suffocating weight of the beast on top of me. He licked my face, leaving a trail of dog saliva from my neck to my forehead.

I made the mistake of opening my mouth to cry for help.

I’d always dreamed my first French kiss would be with a dreamy-eyed hunk. A tall, muscular hero, straight from the pages of a romance book.

Not a hairy, slobbery Saint Bernard.

“Meatloaf! Get down!”

The dog jumped off my bed, taking the sheet with him as he barreled toward his owner.

I sucked in deep gulps of air, my chest heaving as I replenished my lungs. The cool breeze from the ceiling fan passed over my body.

There were many benefits to sleeping naked.

Exposing myself to a sexy fireman wasn’t one of them.

I reached for my blanket, but it was on the floor with the sheet.

“Get out!” I yelled as I scrambled from my bed. My feet got tangled up in the twisted mess of bedding, sending me face-first onto the floor.

I screamed when a wet nose sniffed the crack of my bare ass.

“Meatloaf, come!”

I managed to get myself up and wrap the sheet around my body. “Why are you here, Drew?!” I cried.

“Your mother offered to take care of me.”

I stared at his half-naked body. All he had on was a pair of boxer shorts. He was covered in deep bruises.

A long incision snaked up his left side, the edges held together with staples. He was carrying some sort of machine hooked up to a tube coming out the side of his chest.

“What’s the matter, Kansas?”

I cleared my throat and lifted my head. He pinned me with a heated stare, his captivating sapphire eyes twinkling with mischief before he lowered his gaze.

“You look like you lost a fight,” I blurted out.

“You look like you’re cold,” he countered, his gaze lingering on my chest before an amused smirk spread across his face. “You’re all nipples, Kansas.”

“Shut up and get out of my bedroom.”

“That’s rude. I gave you a compliment.”

“I’m sure there was an insult hidden in it somewhere.”

“You would be mistaken.”

“Can you please get out of my bedroom and take that slobbering beast with you?”

“Meatloaf has feelings, you know.”

“He doesn’t know what I’m saying,” I scoffed.

“Maybe not, but he can tell by your body language and your tone that you don’t like him.”

“I don’t like any dogs. It’s nothing personal against him.”

“Why don’t you like dogs, Kansas?”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

“Naomi,” Mom called through the door. “Are you okay?”

Meatloaf barked and ran to the door, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

“Why is the dog in your bedroom?”

“That’s a very good question, Mother!”

Drew disappeared into the adjoining bathroom between my room and my sister’s old bedroom. The dog ran behind him before he closed the door.

“Just a minute, Mother.” I pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of track shorts that were sitting on my chair. “You can come in now.”

The door opened slowly. She poked her head inside, scanning the room before she entered. “Where did Meatloaf go?”

“Back to Myra’s room with his owner.”

“What was he doing in your bedroom?”

“The dog? Or the man you invited to stay without telling me?”

“Both.”

“Well, the dog apparently knows how to open doors, and he came into my room and attacked me, and his owner came to fetch him.”

“I didn’t have any clothes on.”

“Did Drew see you naked?” she whispered.

“Yes, Mother,” I snapped. “Thanks to your failure to inform me about the fact that you are now running a hospital, Drew saw me naked.”

“Oh dear.”

“I’m so sorry, Naomi. It was a last-minute decision.”

“Yes, but Silas wasn’t too pleased about it. I don’t know what your sister was thinking. She didn’t even discuss it with him. Drew thought that she had, and when he learned otherwise, he told her it wasn’t a good idea. That’s when I stepped in and suggested he stay here.”

“Why didn’t you text me and tell me he was in Myra’s room?”

“How long is he going to be here?” I whispered.

“At least six weeks, maybe longer.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“He’s staying in Myra’s room, Naomi,” she said with a weary sigh. “I don’t understand what the issue is.”

“There are several. I have to share a bathroom with him, for one. And look what happened just now. His dog knows how to open doors.”

“Don’t sleep naked.”

“I thought that room was getting turned into a nursery?”

“It is, but the baby will be sleeping in Levi and Milly’s room for a while, so there’s no hurry. Drew could be gone home before the baby is born. He isn’t due for a month.”

Drew opened the bathroom door just enough to poke his head into my room. “Sorry to interrupt, but could I get a hand, Wanetta?”

“See, Mother? He doesn’t even knock!”

“In my defense, I already saw you naked,” he said with a shrug. “And I thought it was safe to assume you had clothes on now, since your mother is in here.”

“What do you need, Drew?” Mom asked.

“I think this thing needs to be emptied. It’s pretty full, and I’m starting to get a little short of breath.”

“Naomi, text your sister and tell her to get her ass up here,” Mom ordered. “She was taught how to do this at the hospital.”

“I know how to do it,” Drew said. “But I can’t find the syringes.”

“I need to get ready for work,” I announced. “Can you please take your patient back to his room, Mother?”

“Naomi Pearl Harlowe! You were raised better than that. This young man needs help. And it’s Sunday. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Pearl?” Drew chuckled, wincing as he clutched his side.

I fired off a text to Audrey. My mother followed Drew through the bathroom, leaving both doors open.

“Lay down, Meatloaf,” Drew ordered.

“Naomi, can you look through that box of medical supplies and see if you can find a syringe?” Mom requested.

“Doesn’t he have a home care nurse to do this?”

“They don’t travel to private islands. He has to go into town to a clinic once a week. In order for Drew to stay here, he has to be independent with his care.”

“Audrey isn’t responding,” I said. “She hasn’t even read it.”

“Call her.”

I called. She didn’t pick up. “Straight to voicemail.”

“Unbelievable,” Mom muttered.

“She’s upset about her breakup with Silas,” Drew shared.

“She has nobody to blame for that but herself,” Mom said. “I’m going down to get her. This is unacceptable behavior.”

“I’ll go,” I offered.

“No. You keep looking for the syringes.”

“I’m not doing this, Mother!”

She ignored me and took off out the door.

“Wouldn’t you feel better staying at the hospital?” I asked as I rummaged through the supplies. “Nobody here has any medical training.”

“No. I couldn’t spend another day in that hospital. I just wanted to come home and be with my dog.”

“I bet you wish you could go to your place.”

“I do, but I know I can’t be alone.”

“I found the syringes,” I said.

He wiped the little port with an alcohol swab and attached the syringe. “I’m at an awkward angle. Can you do it?”

“I’m not a nurse, Drew.”

“Just pull the plunger back.”

I was so flustered by that point, I pulled back on the syringe with far more force than necessary. There was a pop as the plunger came out the end of the cylinder.

The contents sprayed everywhere, coating my face and hair in bodily fluids.

“I think you might’ve used a little too much force, Kansas,” Drew whispered.

My gut heaved violently, sending up the leftover lasagna I ate before I went to bed. Orangey-red vomit flew all over his boxers and bare thighs.

“I’m so sorry!” I cried. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed a roll of toilet tissue.

“I don’t think that’s gonna work,” he said.

I pulled a handful off the roll and started scrubbing at his shorts. “I can’t believe I puked on you.”

He stared toward the bathroom. “Where did Meatloaf go? Meatloaf!”

I glanced over my shoulder when I heard the dog coming. He had my bra in his mouth!

I really should’ve paid more attention to where I was wiping. My fingers grazed over his dick.

I yanked my hand away. Heat poured from my skin as the blood rushed to my face, my cheeks erupting into flames.

“Give that to Daddy, Meatloaf,” Drew ordered.

The dog complied, sitting at Drew’s feet with my ugly white padded bra dangling from his chops. Drew reached down and took it.

“Give me that,” I snapped.

He ignored me and turned it over to look at the tag. “Triple A. Isn’t that like the American version of CAA? Are you offering roadside assistance with your bra, Kansas?”

“You’re on your own,” I said coldly before I stormed into the bathroom. “Drain your own damn chest tube. I’m done being your nurse.”

“That’s a relief, ’cause you’re not a very good one. You puked on me and rubbed my dick.”

“Fuck you, Drew Wilson!”