Chapters 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 are already on Pa tr eon
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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
"Is the car everything you wanted?" she asked softly.
"I'm a man," Harry said. "You know what I want. That's why you sent me that picture. Not that I'm complaining."
Hermione giggled and patted his thigh. "You are certainly a man. And since you're single now, you can freely play around with other women," she said.
Although Harry enjoyed Hermione's interest, he was still concerned about her relationship with his ex-wife.
"Aren't you worried about how Fleur would react if she knew you were coming on to me?" he asked.
"Fleur made it clear that you're her ex-husband and you can date whoever you want," Hermione said, her voice full of conviction.
Her words dispelled any lingering doubts Harry had. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, her eyes cunning and teasing. He exhaled slowly as her hand crept higher on his leg, her toe teasingly brushing the head of his cock. A quick glance at Hermione confirmed that she knew exactly what she was doing.
As they continued along the coastal road, Hermione pointed out a restaurant ahead. "That's the place I mentioned. Let's stop there. I promise it's wonderful."
The diner looked unassuming, like all the other spots along the coastal road. A neon sign flickered, inviting them inside. Harry pulled into the mostly empty parking lot. He looked around skeptically, wondering what attracted Hermione to this place.
She must have sensed his hesitation because she squeezed his thigh reassuringly. "Trust me," she whispered.
Harry followed Hermione inside. The warm smell of coffee and home-cooked food greeted them as they entered the nearly empty restaurant. A waitress approached them, instantly recognizing Hermione.
"Ms. Granger! So good to see you again."
"Hello, darling," Hermione replied warmly, kissing the waitress on both cheeks.
"Please, come to your booth," the waitress said, leading them through the quiet space.
The waitress was an extraordinarily pretty redhead. As they walked past, Harry noticed another waitress with blonde pigtails who looked like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. She waved at Hermione, and he smiled in acknowledgment. The cook behind the counter nodded at him as he passed by, looking like a male model.
This diner looks more like a film set than a real business, Harry thought.
They settled into a cozy booth near an old-fashioned jukebox, its soft glow lighting the dim space. Hermione sat on the same side of the booth as Harry, pressing herself against him.
"Is she a friend of yours?" Harry asked Hermione after the waitress left them with menus.
"A sort of friend," Hermione replied mysteriously. "Would you like to get to know her?"
"I guess so. She seems very friendly."
"She's very friendly. And very talented." Hermione's tone let him know there was more to it than he understood. Her Cheshire cat smile made his pulse quicken.
"Hermione, what is this place?"
"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.
"Every employee here looks like a model or a porn star. It seems like everyone knows you too. And this menu? $65 for pancakes? No wonder the place is almost empty."
"This diner serves a select clientele," Hermione explained.
"Clientele? I've never heard of a diner having 'clientele' instead of customers."
Hermione laughed and wrapped an arm around him. Under the table, her foot stroked his leg.
"Let's just order some food," she whispered. "The chef here is excellent."
The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Hermione and Harry perused their menus, the laminated pages impeccably clean. The prices listed were outrageous. It seemed like a deliberate attempt to keep the general public out.
"Have you ever tried a Monte Cristo sandwich?" Hermione asked. "It's an interesting mix of flavors."
"I can't say I have," Harry replied, intrigued. "But if you recommend it, I'll give it a try."
"Trust me, Harry, you won't be disappointed."
"Alright then, Monte Cristo it is," he said, smiling.
The redheaded waitress returned and took their order. The hungry way she looked at him made him feel like he was one of the items on the menu.
"The Monte Cristo sandwich is an excellent choice," she said. "You have good taste."
"Hermione recommended it," he admitted.
"Ms. Granger has impeccable taste. In food... and other things."
The waitress walked away, her wide hips swaying, leaving a light scent of her perfume in the air.
"I swear she wasn't wearing that perfume when we came in," Harry remarked. "She must have put it on after seating us."
"Probably," Hermione said nonchalantly. "The service here is exceptional. That's why I love dining here. Well, really at any restaurant. But especially this one."
"I never took you for someone who enjoys diners," Harry said. "With your expensive tastes and lifestyle, I expected you'd prefer more upscale dining establishments."
"I grew up poor, Harry. Despite my current wealth, I still appreciate the simpler things in life. And besides..." She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "This diner holds special memories for me."
Before he could ask more questions, Hermione slid out of the booth and gestured for him to follow.
"Let's pick some songs to set the mood," Hermione suggested, standing by the vintage jukebox.
"Haven't seen one of these in ages," Harry said, joining her.
Their fingers brushed the buttons as they browsed the selection. The jukebox was filled with genuine vinyl records, with titles ranging from the '50s to the '70s.
"Here's one I like," Hermione said, pressing a button decisively.
The jukebox sprang to life, filling the diner with the sultry melody of classic R .
"Good choice," Harry murmured.
"Let's dance," Hermione said.
"Here? In the diner?" Harry asked, momentarily taken aback by her suggestion.
"Why not?" she replied, extending her hand toward him. "Life is too short to miss out on simple pleasures."
Hermione was right. Life was about simple pleasures. Dancing with a beautiful woman wasn't something to pass up. Gabrielle had taught Harry not to let such moments slip by. You never knew where they might lead.
Harry took Hermione's hand, her warmth making him smile. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, cupping her firm ass as she pressed against him.
As the music swirled around them, Hermione's body fit perfectly against his, her curves melding with him like pieces of a puzzle. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat quicken under her touch.
"Harry," she whispered, her breath warm on his skin, "I've always wanted to be held by you like this."
Despite everything that had happened, her confession still surprised him. Hermione had always been warm but distant, never showing any signs of romantic interest.
"Really?" he asked. "But you've always been so reserved."
"I had to be," she said sadly, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "You were my best friend's husband. I couldn't tell Fleur how much I wanted you. But it tormented me for years."
"I never knew."
"I've always been good at being discreet," Hermione sighed, her dark eyes locking onto his. "But now that you're single? I think it's time to be honest about my feelings."
"Hermione," he began, but before he could say more, she leaned in and captured his lips with hers, her kiss soft, warm, and sweet.
While Harry wanted to lose himself in the moment, he hesitated. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—the thrill of Hermione's touch clashing with the fear of jeopardizing his budding relationship with Gabrielle and the guilt of betraying Fleur's friendship.
He gently pulled away from Hermione's kiss, his breath uneven as he tried to find the right words.
"Hermione, you're an incredibly attractive woman," he said softly. "But I can't do this. I don't want to hurt your relationship with Fleur. You've always been our friend, and now I'm on good terms with her. I don't want to ruin that."
Gabrielle is another complication altogether, he reminded himself. But one problem at a time.
"Sometimes we have to take risks to find happiness," Hermione said gently, her eyes searching his. "Don't let fear stop you from experiencing something wonderful."
"It's not fear," he protested. "It's out of respect for Fleur. We've been very civilized throughout the divorce process. I want to make sure it stays that way."
Hermione's eyes were wide and glistening. Her lips quivered as if holding back words. Harry furrowed his brow, wondering what internal conflict Hermione was battling.
"Harry," she finally said, "do you really believe your divorce from Fleur was civil and amicable?"
"Of course, I do," he said firmly. "I understand that Fleur was unhappy in our marriage and needed to leave to grow as a person. At least, that's what she told me. And I believe her."
He hesitated for a moment before continuing. He thought back to the long conversations with his mirror and all the sleepless nights, the pain of ending something that once meant so much.
"It hurt like hell, but I still care about her," he said. "I want her to be happy. She was fair during the divorce process, never trying to take more than she was entitled to, even with the money from my deal in Thailand. I owe her the respect of not sleeping with her best friend."
But what about her younger sister?
Harry pushed the thought away. Right now, he knew he had to focus on the woman in his arms, not the one waiting for him at The Pearl.
Hermione's gaze was steady as she listened intently, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on his chest as she leaned against the jukebox. The antique machine continued to play its sultry melody in the background, its lights casting neon streaks across the ceiling.
"Sometimes what we think we know about others, even those closest to us, isn't the whole truth. Life is messy and complicated, and people make mistakes."
"I know," Harry said with a smile. "I've made plenty of mistakes in my life."
"That's not what I meant," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You have such good intentions. You always think the best of people... even when they don't deserve it."
Chapters 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 are already on Pa tr eon
If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit
Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)