Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(10)

She rattled it off for him, and Black added it to his contacts. He sent her a quick text and, when the phone in her pocket beeped, said, “I know I gave my number to you a while ago, but now you have it handy.”

He hid his grin from her as he stood and pushed his chair back under the table. He sort of understood her aversion to dating, but that wasn’t going to stop him from getting to know her better—and from her getting to know him in return. He just wouldn’t call it dating. He was determined to show her that not all guys were dicks. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was up against, but he’d hopefully learn more tonight.

Black hadn’t thought his talent for getting information out of people would ever apply to his personal life, not like this, but he was suddenly very glad he was an interrogation expert. The key was being subtle enough that Harlow wouldn’t catch on to what he was doing. He was looking forward to it. Looking forward to spending time with her.

She stood up, and Black gestured to the door of the kitchen. “I’ll walk you out.” There wasn’t a door leading outside from the kitchen. She had to walk through the main living area of the building and either exit out the front door or head to the back of the building and go out that way.

“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

“I know. But tell me honestly—would it make you feel better if I did? What if those guys are out there?”

She sighed. “All right, fine. Yes, it would make me feel better.”

Black didn’t dare smile. “Right.” Then he gestured toward the doorway again.

Harlow took the apron off over her head and hung it on a hook on the wall. Then she walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a flowered tote bag and a sweatshirt. She didn’t say anything as she preceded him through the doorway.

Black’s hand hovered near the small of her back, but he refrained from actually touching her, even though his fingers twitched with the need to do so. Harlow was full figured, and watching her backside sway as she walked was giving Black all sorts of X-rated ideas. He didn’t exactly have a type, but he couldn’t deny that he badly wanted to see Harlow stretched out on his bed, naked, smiling up at him.

“Lowell?”

His eyes snapped to hers, and he tried to look like he’d been paying attention the entire time instead of lusting after her.

She shook her head and grinned. “You didn’t hear me, did you?”

He shrugged. “Sorry, no.”

“Some Navy SEAL you are,” she joked.

“You been talking to Miss Loretta?” he asked. He didn’t care that she knew he’d been a SEAL. He didn’t even care if she knew about the Mountain Mercenaries. He hoped both of those would be pluses in her eyes rather than negatives.

“Maybe,” she said coyly.

“What did you say while I was so rudely not paying attention?” he asked.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming over today and for doing what you can to help.”

“You’re welcome,” he said easily. Then did what he’d been thinking about. He put his hand on the small of her back and gently guided her toward the door. “Now, let’s get you in your car so you can relax before our . . . meeting tonight.”

He’d almost slipped and called it a date. He made a mental note to never ever call any of their get-togethers “dates.”

She nodded and headed for the door. Black noted that she didn’t pull away from his touch, and he smiled. This was going to be fun. It had been a long time since he’d been the one to pursue a relationship. In today’s culture, women had no problem being up front with what they wanted, be it a date, a kiss, or just sex. It was refreshing to be the pursuer for once.

Harlow was cautious and unsure about being with him, and that made her even more refreshing. He wouldn’t push her past what she was comfortable with, but the anticipation of courting her, without her realizing it, was heady. And exciting.

Black turned his attention from the warm body he could feel through the shirt under his fingertips to his surroundings as they exited the building. He looked up and down the street and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

The shelter was located in the middle of several other three-story properties, making up one large block. They looked like they were probably all built around the same time. The two buildings on either side of the shelter were empty, and the one on the end of the block was currently being renovated. Black made a mental note to find out who it belonged to and what they were planning on doing with the space.

On the other side of the street, he spotted an antiques store, a tattoo parlor, and a pawnshop, along with two empty retail spaces with dusty, tinted windows.

An alley ran behind the buildings, allowing for deliveries from trucks. Black knew Loretta lived on the top floor in one of the smaller rooms and used another for an office, leaving the remaining private rooms for mothers to share with their kids. On the second floor, there was a large open room with five beds, where the women without children stayed. It wasn’t ideal long term, but it was safe, warm, dry, and free. All things that the women who stayed there needed.

Loretta could’ve packed more people into the shelter by putting bunk beds in the large shared room, but having eleven adults and anywhere from five to ten children living in the building at one time was hectic enough. Adding more women would stretch the shelter’s resources and just make things all the more chaotic, and the last thing everyone needed was more stress.