Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(15)

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay,” Lowell said with a small smile. Then he squeezed her hand once more and climbed out.

“Not a date, not a date,” Harlow chanted to herself quietly as Lowell walked around his car to come to her side. He opened her door and held out a hand. Taking a deep breath, Harlow put her hand back in his and allowed him to help her up and out of the low seat.

He didn’t let go of her once she was standing next to him, though. He simply shut the car door and led her toward the bar.

Not a date, she told herself once more as Lowell smiled at her and pulled open the heavy wooden door.





Chapter Five

Not a date, Black chanted in his head. With every story that Harlow told him about her past dating experiences, he understood more and more why she was so reluctant to reenter the dating scene. But the more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know. He wanted to erase every single one of her bad experiences and replace them with pleasant ones.

But he couldn’t label anything they did as a date. No way. No how. Check.

“Black!” He heard someone call out as they entered The Pit.

Smiling, he lifted his chin at Meat. He saw Ball and Ro standing at the bar as well. He held out his arm, letting Harlow walk ahead of him. The second she started toward the bar, he placed his hand on the small of her back once more. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she’d kept out of reach back at the parking lot of her apartment. He’d never force himself on her, but he was going to do everything he could to show her that he was worthy of dating. That she could break her rule about going out—as long as it was with him.

It also hadn’t escaped his notice that when he did touch her, she frequently broke out in goose bumps. He liked that. Liked knowing that he affected her just as much as she did him.

He might not show it outwardly, but he was definitely affected.

Her vanilla scent was stronger tonight, as if she’d reapplied her lotion or perfume before he’d shown up. He loved her hair too. She’d left it down, and it brushed her shoulder blades as she walked, the purple tips enticing him. He wanted to touch it, see if it felt as soft as it looked. Wanted to see those dyed locks resting on his arm, his chest . . . his thighs as she knelt over him.

Taking a deep breath, Black forced his thoughts away from the dangerous route they were taking. Yes, he was attracted to Harlow, but they were nowhere close to being naked together.

“Hey, Black,” Meat said as they approached. “Let me guess, this is Harlow.”

“Yes. Harlow, I’d like you to meet my friends and teammates, Meat, Ball, and Ro.”

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“And what am I, chopped liver?” Dave asked from behind the bar.

Black smirked. “Sorry. And this is Dave. He’s in charge around here. When he’s not here, Noah works behind the bar.”

“That’s right, and don’t you forget it,” the gruff bartender said. His voice gentled when he asked, “What can I get you, young lady?”

“Oh, um, a Woodford and Coke?”

“Is that a question, or is that what you want?” Dave asked.

Black was about to lambaste the older man when Harlow laughed.

“Sorry. That’s what I want. I just wasn’t sure you’d have the bourbon.”

“Of course I have it. Jeez, you think this is a skank bar or somethin’?”

Harlow smiled but wisely didn’t answer. She reached for her purse. “Can I start a tab?”

Dave looked startled for a second, but then grinned at Black. “I don’t know, Black. Can she start a tab?”

“Shut it,” Black muttered to the bartender, then put his hand over Harlow’s. “I got this.”

Unsurprisingly, she glared up at him and opened her mouth to protest.

Black placed a finger over her lips and asked, “Remember what I said in the car? This is my world. Deal with it.”

She rolled her eyes, and when he dropped his hand, she said, “I guess your world is better than the world of the guy who told me he wanted a partner in life. I thought it was actually pretty nice that he wanted a partner—until he pulled out a list of all the bills he needed help paying and handed it to me.”

“No shit?” Meat asked.

“No shit,” Harlow confirmed. “I haven’t had the best luck with men.”

Black shook his head behind Harlow to tell his friends not to go there. Luckily, they understood and dropped the subject.

“I’ve got bills,” Black told her, “but I can definitely pay them on my own.”

“Me too,” she told him with a slight lift of her chin.

Black liked her independence. “Now that that’s covered, shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the back room.

“Oh, of course,” she said, reaching for the drink Dave had placed on the bar in front of them.

Black grabbed the beer Dave had given him without having to ask what he wanted and followed Harlow toward the back room. As they walked, Black told her, “Dave has been here forever. He works a lot. He was injured a bit ago, and I think that hurt his pride more than anything else. Noah took over while Dave was healing, and while Noah’s good, he isn’t Dave. The guy makes The Pit what it is. He’s got his quirks, but he’s the best bartender I’ve ever known.”