Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(21)

It wasn’t until she’d gone to bed later that night that she’d found out he hadn’t been in her bathroom at all. He’d jacked off all over a stuffed rabbit that had been on her bed at the time.

Lowell hadn’t laughed at her bad luck. He hadn’t told her she was being silly for taking a break from dating. In fact, he’d been pissed on her behalf, especially about the guy who had ejaculated on her bed. He’d demanded to know if she’d pressed charges, and when she admitted she hadn’t, had just told the guy off in no uncertain terms the next time he’d called, Lowell still hadn’t been happy. He’d mumbled something about looking up that man first to make sure he wasn’t in the area, harassing her and the residents at the shelter.

And, as if telling Lowell all her deep, dark horror stories about dating wasn’t embarrassing enough, she’d gotten so drunk, she hadn’t been able to walk to the car on her own. He’d had to put his arm around her to keep her upright. She remembered their conversation on the way to his car in the parking lot with complete clarity.

“I’m sorry I got so drunk.”

“It’s fine, Harl.”

“I never do this. Ever. Especially around a guy.”

“I’m glad you trust me enough to let go.”

“I do, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Trust you.”

“Good. Because I won’t hurt you, Harlow. I’m not like those douchebags you’ve dated.”

“I know you aren’t. I feel like I’ve known you forever, even though I haven’t seen you in years. This is the best nondate I’ve ever had.”

“Me too.”

“And I would’ve won if we played best out of nine.”

He turned her then so they were face to face and belly to belly. “I have no doubt you would’ve.”

Harlow thought he was going to kiss her, but instead, he turned her and helped her into his car, even leaned over and buckled her seat belt before shutting her door and walking around to the driver’s side.

When he sat down, Harlow said, “You have a nice ass.”

“Thanks. Yours isn’t so bad either.”

She smiled at him, then closed her eyes as he started the car. The world spun drunkenly as he drove her home, but Harlow didn’t care. She felt protected and had no doubts whatsoever that Lowell would get her home safe and sound.

Wincing at how much she’d told him, Harlow opened her eyes and saw the pills and water once more. She remembered Lowell helping her into her apartment and helping her take off her jeans.

“Take off your jeans, Harl.”

“Are we having nondate sex?”

“No, baby. You’re drunk as hell, and I’d never take advantage of you like that. I’m trying to make sure you’re comfortable so you can sleep.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Her hands fumbled so much he finally brushed them away and eased her onto the bed. He then unbuttoned her pants himself. He drew down the zipper before going to stand at the end of the mattress.

“Raise your hips, baby.”

She did, and he pulled her jeans down her legs. “Take your bra off now, Harlow.”

Without thought, she sat up and reached behind her to unhook the clasp. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to undo it. She reached into one sleeve of her T-shirt and pulled the strap down, then did the same on the other side. She pulled the bra out of her shirt through the armhole.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing you do that. Now lie back.”

Harlow did as ordered, feeling the room spinning crazily around her.

“Here, take these and drink this.”

She opened her eyes to see Lowell sitting on the edge of her mattress holding a bottle of water and two small white pills in his hand. Without thinking about what he was giving her, she sat back up and took the pills. Lowell put a hand behind her back to support and hold her steady as she finished the entire bottle he’d brought for her.

He eased her back to the bed, leaned down, and kissed her forehead.

“I put another bottle of water by your bed. Drink it when you get up in the morning . . . or later this morning, I guess is more appropriate. Take the pills when you get up too.”

“Mmm, ’kay.”

That was the last thing Harlow remembered. She must’ve fallen asleep. She looked down at herself and saw that she was still wearing the T-shirt she’d put on before Lowell had shown up at her apartment the night before. She could see her bra on the floor by the bed, and her jeans were lying at the end of the mattress.

She was as embarrassed as could be about getting drunk in the first place, but for some reason, she wasn’t mortified about Lowell helping her in her apartment. He’d been so matter-of-fact about it. He hadn’t made her feel bad about being drunk, and he didn’t seem put out by having to help her.

Harlow had a momentary pang of regret about giving up on dating. If she was ever tempted to break her self-imposed ban, it would be with Lowell Lockard. But the second she decided to go out with him, he’d likely do something that would make her regret it.

So no. No matter how nice he’d been last night—er, this morning—she’d just have to settle for being friends.

Sitting up and groaning at the pain that flashed through her head, Harlow picked up the pills and uncapped the bottle of water. She swallowed the painkillers and shuffled to the bathroom, sipping at the water the entire way.