Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(22)

Her phone was sitting on the edge of the counter. Harlow didn’t remember how it had gotten there, but she picked it up—and the first thing she saw was a text from Lowell.

Lowell: Call me when you get up so I know you’re okay.

She stared at the note for a long moment before closing her eyes and leaning over the counter. “You are not dating Lowell Lockard,” Harlow muttered before reaching for her toothbrush. No matter how much you might want to.



Harlow: I’m up and alive. :)

Black stared at Harlow’s text in relief. He was sitting in his office at the range and had been debating with himself on whether or not to call her. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but on the other hand, he was truly worried about her. She’d had way too much to drink the night before, and it was mostly his fault. He’d thought about staying the night to make sure she didn’t get sick and choke, but in the end decided that might be pushing his luck.

He’d thought that having a few drinks would loosen her up and make it easier for her to tell him about the dates in her past. He’d been right, it had made it easier, but he’d let it go on too long. He should’ve cut off their games at five. But she’d convinced him she was fine, and he’d believed her.

She hadn’t been fine. She’d been trashed and just good at hiding it. He appreciated the fact that she didn’t get mean or emotional when she drank, but he regretted not making sure she’d eaten before taking her to The Pit. That had been a mistake, and one he wouldn’t make again.

Shaking his head, Black huffed out a long breath. He understood Harlow a lot better now. He couldn’t blame her for swearing off dating. If he’d had the kind of luck she’d had, he would’ve done the same. The way her dates had treated her infuriated him. Jacking off in her house? Carrying around date-rape drugs? Proposing on the first night they’d met? Man, she’d certainly come into contact with some real losers. He’d made a mental note of the men’s names and had already passed them to Meat for investigation. He almost hoped one of her past dates was behind everything that was going on; it would give him an excuse to beat the shit out of him.

Interestingly enough, nothing that happened the night before had turned Black off from wanting to get to know her better. It was exactly the opposite. He liked that she wasn’t willing to settle. That she knew her own worth. It made being with her a challenge, but Black was up for it.

The phone on his desk rang, and he leaned over to answer it. “Black’s Gun Range.”

“It’s Rex,” the digitally altered voice on the other end of the phone said.

Black was well used to the fact that Rex disguised his voice. When Black had first started working for the Mountain Mercenaries, he’d been beyond curious about their elusive boss, but now he took the man’s eccentricities in stride. “Rex,” he replied in greeting.

“Heard you had an interesting night,” Rex said.

Black smiled. Rex didn’t miss much. Especially when the events took place in The Pit. Black assumed he had the place wired, but it didn’t bother him in the least. “Meat talk to you?” he asked his boss.

“Yeah. His research’s underway. And you should also know there’s nothing else in the wings at the moment.”

Black understood and appreciated what Rex meant. He was informing him there weren’t any cases looming for the Mountain Mercenaries. That didn’t mean one couldn’t pop up without warning, but at the moment, he was free to concentrate on Harlow and the women’s shelter.

“Good. Do you have any new information for me?”

“Not yet. But I don’t like what I’ve heard from Meat.”

“Me either. Especially now that I’ve gotten to know Harlow a little more.”

“You’ve known her for one day,” Rex said dryly.

“It’s been more than a day, but in that time, I’ve gotten to know her fairly well,” Black insisted.

Rex chuckled. “Right, I’ve forgotten how you boys operate.”

“It isn’t like that,” Black said irritably.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s not,” he insisted. “Look, I know the others are happy being tied down, but that’s not me. I’m not necessarily looking for a wife right now.”

“What are you looking for?” Rex asked perceptively. A little too perceptively.

“I wouldn’t mind dating Harlow. She’s funny, interesting, and smart,” Black said. “I’m not opposed to being in a relationship.”

“Hmmm.”

“You don’t believe me?” Black asked.

“It’s not that. But I know you, Black. I know you’ve been restless lately. I get wanting to show Harlow that not all men are douchebags, and I agree that maybe at this point, you haven’t thought past dating her. But you’re not normally as protective of anyone as you seem to be with Miss Reese. I’m not judging you. If all you want is to get your rocks off, have at it. But don’t talk yourself out of something else you might really want. If you do, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

There was more meaning behind Rex’s words, but Black was too annoyed by his insightfulness to think about it. “She’s not interested in dating right now.”

“And yet the two of you stayed at The Pit until two in the morning, laughing, talking, and playing pool. She got drunk, and you stayed sober to make sure she was safe. Then you took her home and, I’m assuming, got her settled and left her safe and sound in her bed. Don’t bullshit me, Black. I wasn’t born yesterday. Call it what you want, but last night was a date. Harlow was as into you as you were her.”