Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(24)

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

He nodded and smiled at her, and Harlow almost melted into a puddle right there in the kitchen.

“You look good. Me and Arrow will be here for a while putting up external cameras. Would you be willing to be our guinea pig once they’re up? Help us make sure they’re all aimed in the right directions and stuff?”

“Of course.”

“Great. I’ll be back later then.”

Then he reached up and fingered a lock of her hair that had come down from the bun she’d thrown it in before starting the dinner prep. Without another word, he smiled even wider, then left.

After he was gone, Harlow couldn’t stop thinking about his actions. About how he’d so nonchalantly kissed her. Fingered her hair as if he did it every day. She went over it again and again in her head, until she finally had to scold herself for analyzing it to death.

Lowell knew where she stood about dating. In her experience, men didn’t go out of their way to be just friends with women. Especially men who looked like Lowell.

She’d stalked him on the internet the night before. She hadn’t been able to find much, but what she did find impressed her. Lowell was a highly decorated Navy veteran, and she understood that what little she could find online was probably only the tip of the iceberg when it came to his accolades. Navy SEALs did a lot of top-secret operations, so it was likely he had a lot of medals and commendations under his bed, so to speak.

There were several articles in the local paper about him and the others volunteering time and money for charities that helped at-risk women, sick children, and those generally down on their luck. He occasionally went to the high school and offered free self-defense classes for the girls, and was even named Volunteer of the Year at the local Boys & Girls Club one year.

Yes, Lowell Lockard was a good man. And there was no reason for him to expend energy on her when she’d flat-out told him she wouldn’t date. She was a chef, for God’s sake. She spent her days in the kitchen, and enjoyed it. She pictured him with someone who could go hiking for hours and days, who loved camping, kayaking, white-water rafting, and other outdoor sports. She didn’t mind being outside and enjoying the fresh air and views, but she hated bugs and sweating. Two things she had a feeling didn’t faze Lowell in the least.

Not only that, but he was one hundred percent different from the men she’d attempted to date in the past. He was simply out of her league. Harlow knew it, and she had a feeling he knew it too.

Taking a deep breath and putting him out of her mind, she turned her attention back to the meal she was making. Roasted chicken with asiago polenta and truffled mushrooms. Most of the kids wouldn’t eat the mushrooms, but she included them for variety anyway. Not to mention they perfectly complemented the simply flavored chicken. She was going to add a salad and, to top it off, chocolate brownies with butterscotch drizzle for dessert.

She could hear Lowell and his friend talking outside as they installed the cameras. Hearing them, knowing they were close, soothed her. For the first time in at least a month at the shelter, Harlow relaxed completely. No one would dare harass any of the residents, or her, when the men were outside working.

Harlow knew she’d been tense over the last few weeks. Cooking and baking usually relaxed her, but lately, every time she got near the shelter, her entire body tensed up.

She’d actually been very close to quitting when she’d decided to call Lowell instead. She didn’t want to leave, but the harassment was stressing her out and making her extremely jumpy. She hadn’t said anything to Loretta and felt horrible about even thinking about leaving. The older woman had taken a chance on hiring her, since the job was way different from the usual restaurant jobs she’d had in the past, and Harlow appreciated it more than she could say.

She also hated the idea of leaving the kids. They touched her in a way no one else could. She’d always wanted a family. But with the way her life was going, it looked like that would probably never happen. Especially since she’d put the moratorium on dating.

“It smells good in here.”

The deep male voice once again scared the shit out of her. Harlow jerked, then cried out in pain when the knife she’d been rinsing sliced her finger.

“Damn it, Arrow! I told you to make some noise before you came in here,” Lowell bit out as he pushed his friend aside and strode toward her.

Harlow could only stare at Lowell as he approached. He looked amazing. Physical labor agreed with him. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead and neck, and the white T-shirt he was wearing was streaked with dirt. His black hair was mussed, and even the five o’clock shadow on his jaw already seemed darker.

“Let me see, Harl,” he said in a calm voice, taking hold of her hand and shutting off the water in the sink.

Harlow let him examine her hand, and she swallowed hard as his brow furrowed when he saw the cut.

“Sorry,” Arrow said as he came closer and stood on her other side. “I thought you heard me clear my throat.”

Harlow shook her head. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Lowell told her. “It doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches. Do you have a first-aid kit around here?”

“Of course,” Harlow told him. She gestured to a cabinet on the other side of the room. “Over there.”