Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(32)

But walking by his side, knowing the others thought he was a catch, made her feel . . . good. He wasn’t even with her, and she was proud to be near him. It was crazy.

Despite knowing if she continued to spend time with him, she’d get in deeper and deeper over her head, Harlow wasn’t sure what to do about it. She liked being with Lowell. He was funny and caring, and he made her feel as if she were the only person in the world when he was talking to her. She’d never felt that way with a man before. Ever.

Deciding to just go with the flow—he knew she didn’t want to date, so she didn’t have to worry about that—Harlow nodded at the women as she passed. She’d just have to control her crush on the man. Nothing would come of it because they weren’t dating, so her heart would be safe. She’d just be his friend, and when whatever was happening between them was over, he’d move on and find someone he could spend the rest of his life with.

Lowell put his hand on her lower back as she unlocked the dead bolt of the door. She loved when he did that. The weight of his hand never failed to make her feel safe. They walked out, and she relocked the door. Then they walked side by side, with Lowell by the curb, to the parking lot.

Looking around, Harlow didn’t see anyone. The street was deserted. The shops across from the shelter were closed and dark. There were lights in the parking lot, but they weren’t all that bright, and she’d always felt vulnerable there, especially at night or early in the morning before the sun came up. The abandoned gas station across the street also creeped her out. It was dark, and she always imagined it would be easy for someone to lie in wait to attack an unsuspecting person, like her.

“Thanks for walking me to my car,” she told Lowell when she clicked her door locks.

“You’re welcome. What time are you getting here in the morning?”

Harlow bit her lip. “Well, I usually try to get here around five. That gives me time to prepare breakfast and get some fresh bread or biscuits baking before everyone gets up and going. Edward’s been bringing doughnuts and stuff, but I like to offer a variety of things for everyone to choose from.”

“Then I’ll see you here around five.”

“That’s early,” she told him.

He grinned. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I usually get up around four thirty to work out. I’ll just sleep in a bit, meet you here, then go home and start my run.”

“Really? You get up at four thirty every morning?” she asked.

“Yup. Guess all those morning workouts in the Navy stuck with me. I usually can’t sleep past six, even when I go to bed late. You?”

“Me what?” she asked.

“Are you a morning person?”

“Well, yeah. But I’m not getting up to work out . . . obviously.” Harlow gestured at herself as she said the last part.

“Why obviously?”

“Duh, Lowell. Look at me. Do I look like I work out?”

He moved so fast, she didn’t see him coming until he was right in front of her, his hips against her own, pressing her back against her Mustang. “You look like warm nights and beautiful sunrises.”

Harlow stared up at him. “I don’t know what that means,” she whispered.

“It means whatever you’re doing, just keep on doing it,” he said in a low, husky voice.

Harlow didn’t know where to put her hands, so she rested them lightly on his chest. “Oh. Okay.”

“And you should know—not tomorrow, but the day after—I’m picking you up at your apartment at four in the morning. Is that going to be an issue?”

Harlow widened her eyes in shock. “Four? Why so early?”

“It’s a surprise, remember?” he said.

“I’m not sure about this. Nothing’s open that early.”

“Trust me.”

“I do, it’s just . . .” She stopped herself from saying anything else and shook her head. “Fine. At least I know it’s not a date, because no one goes on a date at four in the freaking morning.”

He grinned at her and, ignoring her commentary, said, “Text me when you get home.” Then he reached around her for the handle of the car door.

“Why?”

“So I can make sure you got there all right.”

She wrinkled her nose and asked, “You aren’t going to follow me home? I mean, you’re being all protective and stuff, so I just assumed.”

Lowell stared down at her for a long moment before grinning again. “Oh, I’m following you home. I just wasn’t going to tell you.”

Harlow rolled her eyes, not sure if he was kidding or not. “Whatever. Go home, Lowell. You’ve done your bodyguard duty for the night.”

“I’ll see you in the morning. Drive safe,” he said softly. He closed the door behind her and headed for his Mazda.

Don’t read anything into his behavior, Harlow warned herself. He was a SEAL. He rescues women for a living. Just because he’s going to ignore your demand and follow you home anyway doesn’t mean he wants anything more. Besides, you don’t date . . . remember?

Knowing she was losing the battle to keep herself emotionally separated from Lowell, Harlow drove home, watching his headlights in her rearview mirror . . . and feeling comforted and safe the entire way.