Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(53)

“Yes, I am. Now tell me about Lowell.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Harlow waffled.

“Harlow,” her mom chided. “This is the first time in years you’ve actually told me the name of one of your male friends. In fact, I think it’s the first time you’ve ever had a male friend. I’ve heard all about your awful first dates, and you told me you’ve sworn off men for the near future. Now you’re calling, telling me that you’ve been hanging out with a former classmate who you just happened to have a crush on, and you’re asking me how I knew your dad was it for me? Spill.”

“I just . . . I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“That he doesn’t like me as much as I like him. That I’ll lose my heart to him, and he’ll tell me he’s sorry but he only wants to be friends. He told me that he isn’t looking for a relationship. What if I get in too deep, and he hurts me?”

“There’s no guarantee of anything in life, Harlow,” her mom replied. “That man could’ve killed me and my friends. If that happened, you wouldn’t be here. You just have to take what life throws at you one day at a time.”

“But I’ve told him over and over that I don’t date.”

“And?”

“And he’s okay with that. We hang out, but I don’t know how to change things, or if I should even try.”

“You hang out?”

“Yeah. Today we went to the cutest little tourist town and shopped. The other day, he took me on this bike ride down the road that leads to the top of Pikes Peak. He hangs out with me at the shelter when I’m working, and I’m going to his place soon to make him dinner, to thank him for helping out with the residents and the self-defense class he gave to everyone for free.”

“Honey,” her mom said gently, then paused.

“What?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about trying to change the status quo between you and this young man.”

“Why?”

“You aren’t stupid. I don’t know why you can’t see this,” her mom said with a laugh. “Honey, you’re already dating him.”

Harlow shook her head in denial. “No we aren’t. He agreed to no dating.” But the second the words left her mouth, she realized how stupid they sounded. She smacked herself in the forehead.

“I hope that sound was you realizing what’s going on,” her mom said dryly.

“Oh my God. I’ve been dating him without realizing it,” she said.

“Ding ding ding!” her mom sang. “Sounds to me like you’ve got a real gentleman on your hands. It’s about time. I didn’t like hearing about those other losers you went out with.”

Harlow almost choked on her laughter. “Should I say something? Should I let him know I know?”

“Just let things happen,” her mom instructed. “You don’t need to put a label on everything. You’ve always been like that, honey. Just enjoy spending time with him. Okay?”

“I’ll try.” Harlow’s mind was still whirling with the realization that she and Lowell Lockard were dating.

“Now, want to tell me why you think the residents need self-defense lessons? Are you safe?”

Harlow spent the next ten minutes or so telling her mom about what was going on with the shelter, at least as much as she knew, which wasn’t much. She reassured her that Lowell and his friends were looking into it and she was in good hands. She finished by saying, “You know how you said that you felt safe with Daddy? That’s how I feel when I’m with Lowell.”

“Good. I have a feeling when you really need him, he’ll be there for you. Unlike those other asshats you went out with.”

“Mom!” Harlow scolded.

She just laughed. “I love you, honey. I’m glad this job is working out for you. I know you weren’t happy at the hotel in Seattle.”

“I love working there,” Harlow reassured her mom. “The kids really tug at my heartstrings. Will you say hi to Daddy for me?”

“Of course. I expect you to call me more often to tell me about your young man.”

“He’s not mine, Mom.”

“Hmmm.”

Harlow knew better than to continue to argue with her mom. Once her mind was made up about something, it was made up. “I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Be safe.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Harlow hung up the phone and sighed. She wasn’t sure whether she should feel better after talking to her mom or freaked out by the revelations she’d had.

Not giving herself time to think about it, she picked up her phone again, surfed the web for the perfect picture, then edited it. The picture was taken from the top of the Manitou Incline, looking down the steep steps. She drew a stick figure at the top with its arms in the air, à la Rocky Balboa. She clicked on Lowell’s name and attached the picture with a smiley face emoji. She typed out the words, Look! I made it to the top! Then she sent it with only a small twinge of doubt.

Biting her lip, she waited for a moment and then saw the three dots letting her know he was typing out a response. Within seconds, her phone vibrated.