Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(61)

Black locked the front door behind them, and she said, “This is new.”

“What?”

“Leaving when it’s still light outside,” she said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s safe,” Black warned her.

As he expected, Harlow rolled her eyes. “I know. But it’s definitely not as spooky out here in the daytime.”

“Hey!” a voice called out, and Black stiffened. He turned, keeping Harlow behind him, to stare across the street.

All four of the men they were investigating were hanging out on benches outside the tattoo parlor. Elliott, Malcolm, Brody, and Brian were lounging there as if they didn’t have any other place to be, which they probably didn’t.

Black didn’t respond, simply stood there and stared at the foursome.

“Just saying a friendly neighborhood hello,” Elliott yelled.

“Yeah . . . because we’re all about making sure this neighborhood doesn’t have any outsiders,” Malcolm chimed in.

Black frowned, knowing they were trying to make a point, but not sure what it was.

“Come on,” Harlow urged, pulling on his shirt. “Let’s just go.”

He glared at the men for another heartbeat before putting an arm around Harlow’s waist and turning his back on the punks. He had no doubt that he’d hear it if they decided to try to ambush them. Besides, he didn’t think they had the balls to attack him. Not in broad daylight, at least.

Brian, otherwise known as Bear, yelled out a final parting shot. “Hey, bitch, if you want to fuck a real man, just let me know!”

Black clenched his teeth and debated grabbing the punk right then and there. He knew he could subdue all four of the men, even if they didn’t fight fair. He’d been a Navy SEAL and had learned a thing or two from his friends as well.

But crossing the street to deal with them meant leaving Harlow vulnerable. And he wouldn’t do that.

“Ignore him,” Harlow said softly, grabbing hold of the belt loop on the back of his jeans. “Please?”

“It’s okay,” he told her, refusing to turn around and give Brian what he wanted: attention. “I’m not going to kick his ass.”

“But you want to,” she joked.

“You have no idea. But you know what I want more?”

“What?” she asked, glancing at him as they walked briskly to the parking lot and his car.

“You in my apartment. In my kitchen. Smiling and happy. Relaxed.”

She smiled. “That sounds good.”

He clicked the locks on his car and held open the door for her. He made sure she was settled before shutting it and heading to his side. After he was seated, with the doors locked once more, he casually told her, “You should know that you aren’t cooking for me tonight.”

“What? Lowell, that was the deal!” she huffed.

He shrugged, not at all repentant. “If you think I’m going to invite you to my place, and then watch as you slave over my stove cooking dinner, you’re insane.”

“I was going to make beef bourguignon. It’s easy to set up, and I wouldn’t be slaving over anything.”

“Don’t care. The first time you’re in my space, you aren’t cooking for me. I bought some steaks and chicken, whichever you prefer. I’ll grill them up, then we can settle down and watch a movie or something. I want you relaxed, Harl.”

“Cooking is relaxing for me,” she insisted.

Black brought his hand up and smoothed a lock of hair out of her face. Then he fingered the purple end for a beat before meeting her eyes. “I know. But I’m being selfish. I know how you get when you cook. Everyone disappears, and you can’t concentrate on anything else. It’s adorable. But for tonight, I want you to concentrate on me. On us.”

“Oh,” she said. It was more breath of air than word. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Black echoed, then turned his attention to the road.

It took about fifteen minutes for him to drive to his apartment complex. He’d looked into buying a house recently, but he hated thinking about the upkeep that would take. He didn’t like lawn work and didn’t want to have to worry about the place being empty when he went on missions.

He pulled into the parking lot and heard Harlow suck in a breath. “Wow. This complex is gorgeous.”

She wasn’t wrong. There was a large pool in the middle of the buildings, which were strategically placed around the rolling hills of the area. “Wait until you see the view from my balcony,” Black told her. “It definitely doesn’t look anything like where we grew up.”

She giggled. “That’s for sure.”

“I had to wait an extra three months for the perfect unit to become available, but when I get to wake up to the sun shining on Pikes Peak, it makes it worthwhile.” Black pulled into his assigned parking space and made a mental note to contact the front office about getting a visitor pass for Harlow. He helped her out of his car and led the way toward the door to his building.

Just when they were about to enter, he heard another car pull in.

Looking in that direction out of habit, Black stopped in his tracks.

He would know that black Audi anywhere. Following it was a beat-up old pickup truck.

“Fuck,” Black swore under his breath.