Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(75)

“I know,” Harlow soothed, not sure where he was going with this.

“One of the things I excel at is interrogations. I seem to have a knack for making people tell me things they wouldn’t normally tell another living soul.”

The words seemed to hang in the air around them—and suddenly his bruised knuckles made sense. She had no idea who he’d been interrogating today, but it was affecting him.

Harlow thought maybe she should be appalled. Should be disgusted that he’d resort to violence in order to get information. But she wasn’t.

“That’s why you want me to tell you where I am at all times, isn’t it? Because you found something out today?”

He nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I have no idea what happened or who you talked to, but it’s obvious that you heard something you didn’t like. I don’t want to get hurt, so I’ll try to remember to text you to let you know my plans.”

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, kissing her gently on the forehead.

“But . . . I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here.”

Lowell pulled back and narrowed his eyes at her. “Explain.”

“Well . . . like you, I didn’t have the best day. Loretta’s closing the shelter. She’s having money issues. I’m going to have to find a new job. I’ve found I really like working in a group-home situation, but if I can’t find anything else like that here, I might go home to Topeka. I can be closer to my parents and hopefully find a job there.”

“No. You can’t leave.”

Harlow stared at Lowell and struggled to keep her temper in check. “It’s not your decision, Lowell,” she said with only a hint of her aggravation showing.

He obviously heard it, because he shook his head. “I know. I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I mean . . . I don’t want you to go. I feel as if we haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of what we could have together.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to end it now before we get in too deep? It’ll hurt less.”

“I have a feeling it isn’t going to matter if you break up with me now, or a month from now, or a year,” Lowell said honestly.

Harlow’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you saying?” she asked.

Lowell shifted her on his lap until she was straddling him. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes as he said, “After I did what I did today, my one thought was to get to you. That only you could take away the blackness I felt in my soul. A part of me enjoyed terrorizing Brian today, Harlow. I liked seeing him flinch from me. I was sorry he cracked so easily. I wanted to spend more time hurting him, scaring him—just as he’d done to you. When everything was over and done, and the shame creeped in about the way I’d enjoyed interrogating him, the only thing I could think about was getting to you. I knew that seeing your smile, seeing you go about your business in the kitchen, would ground me,” he explained. “I need your goodness to balance out the badness inside me. It’s there. But I’ll never hurt you, Harl. Ever. Your good cancels out my bad.”

“You aren’t bad,” she protested, grabbing hold of his wrists and holding on for dear life.

He pressed his lips together, then said, “I am. Sometimes. But I fucking love that you don’t see it. No man does what I’ve done and doesn’t have some of the evil in the world soak into his soul. I’ve never wanted a relationship because . . . I think I didn’t want to taint a woman. But I don’t feel that with you.”

“You don’t?” His words confused her.

“No. Don’t you see? Somehow, you’ve got the ability, just by being yourself, to make that shit disappear inside me. One look at you and I feel calm. Centered. I need you, Harlow.”

She swallowed hard. She could tell he meant every word. He wasn’t just blowing smoke up her ass. She brought a hand up to the side of his face and palmed his cheek. When he closed his eyes and pressed his head into her hand, she was lost.

“You’ve got me,” she told him softly.

His eyes immediately opened. “Do I?”

She nodded.

“We need to talk about Loretta and your job . . . but right now, I can’t think about anything other than getting you naked and being inside you.”

She squirmed on his lap, his carnal words making her instantly wet. She’d dreamed about being with Lowell for a very long time. First it was the schoolgirl dreams of a teenager, but over the last month, they had grown into the needs of a mature woman. “Yes,” she said simply.

To his credit, he didn’t ask if she was sure. Didn’t shove his hand up her shirt. Instead, he kissed her solemnly, then helped her stand. When he was upright next to her, he took hold of her uninjured hand and twined their fingers. “Where’s your room?” he asked.

Without speaking, Harlow headed for the hallway off the main living area. She passed a half bath and a guest room and went straight for the door at the end. She opened it and waited for him to comment on her bedroom.

It was quintessential her. Messy, but comfortable. A bookcase was against one wall, full of books. Romances, recipe books, magazines, and the odd picture here and there. A dresser was next to it, a couple drawers half-open. Her bed wasn’t made, the dark-purple comforter hanging half-off the mattress and a slew of pillows stacked up at the head. She knew if he looked in her bathroom, he’d see her lotion bottles strewn all over the counter.