Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(9)

“I don’t date,” she told him.

“Ever?”

“Well . . . for almost a year,” she explained.

Black didn’t respond, in the hopes she’d explain to fill the silence. It worked.

“Look. I like you—what I know of you, that is—but dates haven’t seemed to work out for me. On one of the last ones, the guy kept using the wrong name when he was talking to me. When I finally called him out on it, he admitted that he was still in love with his ex and he’d asked me out because I looked a lot like her.”

“Ouch,” Black said.

“Yeah. So anyway, that was around the four hundred and sixty-second bad date that I’ve had in my life, and I heard the world record for bad dates was four hundred and sixty-three, and that’s one record I don’t want.”

Black grinned. She was funny.

“It’s not funny,” she griped, but he could see her lips twitching. “It’s just that with my track record, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t trust myself when it comes to men. So I’m taking a break from the dating scene for a while.”

“Did you give yourself a timetable for this no-dating thing?” Black asked, curious now.

“Well, no. I figure I’ll know when it’s time to get back on the horse, so to speak.” She blushed and continued quickly. “I’m not opposed to getting married and having children someday, but with one bad date after another, I just got to the point where I was scared of even trying to find a normal man who wouldn’t ask me what brand of makeup I use because he wanted to try it himself.”

“Fine. So it’s not a date,” Black told her, resisting the urge to grin at her latest date gone wrong. He was relieved that she hadn’t put off dating forever, just for now. He could work with that. “We need to talk about the case and what’s going on. I need to lay some ground rules for you—and before you protest, they’re the same ones I’ll be telling Loretta about this afternoon, and ones all the residents need to follow. And we both need to eat, so we can just kill two birds with one stone.”

Black kept his face blank as Harlow scrutinized him.

After a moment, she asked, “What are your thoughts about taking food from my plate while we’re eating?”

He blinked. “What?”

Harlow sighed and shook her head. “Never mind. Fine.”

“I won’t need to eat off your plate because I’ll have my own meal,” Black told her. “But if you want to try something that I’ve ordered, I’m more than happy to share. And where do appetizers fall in that question of yours? I mean, they usually come on one plate—we’ll have to share.”

He was glad to see a slight grin on her face. He definitely didn’t like that Harlow had such a low opinion of dating. Especially because he’d decided while he was standing in the doorway watching her that he definitely wanted to take her out.

“Appetizers are meant to be shared,” she told him seriously. “But if you even come near my plate with your fork, I’m going to stand up and walk out.”

“My fork will stay far away from your plate,” Black vowed.

“Good,” she mumbled.

“But if you want a taste of something I’ve got, all you need to do is ask.” He couldn’t stop the innuendo from slipping out.

Harlow didn’t call him on it, but he knew she understood because she blushed. “I won’t,” she told him firmly.

“I’ll pick you up at your apartment at five thirty,” Black told her.

“No. I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Just tell me where it is,” she countered.

Black shook his head. “No. Nonnegotiable.”

“This isn’t a date,” Harlow insisted. “I’m perfectly able to meet you there.”

“Why?” Black asked, trying to understand her reasoning. “This is a business meeting. Surely the person who will be teaching you how to keep yourself safe can be trusted to pick you up.”

“It isn’t that,” she said, her gaze lowered.

“Then what is it? Help me understand.”

“I need to make sure I have transportation,” Harlow said.

Black clenched his teeth together. “I’m not going to do anything that will make you want to leave early,” he said.

“You don’t know that.”

“Look at me,” Black ordered.

Harlow sighed, but looked up.

“I’m not going to do anything that will make you want to, or need to, leave early,” he repeated. “I’m a gentleman, and I know how to treat a woman.” He willed her to believe him.

“This isn’t a date,” she said, more to herself than him.

“Not a date,” he agreed.

She nodded. “Fine. You can pick me up. But I swear to God, if this goes bad, I’m going to move to Alaska and become a nun.”

Black chuckled. “You do know that men outnumber the women up there, right? So if you’re going to relocate to get away from men, that’s not the state to move to.”

He was relieved when a smile formed on her lips.

“Do you always get what you want?” she asked.

Black shrugged and decided that maybe not answering was the better move at the moment. He pulled out his cell and asked, “What’s your number?” When she hesitated, he clarified quickly, “You know, just in case I’m running late or something comes up.”