Defending Harlow (Mountain Mercenaries #4)(7)



Sighing, she began to wipe down the counter as she mentally went over the dinner menu. It was Zoe’s turn to cook tonight, and she wanted to make sure the other woman had all the ingredients to make lasagna.





Chapter Three

Black leaned against the doorframe and watched Harlow putter around the large kitchen. It was beside the big living room, and one of the double doors stood open. The sound of cars driving up and down the road in front of the building was slight and didn’t detract from the hominess of the space. The glow from the window over the sink made her blonde hair seem even lighter.

Loretta had greeted Black when he’d arrived and thanked him for coming. She’d informed him she’d be in her office, ready to answer any questions he had, but first he could go and greet Harlow.

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He’d always liked Loretta. She wasn’t very subtle, but that was part of her charm.

His attention was brought back to Harlow when she accidentally bumped into the corner of a counter, let out a soft ouch, and rubbed her hip.

There was something about her that made him feel . . . calm. And that was a big deal, because most of the time Black was anything but calm. He was constantly scanning his immediate surroundings for threats, a throwback to his time as a Navy SEAL. But it was more than that. Even when he was alone in his apartment, he had a hard time relaxing. TV bored him. He hardly ever made it all the way through a movie before thinking of something else he should be doing. It took him forever to read a book because he could only get through a chapter or so before getting restless.

But he realized that he could stand there and watch Harlow for hours.

She wasn’t doing anything super interesting—cleaning the kitchen, taking a sheet of biscuits out of the oven and muttering at them under her breath—but she fascinated him. She was constantly in motion, and at the moment, he could tell she was nervous about something.

The men harassing her? Whatever she was cooking? Him? He didn’t know.

How long he’d been standing there watching her, Black wasn’t sure, but it was inevitable that eventually she’d spot him.

But he didn’t expect her eyes to widen, a gasp to escape her mouth, and Harlow to stumble backward, tripping over her feet in the process.

She fell to the floor, and Black lost sight of her for a split second.

He immediately strode across the room and around the island and saw her sitting on the floor, wincing. Holding his hand out to her, he said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She shook her head, then reached out and grasped his hand in hers, allowing him to help her stand.

Several impressions hit Black at once.

First was how soft and smooth her hand was. Second was how good she smelled—like vanilla. Third was that, once standing, they were eye to eye.

He was used to being the short one in his group of friends, but the last few women he’d dated had been petite. He’d thought shorter women were his speed, but he liked being able to look into Harlow’s dark-blue eyes.

At the moment, it was obvious she was embarrassed. A light-pink hue washed over her cheeks, but she gamely smiled at him. “I’d like to say I’m usually not so clumsy, but I’d be lying.”

Black smiled back at her and reluctantly dropped her hand. “I remember that about you.”

The pink in her cheeks got darker. “I guess I haven’t grown out of it after all these years.”

“It’s endearing.”

Harlow rolled her eyes. “It’s endearing in a six-year-old. In a grown woman, it’s just embarrassing,” she countered.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Black apologized again, fascinated by the play of emotions on her face. He was an expert interrogator, largely because of his skill in reading body language and nonverbal body cues. At the moment, Harlow was an open book.

She waved off his apology. “No, it’s my fault. I knew you were on your way. I was distracted, thinking about tonight’s dinner. Not to mention I’ve been a bit jumpy lately.”

Black shook his head. “It was my fault,” he insisted. “I forget to make noise when I’m around civilians sometimes. I learned in the Navy to always walk absolutely silently. It’s a hard habit to break.”

She looked at him then. Right in the eyes, without trying to hide the fact that she was examining him. What she was looking for, Black had no idea, but he held her gaze steadfastly.

Finally, she said, “I’d suggest that you wear a bell or something when you’re out in public, but that would probably be overkill.”

Black smiled again. “Yeah. There are times when going unnoticed has its advantages. But today wasn’t one of them. Again, I’m sorry for startling you.”

Instead of continuing to insist that it was her fault, which was ridiculous, she merely nodded. He liked that.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“What?” The question itself wasn’t surprising, as she was in a kitchen, but he hadn’t expected her to offer to feed him.

“Are you hungry?” she repeated. “It’s after lunch, and if you didn’t have a chance to eat, I can put something together for you real fast before we talk.”

“I’m good,” Black told her.

“It’s no problem,” she insisted. “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to make you a four-course meal or anything, but I can throw together a sandwich or a salad. It’s not a big deal.”

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