Page 34 of Stealing Home

The opening is too good to pass up. I step closer to her, slowly slide my hand around her waist, and pull her against me. She exhales a small puff of air. I kiss her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.

I chuckle. “I could choose to take that the wrong way, but I’m a nice guy. So let me say what we’re both thinking. We don’t need to rush this, whatever this is. Let’s just take it slow.”

She playfully shoves me away. “Friends, remember?”

“Well, friend, you promised me dinner,” I say and step back, giving her space.

Her lips twitch. “You’re good, hotshot.”

Harlow’s tongue swipes across her bottom lip, then her teeth slide across the moistened surface. “I hope you like steak.”

“Is there a man who doesn’t?” I let my eyes travel up her body. She’s naturally stunning with her dark hair hanging loose down her back, her face clear of makeup, and casual clothes. “I can’t imagine any man not wanting something you are willing to give.”

“I don’t think this is how friends talk to each other. Maybe I’m doing it wrong, it’s been a while since I’ve had friends.” She grabs her phone and unlocks the screen.

I take it from her. “What are you doing?”

She smirks, and I catch on that she’s playing with me. “I’m going to text Wren that she’s got a nice ass.”

Laughing I hand her back her phone and call her bluff. “I’m sure it would make her day.”

She slides her phone back in her pocket. “What are we doing, really?” She’s shy, and I love that she is brave enough to ask despite that.

I take her hand and spin her. Her dark hair fans out around her, and she laughs. When she settles, I take her into my arms and look into her dark blue eyes. “What do you want us to be doing? I’ll lay it out for you. You fascinate the hell out of me. I want to get to know you.”

“But why?” she stutters. “I’m thirty-three. I spent my Friday meeting with a lawyer to serve your coach with divorce papers.”

My heart thuds. I frame her face with my hands. “Be here with me. I know there’s a list of reasons in your head why we shouldn’t do this, but I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

She lowers her head. “I don’t know. This is all happening so fast.” Her eyes lift to mine and hold. “Not just whatever this is with you. Everything is changing. A new job, new home, and—“

“Tonight is just dinner, Low. Don’t overthink this. I promise you, I’m good with slow.”

“Okay,” she says with a smile. She nods her head towards the kitchen. “Let’s have dinner.”

She grabs plates while I put together a salad. Her brow furrows while she watches me chop vegetables and make vinaigrette from scratch. “You can cook?”

I don’t want to ask her about her husband. He doesn’t belong here with us, and she’ll tell me what she’s comfortable with when she’s ready. Instead, I try to keep it light. “My dad always helps my mom cook, or hell he does it all himself most of the time.”

“Your mom is a lucky woman,” she remarks.

The corner of my lip twitches. “My father would tell you he’s the lucky one.”

I take a deep breath and ask her one of the questions that’s been worrying me. “Where does Coach think you are? Even he is going to notice you’ve been gone. Does he think you’re still staying with friends?”

Harlow shrugs. “I mean it might take him a while, but that depends on if he’s out with his side piece or not. He tends to come home late. I didn’t tell him I filed for divorce, he should get served soon.”

“When is that going to happen?” I ask.

She blows out a breath. “I hope tomorrow. The lawyer I saw was really kind, and since we don’t have kids, and I don’t want anything, he thinks he can get it drafted and serve him. I wanted a no contact order, but they said I needed more proof.”

Hot rage heats my blood. “More proof than bruises on your arms and legs? Are you going to be safe here alone?”

She looks down. “Safer than I would be in the same house with him. There’s security here, and he’s not the only one who knows how to use a baseball bat.”

I tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “You’ve got me too. Don’t hesitate to call me if you get scared.”

“What are you studying?” she asks, changing the subject.

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