Three

Harlow

I’d been a fool to think I’d be able to relax when I got home from a long and busy day at work. It was Tuesday evening, and I’d just sat down to have dinner when my phone rang.

The corners of my mouth tipped up in a smile as I swiped my finger across the screen to take the call I knew was going to be coming. Not only did I already know based on the conversation we’d had last week that she would call, but I’d also texted Olive earlier today when I took a short break for lunch. Knowing my best friend wouldn’t yet be on her lunch break and that I’d be back to working with my clients when she did, I’d wanted to tease her about the news I had to share over my date.

“Hey, Olive. How was your trip this weekend?” I greeted her. There wasn’t a chance she was going to answer that question.

“Oh, don’t try that with me, Harlow,” she scolded me. “You don’t get to send me a text like the one you did on Saturday and this afternoon and expect that your date on Friday isn’t the first thing you’re going to talk to me about.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping. “Are you saying that mentioning my date hadn’t gone anything like I’d imagined was far too much suspense for you?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding sharing now? I mean, based on the way your voice sounds, I can only make assumptions that it was positively wonderful, but I still want the details. So, enough with the stall tactics. Spill the beans,” she demanded.

Apparently, I was doing an incredible job of hiding precisely how horrible the date had been, so what I wound up sharing was going to come as quite the shock to her.

“Alright, alright. Well, I guess if I had to choose one word to describe my date with Rob, I would have to call it a disaster,” I informed her.

“What? Oh, no,” she murmured. “I was convinced you were going to give me good news. What happened?”

I loved teasing her like this, because it was only going to make her reaction that much more special when I finally shared the truth about Blaze.

“Where should I start?” I countered. “Let’s see. I mean, he showed up late, and I don’t mean five minutes late, either. Once he finally arrived, he never even apologized for his delayed arrival. I brushed it off, thinking he could have been feeling some nerves or something, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t even close to being the case with this guy.”

“What did he do?”

I took a sip of my water before I revealed, “He essentially told me that if I wasn’t interested in sleeping with him on the first date, there wouldn’t be any others.”

Olive gasped. “Are you joking?”

“Nope. He was content to have a drink or two with me that night, claimed there wouldn’t be any hard feelings if I chose not to, but explained he wouldn’t be putting in the time or money associated with dating me if he didn’t have the opportunity to make sure there was physical chemistry,” I shared.

There was a long pause as Olive took that information in. “That’s awful. Why wouldn’t he have said something to you before you even showed up there?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I murmured, lifting my fork to my mouth.

“This is such a bummer, Harlow. I was so excited for you, praying it went well,” she said. “What did you even say to him?”

The smile was back on my face. Olive was going to love this. “I didn’t really get the chance to say anything.”

“What? Why not?” she pressed. Even through the phone, there was no missing just how eager she was for answers.

“Well, a guy who I hadn’t realized at the time saw me walk in and had been nearby throughout the entire conversation I’d had with Rob decided to step in and pretend to be a friend of mine,” I shared.

“I’m sorry. What?”

At that point, I’d taken another bite of my dinner, chewed, and swallowed before I launched in and told her everything that had happened from the moment Blaze walked up and interrupted to rescue me from the so-called date I had with Rob. I gave her nearly every last detail from the instant I realized what Blaze was attempting to do for me to the second he walked me to my car after we’d had coffee together for hours in the diner across the street from the bar. By the time I finished, I was prepared for her to go crazy, and Olive did not disappoint.

“This is the greatest news I’ve ever heard,” she squealed. “A week ago, I honestly thought it was going to be the fact that you’d joined the dating app, but this is better. So much better. I love that this guy just walked up and rescued you from that awful date.”

I closed my eyes and felt something warm move through me at the mere thought of Blaze and the way he’d stepped up for me. “I wish I would have known that guys like Blaze existed. I might have put myself out there sooner.”

She audibly sighed with relief. “I love this for you. So, when are the two of you getting together again?”

Of all the things I’d told her, I’d kept this bit a secret. I had a feeling if I’d mentioned it from the beginning, Olive wouldn’t have had the opportunity to enjoy and celebrate the news as much as she had.

“We didn’t exactly plan another date,” I told her.

“What? Why not?”

“Blaze wanted to exchange numbers, and I spent far too much time in my head thinking about how wonderful he was and how I didn’t want that night to be the last time I saw him that he assumed I was struggling with wanting to share my number,” I explained. “He wound up giving me his card and told me to call if I wanted to give him the opportunity to take me out on a real date and explore something between us.”

“And you called him by the time you made it home, right?”

“No.”

“First thing the next morning?”

I pressed my lips together, feeling the guilt move through me. After what Blaze had done for me, the least I could have done was reach out to him. I didn’t know what was stopping me, but it had been days since I saw him, and I hadn’t made any effort to contact him.

“I haven’t reached out to him at all,” I confessed.

“Why the heck not?”

I stood from my chair, picked up my phone and plate, and moved toward the kitchen. After dumping my plate in the sink, I moved to the living room and flopped down on the couch. Only then did I speak. “I think I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

It didn’t make any sense. I’d had the best night of my life with Blaze, and for some reason I couldn’t even articulate, I was terrified of calling him. “I don’t know. I want to see him again. I do. But?—”

“But what?” Olive asked, cutting me off. My best friend didn’t seem to mind saying what needed to be said. “Harlow, don’t ruin this. You just told me how incredible this guy was, how great the conversation was, and how wonderful you felt when you got home that night. What could you ever think you have to be scared about?”

“It’s stupid. I know. I guess I’m just thinking it’s impossible for me to have met someone like him the way that I did and have it be the real deal,” I told her.

There was a long stretch of silence, which led me to believe Olive was going to say something extraordinarily profound that would make me realize how ridiculous I was being. But I was surprised that wasn’t the case when she finally pointed out, “There’s only one way to figure that out.”

She was right.

I wasn’t a woman scorned by some previous relationship. I had no reason not to reach out to Blaze and see what might be waiting there for us.

I was afraid of the unknown. Of what was new and unfamiliar.

And the truth was, having lived the way I had for so long for no good reason, I had every reason to be fearful of allowing that life to continue.

What had I been thinking by not calling Blaze? What was I trying to protect myself from?

On that thought, I said, “I promise I’m going to call him tomorrow.”

I could hear the smile in my friend’s voice when she replied, “That’s my girl.”

With that out of the way, I demanded, “Now, tell me about your weekend with your man.”

My best friend didn’t hesitate to share it all.

Blaze

When I walked into work on Wednesday morning, I immediately sensed something was wrong.

As a private investigator, perhaps it was my job to notice things the average person might not, but in this case, I didn’t think anyone could have missed it.

That sense started the minute I walked through the front door and saw Avalon sitting at her desk. She was normally bubbly and outspoken, and while she’d typically greet everyone who walked through the door with a smile on her face and a conversation along with it, she hadn’t done that with me.

I realized it could have meant she and Damon had an argument that morning, but I knew that wasn’t that case when I could feel tension lingering in the air.

It was as though the entire office was being weighed down by some horrible, horrible news.

I tried to ignore it, continuing my journey toward my private office, but on the way there, I was stopped in my tracks by Huck, one of the members of our self-defense and tactical training unit. “Did you hear what happened last night?” he asked.

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. But from what I could sense the minute I walked into work this morning, it wasn’t good. What’s going on?”

He jerked his head toward the front of the Harper Security Ops office building and said, “Come with me to the conference room. Jesse and Sawyer just arrived.”

“Sawyer?” I repeated, feeling confused. Jesse worked in our bodyguard and private security unit. Sawyer was his woman, but she didn’t work here. I could only assume whatever had happened must have had something to do with her.

“Yeah. She was working last night when The Steel Pub was targeted,” he explained.

Okay.

Yep.

This was news to me. I hadn’t heard anything about this, and it was likely because my brain had been so muddled for the last several days.

A vision of Harlow flashed in my mind, and I had to work to push it back in order to focus on what was happening.

Huck and I made it to the conference room where we found not only Jesse and Sawyer but Royce, Leo, and Ty, too.

“So, three masked men entered The Steel Pub last night and trashed the place?” Royce asked.

Sawyer nodded. Her voice was shaky when she replied, “Yes. And they didn’t hesitate with it, either. They came in, shouting, waving guns, and just went crazy. We didn’t have time to react.”

“The place is a mess,” Jesse added. “Every glass bottle was smashed, and every person there, including employees and patrons, was terrorized.”

“Do they have any possible suspects?” Leo asked.

“None,” Jesse answered. “The Steel Ridge PD are investigating, obviously, but they don’t have any leads at this point.”

“This seems strange for a random attack,” Ty noted. “They didn’t take anything?”

“Nothing,” Sawyer confirmed.

Leo turned his attention to Royce. “What is the plan here?”

A look of defeat washed over Royce’s face. “Unfortunately, at this point, we’re not involved. If the police department reaches out and wants our help, you know we’ll step up to the plate. For now, in case this is a targeted attack, Jesse is going to spend his evenings, when Sawyer’s working, hanging at the pub. Since it’s just not in our nature to sit back and do nothing, we’ll likely try to have Ty and some other members of the bodyguard and private security unit watching over the place.”

That wasn’t a bad idea.

Ty had been right. I didn’t know much about the owner of The Steel Pub, but it was likely that someone had a problem with him. It was entirely possible that what happened last night was meant as a warning. And if that was the case, it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that if the owner didn’t act accordingly, the people who showed up last night could return.

After getting a few more details about what happened last night, Jesse and Sawyer took off while everyone else dispersed.

As Royce stood to leave, I stepped into the room and said, “Hey, Royce, Huck just told me what was going on, and I heard what happened last night. I know we’re not officially on the case, but if there’s anything that comes up that you’d like to my help with, I’m eager to do it.”

“Thanks, Blaze. Leo said the same thing, so if that’s where things wind up, I’m sure we’ll get things handled between the two of you,” he replied.

“For sure. Alright, I’m going to head back to my office and get to work,” I told him.

“Sounds good. I’ll keep you posted on this.”

After I left the conference room and made my way to my own office, my phone buzzed against my leg. I pulled it out, noticed it was a local number, but didn’t recognize the caller. Even still, with barely a smidgen of hope left in me that it could be the one call I’d been hoping for ever since Friday night, I answered.

“Hello?”

A soft, feminine voice came through the line. “Blaze?”

“Yeah. Yeah, is this Harlow?” I asked.

“You remembered me,” she said.

Did she think it was possible I could have forgotten her?

I hadn’t gone out on Friday expecting anything, but I was convinced it had been my lucky night. We’d had such a nice time together, and she was unbelievably gorgeous. She was tall, with a set of legs that seemed to go on for days. Her body was slender, her breasts were on the larger size—easily more than a handful—and she had a pretty face. Harlow had long, straight, dark brown hair that somehow seemed to be accentuated by her whisky-colored eyes. She was sweet and breathtaking, and meeting her had been one of the best encounters of my life. As a guy who’d had plenty of wild experiences, that was saying something.

“Of course, I remember you. I’m glad you called. Would it be presumptuous of me to assume you’re calling with good news?”

“It would not. I was kind of hoping I didn’t drop the ball by not calling you sooner,” she returned.

I hadn’t been able to stop replaying my night with her ever since she drove away from me in the parking lot on Friday. When I hadn’t heard from her this weekend or earlier this week, I forced myself to face the truth—it was possible Harlow didn’t get the same thing out of those few hours we spent together that I did. I was bummed about it, wishing I’d done something to solidify another chance to spend time with her before she left.

Now, it seemed my patience had paid off. “Not at all.”

“So, I’ve taken some time to consider it, and I think I’d like to see what would happen if we gave this a shot to turn into something else.”

A grin spread across my face. “Nothing would make me happier. Would you like to get together again sometime over the next few days?”

“I can make that work,” she said.

“What days are you free?”

Harlow took a moment to consider her response and ultimately answered, “I work every day, Tuesday through Saturday. I’m off on Sundays and Mondays, so I’d be up for anything either in the evenings on the days I work or anytime of the day on my days off.”

I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. “How about we go to dinner on Saturday evening, and if things go well, we can plan a day together on Sunday?”

“Really? That sounds like it could be fun. What would we do on Sunday?” she asked.

I couldn’t have asked for a better response. “I don’t quite know yet, but I love that you’re already convinced dinner will go well and that we’ll be spending that time together on Sunday.”

The silence stretched between us, and it went on for so long, I worried that our connection might have been bad. “Harlow?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said.

“I didn’t hear you say anything.”

“That’s because I didn’t. Is it a bad thing that I’m optimistic about Saturday?” she asked.

It was clear to me that so many years out of the dating scene had left Harlow feeling a bit unsure. I liked her enough to want to try to change her mindset. For now, all I could do was offer her reassurance. “It is not a bad thing,” I promised her. “In fact, my wheels are already turning with possibilities for a fun day together on Sunday.”

I wished I could have seen her face when she replied, “Something tells me I’m in for a real treat.”

If I had anything to say about it, she would be. “I aim to please, Harlow.”

Though it hadn’t been my intention, it sounded as though Harlow might have taken my words to mean something else, because she rasped, “So, are we going to meet somewhere on Saturday?”

I had to ignore the way her voice sounded. If it had been this long for her, I didn’t think coming on too strong too soon would do me any good. “If you’re more comfortable with that, I’m happy to meet you somewhere. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do this the right way and pick you up for dinner.”

“I’m okay with you picking me up.”

“Perfect. How about you text me your address when we get off the phone, and I’ll pick you up around six o’clock on Saturday to take you to The Ridge?” I suggested.

“That works for me.” I heard a distant chime come through the line. “Oh, um, my next client just arrived, so I’ve got to go.”

“It’s no problem at all. Don’t forget to text me, and I’ll see you on Saturday,” I told her.

“Okay. Sounds great.”

Following a beat of silence, I said, “I’m really glad you called me, Harlow.”

She hesitated briefly. “Yeah, me, too.”

We said goodbye to one another and disconnected our call. And for the rest of the day, whenever thoughts of Harlow popped into my head, I didn’t feel the need to push them to the back of my mind. She’d called, and now I had a reason to hope.