Harlow #2
He rolled his eyes at her and smiled. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me, Harlow. You're taking the bed.”
“I'm not taking your bed,” she said.
“Why the hell not?” he asked.
“Because it's your bed. I can take the sofa,” she insisted.
“I own it. I'll decide who sleeps in it,” he said.
Her cheeks heated and his eyes darkened slightly.
“That sounded different in my head,” he admitted.
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it—a real laugh, and the sound startled her.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed without first checking who was around to hear it. Frank didn’t allow sudden outbursts.
Wade stared at her. “What’s funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she lied. “You're staring.”
“You should do that more,” he said.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Laugh,” he breathed. “I’m betting that's something you don’t do very often.” Her smile disappeared because there was something about the way he said it. He wasn’t flirting or teasing, but just making a quiet observation.
Harlow's throat tightened. “Maybe I'll have a reason to now.” She shrugged. Wade held her gaze, and for one terrifying second, she wondered if he was going to say something that would make the strange pull between them impossible to ignore. Instead, he reached beneath the bar and grabbed his keys.
“Come on, runaway bride,” he teased.
Harlow frowned. “Don't call me that.”
“Runaway Princess?” he asked.
She narrowed her eyes. “Try it and see what happens.”
His grin appeared on his handsome face again, and damn if the man wasn't devastating when he smiled.
“Come on, Harlow.” That was better. She followed him toward the back entrance, but the second Wade opened the door and cold night air swept inside, Harlow stopped.
Fear slammed into her again as she looked out at the dark parking lot.
Wade immediately noticed, and he stepped outside first and scanned the lot, and then he looked back at her.
“Clear,” he said. Her feet refused to move, and Wade didn't rush her. He didn’t tell her she was being ridiculous. He simply stood in the rain waiting. “You're safe,” he said. Harlow wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to, but she was afraid.
Wade held out his hand to her, and she knew that it was now or never.
She took a deep breath and stepped outside, taking his offered hand.
Wade stayed beside her all the way to his truck.
When he opened the passenger door, Harlow climbed inside and locked it before he had even walked around the front, and he seemed to notice, but he didn't comment.
A minute later, Wade slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
Harlow watched Wade's Watering Hole disappear behind them.
She should have been terrified about where she was going.
She was getting into a truck with a man she'd met only a few hours ago.
He was a biker, a stranger, and a man who carried a gun like it was another limb.
Yet as Wade drove through the rain, Harlow found herself sinking deeper into the seat.
For the first time since she'd climbed out the bathroom window at the wedding venue, her body began to relax, and her eyelids grew heavy.
“You can sleep,” Wade said.
“I don't sleep around strangers,” she said.
“Good policy.”
She glanced at him, but his eyes stayed on the road. “Wade?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked.
His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel, and for several seconds, he didn't answer. Then he shrugged. “You walked into my bar.” Harlow waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.
“That can't be the whole reason,” she insisted.
“It's going to have to be enough for tonight,” he said.
She studied his profile, and she knew that he wasn't going to give her anything else.
Any other time, that would have pissed her off, but she was just too tired to care right now.
She rested her head against the window and her eyes drifted closed.
She didn't know where Wade was taking her.
Harlow didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
She didn't know if Frank would find her again, but tonight, she had escaped.
Tonight, she had chosen herself, and for the first time in a very long time, Harlow Kane had absolutely no intention of letting anyone choose for her again.
Harlow woke up screaming. One second, she was trapped inside the ballroom with Frank’s hand wrapped around her wrist, her father standing behind him telling her to stop making a scene. The next, she was sitting upright in a strange bed with her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.
“No!” she shouted. She scrambled backward until her shoulders slammed against the headboard. Darkness surrounded her, and she looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell she was.
“Harlow?” The deep voice came from somewhere beyond the bedroom door, and she froze—Wade.
Memories rushed back all at once—the wedding and running from Frank.
She remembered stumbling into Wade’s Watering Hole and Frank threatening his entire club to get to her, but Wade didn’t flinch.
She remembered Wade driving her away from the bar, which meant that she had to be at Wade’s house—safe.
At least, she hoped she was. Honestly, she was half asleep when he helped her into his house.
She barely remembered anything past getting into his truck.
“Harlow?” he said again. The door remained closed, and that registered somewhere through the panic. Wade wasn’t barging inside. He was giving her privacy and space.
“Yeah,” she managed.
“You okay?” he asked.
What a ridiculous question. “No.”
There was a pause. “Can I come in?” That surprised her enough to pull her completely out of the nightmare. He was asking for permission, and that wasn’t something that she was used to.
Harlow dragged a shaking hand through her hair.
“Yeah.” The door opened slowly. Light from the hallway spilled into the room, outlining Wade’s massive frame.
He wore nothing but a pair of black sweatpants; his chest was bare, and his hair was disheveled from sleep.
Oh, wow. That was completely unexpected.
Harlow immediately looked away because she was absolutely not going to ogle the nice man who was giving her a place to stay for the night.
She had enough problems, and adding an attraction to the biker currently protecting her did not need to become one of them.
Wade reached for the lamp beside the door and turned it on, allowing the soft light to fill the room. “You were screaming.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don't apologize,” he said.
“But I woke you,” she insisted.
“I was awake already.”
She looked at him. “You were?”
“The couch sucks,” he said.
Despite herself, she smiled slightly. “I told you I'd sleep there.”
“And I told you no,” he said.
“There seems to be a pattern developing here,” she said.
“Yeah. You argue a lot,” he teased.
“I was going to say you’re bossy,” she said.
“That too.” His gaze moved over her face.
Harlow became painfully aware that she was sitting in his bed wearing his club’s T-shirt.
Through her brain fog, she remembered changing out of the borrowed sweatpants before going to sleep because they were too big, which meant the shirt was currently the only thing covering her.
Thankfully, it fell almost to her knees.
Wade apparently realized the same thing because his eyes dipped for half a second before returning firmly to her face.
Something warm fluttered low in her stomach. This was exactly what she didn’t need.
“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked. She nodded. “Was it about Frank?” She nodded again, and Wade’s jaw tightened. He stepped farther into the room but stopped several feet from the bed. “You want some water?”
“Please,” she said. He disappeared without another word, and Harlow released a shaky breath.
She looked around the bedroom. She hadn't really noticed much when they arrived.
Exhaustion had taken over before Wade had even finished showing her where everything was.
His house wasn't what she'd expected. She'd pictured something dark and filthy. Beer bottles everywhere. Motorcycle parts in the living room. Maybe a stripper pole. Instead, Wade’s place was clean and comfortable.
It was masculine without looking like he'd decorated it by walking through a sporting goods store blindfolded.
The bedroom was simple. With a large bed and dark furniture.
It had nothing unnecessary. There were no photographs, and she found that interesting.
Wade returned carrying a bottle of water, and he stopped beside the bed and held it out. “Thanks.” Their fingers brushed as she took the bottle from him, and Harlow jerked. Wade immediately pulled his hand back.
“Sorry,” he breathed.
“No.” She twisted the cap off the bottle. “You didn't do anything.” His eyes dropped to her wrist. Even in the dim light, the bruises were obvious. She instinctively tugged the sleeve lower.
“Harlow.” She hated the way he said her name. It was too gentle, and gentleness could break her faster than cruelty ever had.
“What?” she asked.
“Did he hurt you tonight?” she asked.
She looked down at the water bottle as she thought about lying to him, but she couldn’t. “Yes.”
Wade went completely still. “What did he do?” he asked.
She swallowed. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I asked.” She looked up at him, and his expression softened slightly. “Was that the wrong answer?” he asked.
That almost made her laugh. “Definitely.”
He rubbed a hand over his beard. “How about it’s because I want to know what happened to you?”
Harlow studied him. “Why?” He didn't answer immediately, and she hadn't expected him to.
Finally, Wade shrugged. “Can't explain it.”
“That isn't very reassuring,” she said.