Page 37 of Singled Out

“Thank you,” I said. I watched him for a few more seconds, finding nothing to dissuade me. “You’re welcome to stay in one of the other bedrooms instead of a hotel.” I had a lock on my door, but I didn’t think I’d need it.

He studied me right back, his head tilted. “If you’re sure you’re comfortable with that, I’ll take you up on it.”

“I’m sure. I’ll be out in less than a month.” I couldn’t let myself think too hard about what I’d just indirectly committed to. I obviously couldn’t stay here. “If it goes into September, I’ll pay a prorated rent.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ian said. “Being able to stay here will help me a lot. I’ll be taking stock of what needs to be done, seeing to any repairs or upgrades. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible and give you a heads-up on any projects that might be disruptive.”

I nodded just as I caught sight of an SUV pulling up in the driveway. My heart lurched when I recognized it as Max’s. “I have one more condition to add to our deal.”

His brows went up in question.

“That guy from last night? He’s going to show up at the front door in about thirty seconds. I’m going out the back, to the studio. If you can get rid of him, I’ll buy you dinner sometime.”

Ian followed my gaze out the window as Max got out of his vehicle. With a half grin, Ian said, “I can handle him.”

“Thanks.” I returned his smile. “We’ll shake later. I gotta go.”

Without waiting for Max to knock, I beelined right the hell out the back way to my refuge.

Chapter Twelve

Max

I pulled up in Harper’s driveway and put the SUV in park, scanning the house for any sign of activity. The windows revealed nothing, but movement behind the house, nearly out of my line of sight, caught my eye.

I was ninety-eight percent sure that was Harper. She’d scurried into the studio like a frightened mouse. I clenched my jaw hard enough to break a tooth. She’d obviously gone into the house while Naomi’s drunken, asshole brother was still there.

I was out of the vehicle in a heartbeat, torn between storming into the house to unleash on the brother and following her to the studio to make sure she was okay.

Concern for Harper won out.

I strode across the gravel, keeping an eye on the back door of the house, half expecting that crazy son of a bitch to burst out in a fit of anger and go after her.

I let myself into the studio and paused for my eyes to adjust to the dimness. I was in an entryway that opened onto an expansive, high-ceilinged room. At first glance, I didn’t see Harper, but I heard someone to the side. When I took a step into the room, I spotted her bending down and taking out a storage bin from a locker.

Her dark hair was pulled up sloppily, several strands spilling down along the sides of her face. She wore short running shorts that showed off an expanse of feminine legs and a cropped top that revealed the skin at her waist.

I stood there staring for longer than necessary, knowing I needed to alert her to my presence. I got caught up in the way her running clothes revealed so much of her tempting flesh. Then my gaze caught on her face. Her lips. The lips I’d had mine all over last night. Unreasonably, irrationally, the urge to kiss her again pulsed through me and nearly had me stepping toward her.

Tamping down on that idea before I did anything stupid, I scanned her for any sign of distress or injury. She appeared to be in no immediate danger.

As she pivoted around and set the box on the closest worktable, I cleared my throat, causing her to jump out of her skin.

“Sorry,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing out here?” She glanced behind me at the door, as if expecting someone else.

“Checking on you. Did he threaten you?”

“Who? Ian?” She looked behind me again in the direction of the house, her irritation written all over her face. “I’m fine.”

She wouldn’t meet my gaze, so I wondered if she wasn’t leveling with me about the guy in her house or if she just didn’t want to see me. The thought that I might be less welcome than the volatile dude inside took the wind right out of my sails.

And yet, in the next breath, it hit me again how warranted her anger toward me was.

Now that I knew she was physically unharmed, I needed to apologize.

Harper’s focus remained on the plastic bin filled with what looked from here like colorful polished stones. She rifled through the bin, pulling out a stone here and there, laying some of them on a tray, setting some back into the bin, as if she was looking for something specific. As if she didn’t care I was in the same room.