Protecting His Pregnant Lover - Leslie North Page 0,1

he knew; definitely too smart to get caught up in—

One of the jocks wolf-whistled, and the others craned to look. Levon hated that his immediate instinct was also to seek out the source of such vocal admiration.

In the next instant, he didn’t regret a thing.

Standing in the middle of the crowded gym was one of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen. Her head was turned slightly, but he saw enough of her to mark her big eyes, her full lips, her neat little nose. Chocolate brown curls cascaded down the pale length of her swan-like neck and tumbled across bare shoulders. Her dress was a dark, muted shade of wine red; it looked simple and inexpensive, but then, a beauty with those long, alabaster legs, those calves, those curves in all the right places, could make even a revisited prom dress look like the height of elegance.

For the first time that evening, Levon took real interest in his surroundings. Something stirred to life in him as he assessed this woman from afar. God, he had always loved a girl with curly hair, ever since unassuming Olive tripped into the seat beside his own in sophomore year—

The woman turned, her gaze flickering over the group of men hunched like vultures above the rest of them. Levon was glad for his military posture in that moment, and glad he had elected to sit at a distance from the rest when he noticed the way her look of passing curiosity immediately cooled upon realizing who made up the ranks on the bleachers. She fished in her purse for something and withdrew a black, spindly pair of glasses, which she pushed home along the bridge of her nose. She didn’t bother looking in their direction again.

His teammates realized her identity the same instant he did. Levon hated the fact that he hadn’t realized it sooner.

“I knew it! It’s her!” Randy crowed. “What’s-her-name.”

“Olive.” Her name was a welcome surprise on Levon’s tongue. Olive. He had only ever said it out loud as a boy; now, hearing his gruff acknowledgement of her sent a thrill through him, making her all the more a woman now that he was a man.

“Olive!” Randy slapped him on the back. “Yo! What did I tell you? That girl is banging. I knew she’d get hot eventually!”

“Olive has always been hot.” Levon downed the rest of his beer, crumpled the can like it was tinfoil, and resisted the urge to contour it to Randy’s face. “Wish I could say it was nice catching up. Later.” He made sure his later took on the tone of never.

“What the hell? Asher!” Randy called after him as Levon exited the bleachers. “You just gonna drink our beer and take off? Asshole!”

Nothing his old school chum said now registered with him. He was far more interested in the woman who had managed to vanish from sight in the moments he’d been distracted. Levon cursed under his breath. He deposited his empty dutifully in the recycling bin, then ran a hand through his hair. It was still short by civilian standards, but its unfamiliar length since he left the Navy still made him uncomfortable on occasion. He was so used to regulations that it seemed a betrayal to let anything about his appearance slip below standards. Maybe he’d go back to his hotel room tonight, enjoy one more solitary beer, and buzz it himself.

Seemed as good an excuse as any to get the hell out of here.

Levon pocketed his big hands and wandered the darkened hallways of the old high school on his way out… or at least, what he thought was his way out. Evidently the school had scrounged up some funds to renovate, because the more he wandered, the more he realized he had no idea where he was. A few more turns spat him out in an older section that he immediately recognized as the science wing.

Levon wasted no time making for the first lighted door; he had wasted enough time trying to escape these funhouse halls already. The new renovations were really starting to mess with his nostalgia. Thankfully, one of the science teachers appeared to be putting in some afterhours. He rapped the door with his knuckles, then let himself in without awaiting a response. “Hi. Sorry. I’m here for the reunion, I just got turned around with all the—”

What was turning out to be a pretty lame explanation died mid-delivery in his throat when, at the lab table