The Specialist (Norcross #3) - Anna Hackett Page 0,41
“Let’s put these in water and get you a drink.”
Harlow shot him a wide-eyed look, then followed his mom inside.
“Harlow!” Gia waylaid them. “How you doing?”
“Fine.”
Haven stood right behind Gia. The women disappeared into the kitchen.
Rhys appeared holding two beers. “It’s not some fancy French wine.”
“Fuck you.” Easton took the bottle.
“You both okay?” Rhys asked. “Heard someone took shots at you this morning.”
“We’re fine. Harlow bounced back, as she always does.”
In the living room, Easton found Vander, Saxon, and his dad. Ethan Norcross had given his sons their tall, muscular bodies, and his rugged face was topped with salt-and-pepper hair.
“Looking forward to meeting your girl, Easton.”
“Hi, Dad.” He gave his dad’s back a slap. Such a solid presence, always supportive. He’d never put his family at risk to keep up appearances. “My girl’s had a rough few days.”
“Vander said you’re helping her out.” His father’s face hardened. “Her father isn’t helping.”
Easton felt a flash of anger. “He’s in over his head.”
Gia, Haven, and Harlow appeared, the three of them holding glasses of wine.
Easton’s father lifted a brow. “A blonde bombshell, no wonder you’re smitten.”
Easton pulled Harlow to his side. “Harlow, this is my father.”
She smiled. “Well, now I know why Norcross men are so handsome.”
Ethan grinned. “I like her.”
Easton’s mom bustled out of the kitchen. “Let’s eat. Everyone to the table.”
Easton slid an arm around Harlow. “Okay?”
She smiled. “Okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harlow sipped her wine. She’d found dinner relaxing and fun.
Mrs. Norcross had cooked lasagna, and it had been delicious. Easton and his brothers liked giving each other a hard time in a fun, sibling way, with Gia getting in her fair share of digs as well.
Ethan and Clara Norcross were friendly, supportive, loving parents. As Harlow listened to the conversation, she stared at her red wine. She realized that while she loved her family, they didn’t have this type of connection.
Growing up, her father was often busy, or in meetings, and her mother was frequently in bed with a headache. Scarlett was younger than Harlow, and while Harlow adored her sister, they didn’t have loads in common.
“Hey.” Easton touched Harlow’s chin. He had one arm resting along the back of her chair. “Where did you go?”
“Just thinking. You have a great family, Easton.”
“Yes, when they aren’t driving me crazy.” She heard the affection in his voice. Vander called out to him and he turned away.
When she looked up, she found Mrs. Norcross watching her speculatively. Harlow swallowed.
Clara rose, lifting some plates. “Harlow, will you give me a hand in the kitchen?”
Uh-oh. She felt the inevitable interrogation coming on.
Harlow stacked some plates and took them into the bright-white kitchen. It had top-of-the-line appliances, and gorgeous, white-marble countertops.
“Your kitchen is lovely.”
Clara smiled. “Easton renovated it for me a few years back.”
“He loves you.”
“Yes, and he takes good care of those he loves. It’s in his blood. When he joined the Army, I wasn’t surprised. He wanted to serve his country and help other people.”
Harlow nodded.
“But going to war changed him.” The older woman’s dark eyes turned shadowed. “He rarely talks of it.”
“He’s told me a little. I see the darkness sometimes.”
Clara nodded. “He fights it back, but sometimes he’s too hard on himself.”
Harlow smiled. “You mean he’s a workaholic who can’t stop and relax.”
“Yes.”
They shared a smile of understanding.
“My Easton needs someone who brings him sunshine and joy, but who can handle the dark.”
Harlow’s belly churned. All she’d brought him was headaches. “I agree. He needs someone like that.”
Clara arched a brow. “You talk like that isn’t you.”
Harlow pulled in a breath, fighting to keep a hold on her emotions. “We both know it isn’t. Easton deserves the best, and it isn’t me. I’m not bringing him calm and happiness, I’m bringing him stress and problems. I’m not good enough for him.”
Easton stalked into the kitchen, his face angry and his gaze on Harlow. “That’s bullshit.”
She held up her hand. “Easton—”
He grabbed her arms. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that about yourself again. You don’t think you bring me calm and happiness?”
“No! Because of me you got shot at, and had to beat up two guys, and it’s not over yet. You and Vander are spending a fortune to protect me and find my father—”
Easton made an annoyed sound. “I don’t care about any of that. You don’t think when you make an acerbic comment about how rich I am, or how I work too hard, I don’t feel like laughing? You don’t think when you smile, I don’t feel