I nodded. “I’ll put on some dark eye makeup, and no one will recognize me at the bar.”
His gaze darkened as he moved toward the car. “I’m having second thoughts about this plan.”
I moved in front of him and he nearly collided with me. “Are you suggesting I can’t handle myself?” I asked in a sharp tone.
His eyes narrowed. “It’s not about handling yourself.”
“You realize you’re being a chauvinist right now, don’t you? It’s okay for you to go in alone, but not me?”
“I’m six foot two and two hundred and thirty pounds, Harper,” he said in frustration. “You’re five seven and about one forty. I can throw a punch and knock someone out. You?—”
“Can take a guy down too, James. Do you know how many male suspects I’ve busted on my own? Some of them aggressively?” When he didn’t answer, I said, “Neither do I, because there’ve been too many to count.” I stabbed his chest with the tip of my index finger. “I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself.”
He took a step back, his face softening. “I know you can, but you have to understand, I’m used to being the protector.”
“In those woods last week, I think I proved I’m good at being a protector too.”
His face softened even more. “You’re right.”
A triumphant grin spread across my face. “What did you say?”
“I’m not gonna repeat it.” He rolled his eyes, then looked pained at the movement.
“You need to rest,” I said, pissed at myself for not checking on how he was feeling sooner.
“I’m fine.” He moved around me toward the back of the car and popped the trunk. “We need to get you some clothes for tonight, but I also want to take you to a gym.”
“We have a gym at the hotel,” I said. “I probably ran five miles last night.”
“I want to see you spar,” he said as he placed the bags in the back, then shut the lid. “That is non-negotiable.”
“I have no problem showing you I can spar,” I said defiantly. “Especially if it will make you trust me more.”
“It’s not a matter of trusting you, Harper.” He paused, indecision flickering in his eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted.
“I need to make sure you are.”
We spent the next two hours shopping for clothes for both of us—clothes that would help us blend in grungy situations, as well as some nice clothes in case we needed to look professional.
Carter had sent James texts, telling him the team protecting Natalie was in place. One of the bodyguards—a woman—had gone in to introduce herself to Natalie and given her a panic button. She’d also covertly placed a camera on a credenza across from Natalie’s desk as she’d walked around the room under the guise of making sure it was secure.
I felt slimy at the thought of watching her without her knowledge, but it was ultimately for her own protection. If someone confronted her before she could reach her panic button, James’s team would be in her office in less than thirty seconds.
By the time we finished, I pushed for going back to the hotel so James could rest, but he refused, saying I needed to train more than he needed to rest.
“I’m not sparring with you, James,” I said in a flat tone.
“As much as it pains me, I agree. Which is why we’re meeting someone else.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who?”
“Tex, who I think has what you need.”
“What does that mean?” I asked suspiciously.
“Tex fought MMA for a few years.”
