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Black Knights Inc.

The following day…

Hew stepped into the kitchen, breathing deeply of the warm scent of coffee and the flowery-smelling cleaner Eliza used on the soapstone countertops.

Britt paced the length of the center island—long, deliberate strides that did nothing to loosen the tightness in his shoulders. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. And he kept muttering something to himself that sounded a little like, “You’re a damned idiot.”

Hew quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. He headed straight to the refrigerator. After pulling out two packs of string cheese, he shut the door with a satisfying thud and, right on cue, Peanut appeared from out of nowhere to wind around his ankles.

Peeling open one of the wrappers, he leaned against the counter, took a contemplative bite, and finally broke the silence. “I can’t help but notice you have an overabundance of restless energy today. Even for you. I also can’t help but notice you have that rarely-seen thinking line between your eyebrows. Something you want to share with the class?”

Britt shot him a look, halting for half a beat. “Not really.” There was no missing the annoyance in his voice as he resumed his pacing.

Hew finished his first piece of cheese while watching his teammate with quiet amusement. It was only after he’d unwrapped the second piece—and dutifully dropped a long string for Peanut to pounce on—that he said, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your date tonight with one lovely little blond agent, would it?”

That had Britt skidding to a stop. “Who told you?”

“Becky,” Hew supplied casually as he took another bite of cheese.

Britt groaned. “I should’ve known she couldn’t keep a secret. That’s the last time I ask to borrow her car.”

Unperturbed, Hew continued to needle. “So it’s true. You do have a date with Agent O’Toole?”

“It’s not a date. I’m going to her house.”

“Even better!” Hew wiggled his eyebrows.

“No!” Britt’s protest echoed around the kitchen as he resumed his pacing. “She wants to talk. Says I owe her an explanation. Which, I reckon I do. But honestly, I’d rather throw myself into oncoming traffic.”

“What sort of explanation is she after?” Hew asked casually.

Britt’s expression tightened. “She wants me to explain why, despite the fact that I can’t get her out of my head, despite the fact that I can’t seem to stop following her around like a damned dog, despite the fact that I think she’s the most wonderful woman on earth, and despite the fact that we have wild chemistry?—”

Hew lifted a hand. “Spare me the details of your wild chemistry. I heard everything I needed to at the cabin.”

Ignoring him, Britt barreled on. “She wants me to explain why, regardless of all that, I refuse to consider starting something with her that will inevitably end in heartbreak.”

Confusion made Hew slow-blink. “Who says it’ll end in heartbreak?”

“In my life, I’ve seen love come in two forms.” Britt’s jaw tightened. “The first is a brilliant, gleaming gift. The other is tragedy in the making. Both are equally likely. And I’m not a risk-taker.”

“Bullshit! You live to take risks.”

“Not like this. This is too terrifying.”

Hew chewed his last bite of cheese thoughtfully, letting the moment breathe before he spoke. His tone, when he finally did, held none of its usual sarcasm. “Here’s how you beat fear, my friend. You live a life so full of love and happiness that there’s no room for it. Fear looks for holes, for emptiness. So you just make sure it can’t find any.”

Britt stopped pacing so he could adamantly shake his head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is.” Hew shrugged. “You just have to grow a pair and heal all that hurt inside you, all those gaping wounds. Because if you don’t heal them, you’ll bleed all over the people who never cut you. And that’s not fair. To them or to you.”

“I think I like you better when your nose is shoved in a book and you’re keeping your thoughts to yourself.”

Hew chuckled, picked up his paperback, and strode toward the stainless-steel trash can in the corner. When he turned back after tossing his empty cheese wrappers, it was to find Britt had quit the room.

Go ahead and run , he thought with a fond shake of his head. If you run fast enough, maybe your demons won’t catch up with you.

He was halfway to the kitchen door, intent on finding a quiet corner to read, when he collided with Sabrina.

“It’s like running into a freight train.” She laughed after stepping back.

His breath strangled in his lungs for reasons that had nothing to do with the collision.

The first thing he noticed—always the first thing—was how good she looked. Her hair was healthier than when she’d first arrived at BKI. The overhead light showed how the dark strands glimmered. And her face…that face that was emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids when he closed his eyes at night…had filled out. The sharp hollows had been replaced with soft curves and a rosy glow. But it was her eyes that tied his tongue. Large, luminous, and alive in a way they hadn’t been before.

He'd always thought she was pretty. But now?

Christ! She’s so beautiful that it hurts to look at her.

“What did you do to Britt?” Her tone was a mix of amusement and curiosity. “He ran out of here like a scalded dog.”

And god help me, that accent!

Britt spoke with the same lilting cadence and round vowels, but somehow, it all sounded softer and sweeter coming out of Sabrina’s mouth.

“I fed him some hard truths.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think he cared much for them.”

Her lips curved into a small smile that he would swear did something diabolical to his heart. Then she settled her hand lightly on his forearm.

Her fingers were soft. Her skin was cool. And even though her touch was simple, it sent a jolt of electricity racing up his spine.

“You’re a good friend, Hew.” Her voice was soft and sincere. “Even if Britt doesn’t see it right now, I do.”

Friend.

The word hung in the air between them like an anchor. It seemed to sink into the tender, hollow place where his most secret hopes resided.

She’d clung to him like a lifeline in the months since she’d joined BKI.

He got it. Their shared grief, loneliness, and individual traumas had fused into a mutual bond. Now, he was her safe space, the person who never pushed, the one who listened without judgment.

As she stared up at him, her dark eyes full of affection and trust, he knew with a gut-deep certainty that friendship was all she felt for him.

Which is my bad luck , he thought wistfully. Because I feel so, so much more for her.