Page 27 of Guarded Knight (Echo Valley #3)

I reach for my iced latte on a four-top table in Café Luna, sipping like the cold can steady me. It doesn’t. I’m running hot today, nerves buzzing, working opposite Freya. She knows something’s up. She’s worried. But she also understood when I told her I couldn’t explain—not yet. Maybe not ever.

I checked the almighty internet—California has very clear laws on trespassing, and entrapment isn’t even what it’s called if I’m the one reaching out to him as a civilian.

At least that’s what Google claims. But I’m not letting Google decide my best friend’s fate.

I won’t risk Freya testifying or getting dragged into this.

No, this part’s on me.

Tomorrow I’m going to be the bait.

It’s a terrifying thought, but also, maybe even worse, a little bit exhilarating.

I finally feel like I’m doing something.

Like I get to fight back. Not just for me, but to make sure Cameron never does this to anyone else.

I can’t let him walk away from this unpunished, ready to stalk another woman.

I hope Gabriel scares the shit out of him.

It’s hard to concentrate when I can feel his gaze wrapped around me, even when he’s all the way across the café, pretending to be another laptop warrior. I glance up and catch him watching me like he never stopped, and he gives me that slow, infuriating grin.

My stomach flips. My whole body aches to close the space between us.

There’s something about a man who doesn’t smile much. When he does, it feels like a promise. Like he’s giving me something no one else gets.

Damn, I want it all.

Or at the very least, to crawl into his lap and kiss him until I forget what catching Cameron really means.

It means leaving. Walking away like the first time we knew how much there is between us. Pretending friendship is enough when it never was the first time.

But Gabriel deserves the chance to heal without me becoming another weight around his neck.

And yet… my heart keeps whispering stay.

Stay, even though it would tether him to me. Stay, even though he deserves more than what my future holds.

I laugh humorlessly inside. We really are two great big messes.

But God, I hate those shadows in his eyes. The self-loathing. The way he talks like he isn’t worth a damn thing.

Doesn’t love conquer all? Couldn’t we stay and just… love each other without conditions? Hold each other up instead of tearing ourselves down?

He’s still watching me. I drop my gaze before he can read every reckless thought in my head and slurp my iced matcha latte like the straw might hold the answers and I’m trying damn hard to suck them in.

I force myself to focus on the environment in Café Luna, to ground myself in the funky artist paintings, the fairy lights, the barista who remembered Freya’s almond milk order after one visit. Every shop in this town has a little bell over the door—charming and old-fashioned.

Once I think I’m ready to work again, I force myself to focus on the spreadsheet open on my screen.

Tiny Heroes, Belinda Doyle’s so-called nonprofit, has been eating up funds like a fire through dry grass.

New office furniture. Lavish conference trips.

Vehicles. A purse? And every single transfer to that badly managed charity has Kevin’s name on it. Kevin.

The man Freya is involved with.

How could he not realize what kind of charity he’s dealing with? Surely, he did some due diligence? And even if he didn’t, he should have. I’ve used Scarlet Hope’s brand promise when speaking at events: ninety-nine percent of proceeds go to the kids and families. Now? It’s all a lie.

I helped Belinda live like a queen.

Even if Kevin isn’t complicit, I’m seething.

My chest tightens when I glance up and see a head full of Freya’s cheerful, bouncy hair. She doesn’t deserve this. She was mortified thinking she might be dating a bad guy.

They haven’t been dating that long. I’m not sure she’s exactly obsessed with the guy, but she still deserves better than the betrayal I’m about to drop in her lap. But I have to.

I steady my voice, not too emotional, not too professional and detached. “Freya. I need to talk to you about something.”

She looks up, eyes wide. “What’s up?”

“You remember the transactions I told you about?” My face scrunches despite myself, as I prepare to upend both our lives.

I turn the screen toward her, the numbers sharp and damning.

“I just read one of the annual reports, and Kevin has allowed a shit load of money to bleed out into personal purchases at other charities.”

Freya’s lips part, her eyes flickering between the screen and my face. Shock lines her features. “So it’s… he… you’re sure he knows?”

My throat tightens. “I can’t be sure of that yet, but here’s the real kick in the teeth. All the charities Scarlet Hope has supported have one thing in common. A woman named Belinda Doyle.”

She says what I’m thinking. “Do you think Kevin and Belinda know each other? Like personally?”

“I don’t know, but there are some coincidences I’m not too excited about.”

“Like what?” There’s dread in her voice, her gaze flickering between me and the screen.

“It might be nothing,” Though my gut says otherwise. “But one of the charities bought a few expensive vehicles. One of them… it’s the same car as Kevin’s.”

Freya’s eyes go glassy. She looks like I just punched her. “What do you mean?”

It didn’t even occur to me until now. I made it sound like he’s cheating on her. And maybe he is, but I didn’t mean to drop that bomb.

Freya’s jaw tightens. “What’s this woman’s last name? Doydle?”

“Doyle,” I say, wincing. Gosh, I hope she doesn’t find these two are an item.

I don’t think Freya was too invested in Kevin, but then again, I wasn’t in Cameron either, but finding out he was messing around still stabbed at my self-esteem.

I try to backtrack. “I still don’t have anything besides these reports from Belinda’s charities but I hate keeping things from you, Freya. I’m already keeping too many secrets as it is.”

She darts her gaze to Gabriel, still planted at his table, eyes on us, and then back at me, quick as a heartbeat. “No. I get it. You have to do what you have to do.”

I hope she doesn’t get it. When Gabriel barked at her in the barn, he apologized, which probably made her think he’s just stressed or a hard-ass. He is both, I’m sure. But I hope she doesn’t realize he’s been suspicious of her, too.

Though I think he’s eased off that.

He hasn’t mentioned it again, not out loud.

Freya’s eyes harden. “Doyle.” She pulls out her tablet, a determined glint in her eyes, and searches with hope on one shoulder and a fuck you on the other.

I hope I’m wrong about Belinda and Kevin being connected.

I squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “What the hell are you sorry for? You’re on my side.” She swallows thickly. “I have mixed feelings, but… it’s better we figure this out.”

God, I love this woman.

My phone buzzes, and I jump. Shit. I hate that I still flinch at the simple sound of a text.

A reminder pops up. Meds. I glance at the clock. “I need to run to the pharmacy.”

Freya waves me off. “Leave me here. I’ll be busy and can make it back to the apartment. Prince Protector will be taking you home after, right?”

She’s already deep into her search and won’t be coming up for air soon. Both of us have been down the rabbit hole with cyber-snooping before. I know what it’s like.

I smile tightly. “I’ll see you later.”

I pack my laptop, sling my tote over my shoulder, and glance toward Gabriel. Protective. Intense. Like he’s already deciding where every threat might come from.

God, he’s sexy.

Gabriel is already packed up and races ahead, opening the door before I reach it. I walk through, and he slips my tote bag off my shoulder to carry it for me, gentleman that he is.

The dusk is soft, the sky bleeding into a haze of pinks and oranges. I step out, feeling his electric energy slide in beside me, so natural, like he’s a part of me.

“Did you get a lot of work done?” he asks, more than politely, like he’s worried I didn’t because I might be distracted by tomorrow.

“Yeah, sort of. Not Scarlet Hope work, though. Well, not really. It’s hard to explain.”

He doesn’t push but keeps the conversation rolling in another direction.

“I’m proud of you, you know. I read that you’ve raised over three million since joining. That’s insane.”

I bump into his shoulder. “Wow. I didn’t know bodyguards were on LinkedIn.” I wink and tuck some hair behind my ear. “It’s just a site for boasting.”

“But it’s true,” he says. “So how is that boasting?”

I stare at the gray sidewalk. “True.”

“I’m blown away, Firefly. You’re nailing it.”

I smile bashfully at the ground, not wanting to face him and get butterflies. Again.

He opens the door to the pharmacy, and that familiar tinny chime greets me. I wonder if everyone in Echo Valley planned to use bells; it’s a charming small-town detail. It just makes me… happy.

Gabriel touches my arm, sending a jolt straight to my heart. He hands me my bag back since I’ll need my wallet.

“I’ll wait in the corner. Give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” I quip. “I didn’t really want you hearing about the wholesale order of lube I’m picking up.”

He sticks his tongue in his cheek, head shaking.

It’s a joke but not a bad idea, since being hung up on G means I’ll be entering an infinite desert. No way I could be with another man feeling like this about him. Just like before…

I step toward the counter, but before I make it, a large figure blocks my path. I run my gaze up the length of a white lab coat, stopping on the name tag: Trent.

And running my gaze farther upward… eyes. Blue Eyes.

Shit. I was bound to run into the guy again in a town this size. The world seems to shrink around him, he’s so massive. The fluorescent lights overhead flicker, buzzing like a wasp’s nest. But in his lab coat, he looks all innocent, like he’s not the same man who made that dirty joke in the bar.

I guess we all have alter egos.

“So we meet again,” he says, his tone half playful, half… something else. His gaze rakes over me like he’s taking stock.

Nope. The same ego is still here.

“Ah… guess so.” I force a smile. “Do you work here?” I’d pegged him for construction or a bouncer at a shady club. Not a pharmacist.

Never judge a book by its cover.

He shrugs, giving me that easy grin. “Yeah. Been pushing drugs for ten years. But I haven’t been here long.” He tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow. “Need help finding that lifetime supply of lube you were talking about?”

A blush scorches my cheeks. “You heard that?”

His grin widens. “I was stocking the shelf next to you, and it’s damn hard not to notice a woman like you.”

I try to laugh it off, but it sticks in my throat.

The pharmacy feels too small, too bright.

I can feel Gabriel’s presence even though I can’t see him; I know his eyes are on us.

I want to look over my shoulder, but I don’t want to make this more awkward than it is or accidentally give Gabriel the bat signal.

But here, the air feels tight. Gabriel’s presence is a reminder that this moment could explode. Trent could be one wrong word away from turning this into a confrontation I don’t want.

Trent seems like an all right guy. Forward, but all right. Not my type, but all right. He doesn’t need a black eye, though, and judging by the frosty air rolling over my shoulder, he’s in for something from Gabriel. A voodoo doll stabbing at the least.

Why is my gut so heavy? Am I nervous with Gabriel watching? It’s not like I’m not allowed to talk to men or something, and he’s respecting both the bodyguard and friendship line, which I… appreciate. I guess.

I did tell him in the alley of Wild Cantina not to cockblock me.

Ew. That feels even yuckier to think now than the first time.

“I just need to pick up a prescription.” Then a joke slips out because my nerves are on fire. “Lube gets delivered to my house.”

He lets out a low chuckle, and something genuine flickers across his face. “Right this way.”

He steps behind the counter, his hands folded, posture all dominance and charm. Shelves and baskets full of tiny white bags line the wall, each one a reminder of how many times I’ve stood in a line like this, hoping for a little extra time on this earth. My pulse spikes.

“What’s the name?”

“Lara Young.”

He turns and pulls my basket without a glance, but his fingers pause at the label. His jaw tightens, and when he glances back up, there’s a softness there I didn’t expect at him seeing the medication I take. Of course, he’ll know what it’s for.

“I hope these are working out for you.”

“Yeah…” My voice cracks. “It’s a miracle drug.”

“Good to hear.” He taps the register, keys beeping like alarms in my head. He pauses for a beat, looking at the floor. “Would you… would you maybe want to go line dancing at the Cantina Tuesday night?”

An unexpected laugh bubbles up. “Line dancing?” My eyes dart to Gabriel, arms crossed by the door, jaw set like stone, sunglasses on indoors like a hitman. He’s heard every word. I know it.

Trent leans forward, tone serious now. “I thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

“He’s not,” I whisper very, very softly.

But the answer feels like a lie.

“Do you want one?” His question is surprisingly gentle, an edge of vulnerability in it that makes me feel for him because I know where this is going.

Yeah, I do want a boyfriend.

Just not him.

“Just… the prescription today, please.” I offer a crooked smile. “But thanks for the invitation.”

He shrugs, rings me up. But before he hands me the bag, he scribbles something on the receipt. “Call me if you change your mind,” he says, slipping it inside. His eyes linger.

I force a smile. “Thanks.”

In another life, I might have said yes. Men like Trent have helped me forget the ache of wanting more for many years.

But that night at the bar with Gabriel, it was such a simple conversation, but we tore each other open, and now I can’t go back.

Now I want more than I’ve let myself have.

I want him.

I turn, pulse hammering. Gabriel stands by the door. The tension rolling off him is palpable, like a match burning too close to gasoline.

I slip the prescription in my tote, along with the receipt, hoping he didn’t see.

But wishing for Gabriel to miss a beat is futile. He’s seen everything.

And he’s not going to let it slide.