Page 37 of Guarded Knight (Echo Valley #3)

I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing in here, but I can’t make myself leave.

I watch Lara cross the room and help herself to a Navy hoodie I’d left folded over the back of my chair in the corner.

She climbs into bed. My bed. She pulls up her knees and tucks them in under the oversized sweatshirt.

She drowns in it, and for a moment, I’m eighteen again, watching her laugh in the firelight, thinking maybe she’d be mine someday.

My feelings for Lara have always been complicated.

One part protective. One part friend. One part desire.

Or maybe two or three parts, depending on where my raging hormones were at and how funny she’d been that day.

One thing was for sure: the most important thing to me when it came to Lara was not losing her.

And I risked that once.

Twice. Hell, has it been three times now?

I broke the rules, but unlike years ago, she’s letting me off easy.

Her hair falls across my pillow like she’s been here forever. Like this is her bed. Her room. Her place in the world.

And hell if my chest doesn’t ache to make it so.

I cross to the window, inspect the latch, then double-check the door. I don’t expect trouble tonight, not with the amount of security in this house and on the property, but habits die hard. I lock the bedroom door.

The soft click echoes louder than it should.

Lara watches me from the bed and breaks the silence. “Are you locking the door because you think Kevin’s coming to get you, or because you think I am?”

A corner of my mouth twitches. “Bit of both.”

She huffs a laugh, but it fades almost instantly. Her arms stay wrapped tight around herself as if she’s holding in more than just the chill.

I sit on the edge of the bed, keeping some space between us. Not because I want to. Because I have to.

“You okay?” I ask.

She gives a short nod. But her eyes don’t meet mine.

She swallows, staring toward the dark ceiling. “I thought it was Cameron. For weeks, I let myself believe it was him because… I could understand him. You know? That kind of selfish, sleazy guy, I’ve met him before. I could handle that.”

I don’t interrupt.

“But now,” she whispers, “I don’t know anything.”

Damn, I want to reach for her. “You’ve got people in your corner.”

The words hang between us, stretching the space tight.

Then there’s something new and raw behind her eyes. “Are we going to talk about it?”

I know exactly what she means, and it isn’t Cameron or Kevin or any of the storms we’ve been caught up in.

She wants to talk about us. I draw a slow breath and rest my elbows on my knees. The ache in my ribs has nothing to do with the day’s tension and everything to do with her.

“You want to?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Her laugh is humorless. “I can’t stop thinking about it.” A beat. “Do you regret it?”

Her question is natural but somehow disgusts me at the same time. “I don’t regret anything. Do you?”

I rub a hand across the back of my neck. I didn’t feel like she was regretful…

“No. Not at all.” She takes my hand in hers and teases. “This time was a lot better than the barn.”

I palm my face. “I will never live that down.”

“Oh, Gabriel, I’ve been waiting years to have this kind of dirt on you.”

She shifts closer to me on the bed, and she grabs my hand. Her eyes are wide and waiting, but waiting for what? For me to say that we’re cool? To claim her? To tell her that being inside her was the single most spiritual experience I’ve ever had?

I settle for something that draws a line. We can’t do this again, even if I want to. “Whatever this is between us, Lara, it’s not casual. It never has been. I always thought we were supposed to end up together.”

She squeezes my hand. “Me, too.”

“But wanting you and being ready for you aren’t the same thing,” I admit. “I didn’t want to be the guy who took what he wanted without thinking about what came next.”

I can’t stop myself. I reach over, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger too long. I want her so badly, I think I might tear in two if I stay in this room.

“You scare the hell out of me, Firefly.” I kiss the back of her hand. “The man I once was is here in your eyes. I want to dive back into being that guy with my entire fucking soul. I don’t ever want you to think I don’t want this. Or you.”

But I’m not ready, maybe I’ll never be, and she doesn’t have time to waste on me.

She leans into my touch, eyes closing for the smallest beat.

“You don’t have to protect me from you,” she murmurs. “I know who you are.”

“No,” I’m gentle as I can be about this topic. “You know who I was. I’ve changed. War changes people. And it’s supposed to. It would be sick if it didn’t.”

“You don’t have to hide any of it from me.

We’ve never really talked like this, but it doesn’t make me like you less to know you’re not okay.

” She laughs lightly. “You know what my dad told Xander when he got married? He said if you really want to know someone, be there when things go to hell. You’ve always been there when things were hellish for me.

I just… I know you think you’re different but you’re not. You’re still the same person.”

“I feel the same when we’re together. But that’s what’s so dangerous about this whole thing. It’s… a bandage.”

“How do we know it’s not the cure? For both of us?”

Her skin is warm, her touch steady. Like she’s not afraid to hold me, even if I’m broken and if she catches the wrong edge, she might bleed. I never want to hurt her, and I’ve pushed everyone away for years.

“I don’t think either of us knows what this is,” she says. “But whatever it is… we’ve both admitted it isn’t a mistake.”

I nod once, because I can’t speak. My throat’s too tight.

She squeezes my hand. “We don’t need a label.”

I look down at our hands. Her fingers are curled into mine like they’ve always belonged there. I don’t answer because I don’t want to say I can’t handle the gray area. I don’t want to leave her without answers.

She understands my silence perfectly, as she always has.

“You never have been good with uncertainty.” Her smile is sad and sweet at the same time. “In that way, we are so different, Gabriel Mendez.”

“You’re my one sure thing, Firefly.”

She doesn’t flinch. Not even a flicker. Like she’s already factored in every sharp edge and decided I’m worth the risk. Her thumb strokes across my knuckles, steady, grounding.

“Then let me decide to protect myself if I need it. Freedom and peace and all the things you say I should have aren’t worth a damn if I don’t get to choose.”

She shifts, closing the space between us until her knee brushes mine. Her voice is softer now, almost playful. “You’re not protecting me by keeping your distance. You’re just punishing both of us.”

Not being near her feels like exactly that. Like I’m punishing myself, I just never thought it held the same weight for her.

“Grab the light.” She pats the bed next to her. “I want you here.”

I take off my jeans, leaving my t-shirt on, and switch off the light, and the warm yellow light is now replaced by a bath of moonlight.

I crawl under the covers without asking twice, expecting us to sleep platonically, but she snuggles up to me and rests her head under my collarbone and over my racing heart.

She exhales, the sound feathering across my chest like she’s been holding it in all night. “See? Not so scary.”

I wrap my arm around her because there’s no way I’m not holding her tonight if that’s what she needs.

Who am I kidding? I need this.

I should be relieved. Grateful, even, that after succumbing to my greatest desire yesterday, she and I are still somehow… okay. Better than okay. I should be able to relax.

But now all I can feel is the pressure building in my chest.

Her fingers keep shifting, tiny movements against my ribs, like she’s grounding herself.

Or me.

She murmurs, “You said you weren’t uncertain about me.”

My breath catches. “I’m not.”

“So what the hell is stopping us?” she asks into the dark room, and it almost seems to ask it back.

“We talked about that.”

“I know, and it makes sense on paper, but it doesn’t make sense in my heart.” She tilts up her chin. Her breath is hot on my neck now, sending blood racing down to my groin.

“Does it make sense to you?”

I can’t lie. “Not at all.”

“Maybe we just have to feel our way through it…” She runs her hand down the length of my abs and rests her hand just above the elastic of my boxer briefs.

“I don’t know how to be around you without wanting everything.” My voice is raw.

She glides her finger just under my shorts, and my cock is instantly thick so near her.

“Fuck, Lara…” I swallow hard.

“I’ve never been good at not going for what feels right.” She brings her lips to my earlobe. “You just feel so damn right, Gabriel.” She wraps her leg over mine. “Do I feel right?”

“If I start thinking about what I want,” I rasp, “I’ll forget what’s good for you.” Despite the truth in my words, my body can’t resist, and I take her hand and guide it over my now stiff cock. I shouldn’t be doing this, but fuck, she destroys me.

She takes my dick in her hand, relieving some of the ache.

I am mindless around her. “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow knowing I took more than I should’ve.”

Her thumb circles lazy patterns over the head of my cock, like she’s already decided what’s hers. She coaxes. “You’ve never taken anything from me I didn’t want to give. Don’t start doubting that now.”

My chest caves under the weight of her certainty. She’s not afraid of the ruin I carry, not afraid of the cost. She just keeps holding me like I’m worth it.

Her touch is divine, and I try to remind myself of all the reasons to say no, all the reasons I shouldn’t be using her hand for pleasure… But she’s here. In my bed. In my life. And she’s not asking me for promises. She’s just asking me to let her decide for herself how this goes.

Should I control the narrative and punish us both?