Page 5 of Guarded Knight (Echo Valley #3)

We follow a narrow path, more like a crack between walls, to the side of the building where an old metal staircase leads up to a landing.

The railing is chipped, and when we arrive at the top, I can’t help but swoon at the lavender door.

Purple is my favorite color, so arriving home to a door like this has to be a good sign.

A little tin plaque reads 2B, and in this setting, it feels more like a question than an address.

Freya flips up the corner of the welcome mat to find the key, trustfully left by the owner, and hands it to me with a dramatic flourish.

“After you.”

I unlock the door, bracing for dust, stale air, maybe a spider or two. But what hits me first is sunshine.

Natural light floods the apartment from a trio of arched windows facing the main street.

It’s small, but not in a suffocating way.

More like cozy with opinions like my Auntie Glenda.

The ceilings are low and sloped, just like Xander apologized for since there isn’t much room for bookshelves, but there’s character here.

Slanted walls, creaky floorboards, and a big, worn-in armchair that looks like it’s seen more books than bad decisions.

Freya steps in behind me, her smile blooming. “Oh, I love it.”

I let my purse drop onto the overstuffed sofa. “It’s… not terrible.” How will I ever leave?

The kitchen is barely more than a corner, but the backsplash is a cheerful blue tile, and someone left a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter along with cookies like an Airbnb listing.

Freya opens the fridge and lets out a low whistle. “Damn. We’ve got enough cheese to survive the apocalypse.”

Naturally, Gabriel can’t resist turning even a fridge into a survival kit. He’s always been quiet, competent, and infuriatingly thoughtful.

I love cheese more than sunshine.

I guess he didn’t change much behind the wall I built, but I should have known that.

At my niece’s last birthday, he somehow showed up with the exact Lilo and Stitch Lego she wanted.

He wrapped the gift with too much tape, and she loved that just as much, giggling in fits of joyful frustration as she tried to open it.

Freya’s gasp pulls me back to the kitchen. “Oh! It’s those cookies you love!”

Freya takes up plastic wrap and sees a sugar hit. I see Gabriel’s fingerprints.

I wonder if G actually baked those from his mother’s recipe. My chest fills with all that damn emotion the distance used to make easier. How will I protect my heart if we have to be close enough to swap cookies?

Freya bites into one. “These are your favorite ones you got from the Mexican grocery store sometimes. What are they called again?”

“Espejo.”

My favorite dessert since I was nine, when Gabriel’s mom made them for my birthday and continued to make me a batch every birthday and when I was sick until she died.

The nostalgia hits me hard, not just for him, but for everything we were. Damn it. My heart is already being tenderized.

But his loyalty is to Xander, not me. He’s doing this all because Xander asked him to take care of me. I’m a job. A task.

But I eye the espejo and want to eat one. Badly. This man knows all my weaknesses.

I’m not here to reminisce. I have one job: to let Gabriel trap Cameron, get him arrested, and then move on with my life. My brother is ruthless, and when I suggested a restraining order, it wasn’t enough.

That’s the only reason we need the big guns and why I agreed to work with Gabriel. My brother has his girls and is now living thousands of miles away. My parents are not made for this task. Gabriel, for better or worse, will move heaven and earth to keep me safe.

I hate that I still believe that.

I saunter over to the kitchen to grab a cookie when I see the square of white, folded paper. My name is written in bold, all-caps letters.

It’s been years since I’ve seen Gabriel’s handwriting, and it almost knocks the air out of me. I used to love his birthday cards. He never wrote much, but they were always perfectly selected for that time of my life.

Behind me, Freya opens a cupboard, and the soft clink of glasses grounds me in the room, but I can’t turn away. She runs the faucet and takes a long, much-needed drink of water.

The note calls to me again. For a long time, I’ve kept him at a safe distance. Group settings. Quick non-verbal greetings.

But those days are over.

There’s no Xander, no nieces, no crowd between us now. He’s not a ghost in the corner of my past anymore. He’s cookies and kindness and memories I can’t outrun. They flood in and hit me straight in the gut.

“Ooh. Mystery fan mail?” Freya eyes the fruit bowl then snatches a tangerine.

I hesitate before picking it up, like touching it might summon him. His handwriting is unmistakable—no wasted flourishes. Direct. Steady. Like him.

Freya watches me carefully, and even in my peripheral vision, I see her lining up questions.

I pick up the note. It might as well be made of lead; it’s so heavy in my fingers. I pocket it. “That book club will start soon. Though I’d better call my mom and Xander first or they’ll panic.”

“We can be fashionably late.” She tosses a slice of fruit into her mouth and quirks an eyebrow. “He might be down there, you know.”

“Who?” I reek of casual avoidance.

She points to my pocket where the note burns a hole in my ass cheek. “Your secret admirer.”

I press my fingers to the edge of the paper and the weight of him is in the room, even though he isn’t here.

Freya leans against the counter. “If you don’t open it, I will.”

I roll my eyes, but the corner of my mouth lifts, and I take the note out with a feigned huff.

It’s short. Just Gabriel, in a few straight-shooting lines.

Fridge is stocked. Spare key is in the drawer.

Call if you need anything.

Or even if you don’t.

—G

My knees go wobbly, and I read it twice.

Why is he always so goddamn good? It’d be so much easier to forget how great he is if he’d stop being… well… great. My brother’s loyal friend, my mom’s surrogate son, my father’s fix-it buddy. He was always there to support, to catch me if I fell.

Freya peeks over my shoulder. “Ooh. What does he mean by even if you don’t?”

“Hey!” I flatten the note to my chest. “You’re sneaky,” I tease, as if I wouldn’t eventually share it with her. “He’s polite.”

Freya smirks. “I expected some hard-as-nails robo-man from the way you talked about him in the truck. He’s soft for you.”

He was. At least he used to be.

“And you?” She arches an eyebrow under her curls. “Are you soft for this Gabriel, too?”

“Maybe I downplayed how close we were. But that was then and this is now.”

“So you had a crush on your brother’s best friend? Cuuuuuute…” She sings it out like Beyoncé belting a high note.

I try so hard to act casual, more for myself than for Freya. I could tell her everything, that I once thought this man was crafted just for me, but I don’t want to open Pandora’s box. “Not cute, I’m afraid. The boy kissed and ran, so we turned out to be a cliché instead of a damn good trope.”

I slide the note into a drawer, but he’s already here. Not physically, but in the stillness. In the way the air tells me it’s okay to breathe again because I’m safe. In the way this place was made ready by someone who knows me better than I want him to.

I haven’t even seen him yet, and he’s already in every room I walk into.