Page 143 of Guarded Knight

She gazes up at me. “Then I dared you and then I said, ‘Okay, jackass, if you want to kiss me so much, do it.’ And I made you do it.”

That’s what she thinks?

I shake my head. “Before I shipped out, Rio told me to make a list, stuff to do before I belonged to Uncle Sam. I only had one thing on it.”

She lets her head fall on the pillow, and her blonde hair billows around her like a halo. Her lips look as ready to kiss as they did back then.

“That kiss was no accident, Lara.”

“All these years,” she says softly, “I thought I pushed you into it.”

“Not a chance. That was all me.”

She tilts up her chin, eyes never leaving mine. For a heartbeat I hesitate—she looks too pale, too fragile—but then she whispers, “Well, this one is all me.”

And I can’t deny her. Never again.

Our mouths crash together like we’ve been waiting years for this, because we have. There’s no hesitation, just history and hunger colliding. She tastes like everything I thought I’d lost. Her hands fist my shirt, anchoring me, and I kiss her back with all the years I spent convincing myself I couldn’t.

For one reckless, perfect moment, the future doesn’t matter. Not where she’ll live. Not how we’ll make this work. Just this. Just her.

When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers. Our breaths mingle, ragged and hot.

Her eyes flutter open.

“I love you,” I whisper, raw. “I’ll love you through swollen eyes and morning coughs and every future we can’t name.”

Her eyes glaze over. “Whatever you carry, I’ll carry. Just… don’t make me do it without you.”

For all the fear I had leading up to this, for every moment I thought it would be too much, fuck, what she survived today shows me she can handle anything life throws at us. We’ll handle it together.

Her hands slide up my chest, then tangle in my hair, and her lips meet mine again.

I slip my hand under the back of her hospital gown, not for more, but to feel her skin, warm and alive and mine. Her whole body shivers. She moans lightly into my mouth, and my control nearly fractures.

“I’m not leaving this bed,” I promise. “Or you.”

Just as I ease her back gently into the pillows, her hand gripping mine like a lifeline, the door creaks open behind me.

A throat clears.

“Am I interrupting something?” Xander’s voice is flat, dry, and deeply unimpressed.

“You are,” I say, not moving. “Come back tomorrow.”

Lara smothers a laugh as I press one last kiss to her forehead, and her hand tightens around mine like she’s never letting go.

38

Xander is standingin the doorway with features that could curdle holy water.

Arms crossed. Jaw clenched. Expression locked somewhere between “big brother fury” and “please be okay before I fall apart.”

Behind him, a nurse unabashedly runs her gaze up and down his six-foot-something wall of muscle before disappearing with a muttered, “Damn…” As is typical, he doesn’t notice.

Gabriel shifts back from our embrace but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“I guess I should’ve knocked,” Xander says flatly. “Apparently, you two are really comfortable ignoring boundaries.”