Page 26 of Guarded Knight

“We’re taking you up on working at Monarch Hills today if that’s okay,” I say flatly. “I’m not doing it for you. Freya wants to see the horses.”

I might have said the last bit more for myself than for him. After all, his five o’clock shadow wraps around his full lips in a way that makes me question whether I’m blaming Freya just to save face.

His mouth twitches. “Copy that.”

Gabriel one. Lara zero.

He knew the minute Freya invited him in last night he’d be able to use her to manage my whereabouts. She is a weak spot for me. I only have one brother, and she’s been the sister I never had, not to mention a kindred spirit. For as different as we can be personality-wise, a lot of our wounds and fears are wired from the same sickly childhoods. We get each other. And we both truly understand that life is too short and every day is a gift. I like to make her happy just as she does me.

The moving van got picked up last night, and Freya’s car hasn’t been transported here yet. I sold my Vespa so neither of us are able to drive over to Monarch Hills.

But I don’t need to explain this to G.

Sigh.I’m sure he knows everything. He makes details his business.

He starts the engine. “Hop in.”

It’s not a long drive to Monarch Hills, only a couple of miles, walkable if you have the time, and the tree-lined streets of ponderosa pine along the way are not only gorgeous but remind me both of vacation and of home.

Before long, we pull up in front of tall, wrought-iron gates and two stud-muffin guards on either side like pillars. Gabriel gives them a salute, and one goes into a small gatehouse.

The gates open slowly as if unfolding fate before us. It’s all very grand in a way that the Mendez ranch back in Starlight Canyon wasn’t, and yet, Monarch Hills, despite being some sort of Western Kennedy compound, doesn’t have the feel of a wealthy man’s pet project.

Despite the opulent gate and immaculate Spanish-style matching houses we pass, there’s an inviting feel about the ranch. I know from Xander all but Gabriel’s sister, Shay, live here now.

I’m happy for the Mendezes. They went through a lot losing their matriarch, Carmen, and Luis went through the darkest time you might wish on a person. He lost his wife, all of his children were away from home at that time, and to top it off, that was a very, very scant two years for ranchers.

As we drive around the private roads, it certainly has a warm sense of a place where people come to heal. Luis sure seemed healed last night, and maybe then some, because he spent a lot of time chatting over cookies and offered to drive a beautiful sixty-something woman named Julia home since she’d had too much of that sangria.

Everyone deserves love. I hope Luis finds it again.

Freya sighs next to me. “Damn, Lara… I could get used to this.”

“I thought you said you’d never live anywhere smaller than Santa Fe?”

“We don’t know what we don’t know…” She presses her forehead against the window with the whimsy I love in her.

It’s true. Monarch Hills has a vibe to it. Still, for me, there’s something disarming about being surrounded by so much open space. It makes it harder to keep things in.

My gaze lands on the back of Gabriel’s neck, touchable tanned skin with that dark, sexy hairline. He’s still a perfect ten. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good he still looks last night. It’s going to be hard to keep putting mortar between the bricks in my wall, when in addition to still being hot as hell with rock-hard biceps any woman would want to curl up in, he’s also living up to my best friend’s fantasies right before my eyes.

The sigh she let out upon realizing he wasn’t still on the couch this morning was the same that passed through my system, I just didn’t let it out.

Because boundaries are easily destroyed by swoony men with a face carved by God and muscles like his.

I need the boundaries and zero reasons to stay. I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone be responsible for me but me.

Gabriel parks near a low building I assume is the stable office, close to the barn, the stables, and just beyond them, a stretch of green paddocks and what looks like a racetrack. Xander told me G’s brother, Santi, has become a world-class breeder. Good for him making use of his talent with horses. I always thought that guy might die in the dirt at a rodeo with a ring of women around him crying streams of black mascara tears.

Before I can fully take in the expanse of barn roofs and split-rail fences, Freya’s already out of the truck and heading over to admire one of the thoroughbreds being trailed through the areaby a beautiful stable hand with long, dark hair and blue eyes, not much older than us.

She’s not like the cowboys back home. She’s stunning in that glossy, catalog way, and her dusty jeans cling to her hourglass curves like they were painted on. I glance at Gabriel, expecting him to be ogling the new scenery.

But his aviators are trained on me.

Heat flickers under my skin, unwelcome and far too familiar.

Freya approaches the woman and lifts her hand toward its muzzle. “May I? It won’t bite, will it?”