Page 33 of Guarded Knight

“What?” he says again, like I’m the unreasonable one. “Freya’s gorgeous. Sue me. It’s not like I’m getting dog tags with her name on them.”

I shake my head and push through the door.

Inside, the apartment is quiet. Sunlight spills through the windows, catching dust motes in the air. Everything is too still.

Freya’s already in the kitchen, fussing with the coffeepot like she’s hosting brunch, not two guys already holding takeaway cups. Lara’s nowhere in sight, but the faint whoosh of the shower and her animated, off-key singing carries from behind the bathroom door.

Despite the serious start to my morning, Lara’s joy tugs at the corner of my mouth. She’s always done that to me—lit up the worst days with something as simple as her laugh, her voice. Hearing her now, carefree and unguarded, makes me ache for every year I went without it.

Anton drops into the armchair by the bookshelf and stretches out like he owns the place. “So when are you going to ask her?”

I fold my arms. “Not until I know more.”

“We’re not going to know more until we ask,” he says flatly.

He’s right. I know he’s right. But the thought of sitting Lara down and asking if she handed over a key to an unhinged maniac? It feels like a betrayal. Like reopening a wound just as it’s starting to clot.

Freya hands him a mug. “Cream or sugar?”

“Black’s good. Thank you.” He takes it with a nod, despite already having one in his hand.

He gives her a look that’s a little too steady for first thing in the morning.

Shit.

Anton’s still watching her as she moves back to the sink. “Nice place.”

“It’s temporary,” she says. “But it’s got charm. And Gabriel’s been a good couch decoration.”

“I bet he has,” Anton somehow both agrees and mocks me at the same time.

I cut in before things get off track. I’m not here to flirt. I’m not here to see if I can graduate from the sofa to Lara’s bed. I’m here to do a job I promised my best friend I’d do.

“We need evidence. We’ve got to do this outside the box.”

The shower turns off, and Lara hits a high note which sounds even louder without the water running. Even off-key, her voice tilts my world.

God, the last thing I want is for her to be bait in our entrapment plan. We need evidence on Cameron.

Anton places both his coffees on the side table. “We could potentially get his cell records, I mean, besides the burner phone. If we ask GhostEye for more help, this will move faster. The problem we have now is that Cameron having an alibi has taken away probable cause. So will Callum still write the order for GhostEye?”

I already called in the favor with Callum, Chief of Police here in Echo Valley, to legally allow GhostEye to poke around Cameron’s digital footprint.

“We still have reasonable suspicion for breaking and entering. I’m sure Callum will extend permission. Hopefully Rio has bandwidth for this because Enzo and Ava left for Tahiti, and their guys are slammed in San Francisco.”

Anton gives a faraway smile, probably thinking about Ava finally living out her travel dreams, before getting back on track. “Good. I’ll review the CCTV this afternoon. I also have doorbell camera footage from both Lara’s and Cameron’s neighbors in Santa Fe.”

“How do you charm your way into these gifts?” I smirk.

Anton is about six-five, built like an ox, and probably scary to the naked eye, but I have a feeling, as I’ve seen around Ava and now Freya, he can turn into a teddy bear instead with the click of his fingers.

He winks. “I use the magic word.Pleaseworks like a charm.”

At that moment, Lara walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. White, too short, tucked just above the swell of her chest. Her long blonde hair is wet and clinging to her skin that is still flushed from the heat of the shower.

My body reacts before my brain catches up.

A slow, hot surge punches me low. It’s not just the towel. It’s her. Bare. Real. Still damp and glowing like she stepped out of every goddamn fantasy I used to have about her… and a few I never let myself imagine.