Page 10

CHAPTER 10

KNOX

I’ve never had trouble focusing on my job before.

Never in the Army, when a lapse in attention can be the difference between life and death.

On the job site, I’ve always prided myself on my attention to detail, double and triple checking each project before completion to make sure it’s absolutely perfect.

And as a member of Green Mountain Guardians, my concentration has never wavered. I’ve always taken our cases as seriously as I would any of my missions.

I always found it easy to shut everything else out.

But now I’m realizing it was because I didn’t have something even more important to think about.

Or rather, someone .

Since the day I met her, Lark’s had my attention. And the longer I’ve known her, the more she’s occupied my thoughts.

I’d walk past a store and something in the window would remind me of her—books by her favorite author, the dark chocolate truffles she mentioned craving a few days prior, or even a new shovel to replace her cracked and battered one.

But since that kiss?

We’ve shared dozens more in the three days since then, but I think I’ll always remember our first above all the rest.

That kiss.

After months of denying what my heart wanted, of playing it safe, of letting my insecurities control me, the first time I kissed Lark…

It was everything .

It was difficult to compartmentalize before. And now? I can’t stop thinking about her.

Which is probably why I’ve been staring at the weekly schedule for the last however-many minutes without actually registering anything.

But considering Lark would probably prefer that her—boyfriend? Is it too soon for that?—be gainfully employed instead of letting his business fall to ruin because he can’t stop thinking about how soft her lips are, I really need to get my head back in the game.

“Hey, Knox. Mrs. Adamson has another request.”

Looking up from my clipboard, I see Pete loping toward me, an amused expression on his face.

Bracing myself for what I’m guessing is a request Mrs. Adamson’s neighbors won’t be thrilled about, I say, “Sure. What is it?”

“Well.” His lips twitch. “She just asked if we’d be able to enclose the lookout deck and add heat to it. Because she doesn’t want to be cold while she’s looking at the”— he makes quotes with his fingers—“ stars during the fall and winter.”

I barely stifle a laugh as I look up to the second story, where two of my guys are putting the finishing touches on the platform for the deck. We don’t usually do roof work during the winter, but Mrs. Adamson offered to pay extra and said she didn’t mind the job taking longer than normal, so I agreed. “It’ll cost her at least twice what she’s already paying.”

“I know. But I wasn’t going to tell her that.” Pete grins. “That’s your job.”

“I’ll talk to her. And let her know if we go forward with the enclosure, it’ll add at least a month to the job. We’re due to start the kitchen renovations at Breakfast Bliss next week.”

Pete reaches into the truck bed and grabs his thermos, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip of the steaming liquid. “How long before you want to break for lunch?”

“As soon as the planks are all down. And after lunch, I’d like to try and get the railing started. Looks like snow toward the end of the week, so if we can wrap this up?—”

My phone buzzes, going off in the signature pattern I assigned to all my Guardian teammates. “Hang on. I just have to check this.”

“No problem.” Pete takes another sip, sighing as he adds, “Thank God for coffee.”

In the moments it takes to pull out my phone and check the message, fear clutches my chest. What if something’s wrong with Lark? What if something happened to her? I left her safe at the cabin this morning, with Enzo at the store and Ronan on guard duty, but what if?—

What if what ?

What if someone got onto the property? Somehow bypassed all our defenses and got to Lark? What if I promised she was safe and I failed her?

But as soon as I read Enzo’s message, all the air leaves me in a rush.

Police just called. They found the gunman. He’s dead.

And a second later.

I figured you’d want to be there when we tell Lark.

A grim smile lifting my lips, I quickly tap out my response.

I’ll be right there.

“Did you tell her the guy is dead?”

Turning toward Enzo, I reply, “No. I didn’t want to tell her over the phone. Hey, Lark. The man who shot you is dead.” Pausing, I add, “I just said they caught the guy.”

Which is true. I just didn’t say he was dead when the police found him.

Officer Quillian walks alongside us as we make our way up the path to the front door of Lark’s cabin. He flashes me a little smile before saying, “Well. It is good news, at that. It’s definitely the guy in her house. And given the evidence—” He stops. “Anyway. We can discuss all that inside.”

It is good news. Not that I would normally rejoice about someone being dead, but in this case, I think it’s acceptable. The asshole fucking shot Lark. Tried to kill her.

I wish I could have killed him myself, honestly.

As we walk onto the porch, Enzo asks, “You told her we were coming, right?”

“Of course.” I pull out my phone and send Lark a quick message, letting her know we’re outside. Once it’s sent, I add, “I said it would be me, you, and someone from the Bliss PD.”

“Well, she should be relieved,” Officer Quillian says. “We should be able to wrap up the case and have Lark back to her normal life soon.”

“I’m sure,” I tell him as my gaze wanders to the cheerful ribbons on the windows and the ropes of lights twined around the porch railing. Once Lark gets back to her place, I’ll have to help her decorate again. Maybe this time, we can wander through the woods and pick a tree to cut down. Unless she wants to bring the one here; I could pack up all the ornaments and load the tree onto the back of my truck. And we could have another special day of decorating?—

Lark opens the door, her gaze going to mine immediately. Before she can say anything, I step forward, pulling her into my arms for a quick hug. She snuggles into my chest, the soft scent of her hair tickling my nose and her soft curves pressing against me.

Even though I’d prefer to just stand here, enjoying this perfect fit, logic tells me it’s below freezing out and we have two other people standing here. So I reluctantly release her and say, “Hey, sweetheart. You look beautiful.”

Lark smiles, her cheeks turning pink. “Thanks.” Then she glances at Enzo and Officer Quillian, and her smile falters for a second. “Hi, Enzo. And Officer Quillian. Come in.” Then she makes a little face. “Sorry, Enzo. That sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it? Inviting you into your own house.”

“It’s not silly,” Enzo replies. He pats her shoulder as he follows her inside. “Just because the cabin is on my property doesn’t mean it’s not your home while you’re here.”

As we walk into the living room, Enzo glances at the tree, then turns to me with a smirk. “Looks like I’m not the only one who ended up decorating.”

I catch Lark’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “It turns out decorating for Christmas is a lot more fun than I realized.”

She sneaks a look at me, pleasure brightening her gaze. “It is really fun, isn’t it?”

As we sit on the couch, Lark pressed up next to me, I lean close to her ear and whisper, “I especially liked the kissing part.”

Once we’re all seated, Officer Quillian pulls out a notebook and looks down at it, his expression sobering as he scans the writing inside.

Lark stiffens, and her fingers dig into mine. “It’s fine,” I murmur. “They caught the guy. So this is just information. Remember?”

But for the first time, I’m second guessing my decision not to tell Lark about the death right away. Will she be upset that I kept it from her, albeit only for half an hour or so? I just thought it was such jarring news, and to hear it out of the blue…

“So,” Officer Quillian starts, “first off, this is good news.” He looks at Lark. “We found the man who broke into your house.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“Yes. Considering your position when you shot him, the wound lines up perfectly. And the caliber of the bullet matches the one you fired from your gun. Ballistics will run an analysis to be sure, but I’m confident their findings will correlate with what we found.”

“So you located the bullet?” I ask. “Where?”

“There was no exit wound. So it was still inside the body.”

Shit. We just jumped into the whole dead part a lot faster than I thought.

And of course, Lark picks right up on it. “The body?”

Officer Quillian gives a brisk nod. “Yes. When we found Ivan Vinnetti—that’s his name—he was deceased.”

She jolts in surprise. “Dead?” Turning to me, she asks, “Did you know?”

“Just when Enzo texted me,” I reply. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. But I just wanted to be here when you found out. I’m sorry if I fucked up.”

Her lips flatten for a second. Then she exhales. “No. It’s okay. It’s not like you kept it a secret for days.”

Still. Now I feel kind of shitty about it. After all, if the positions were reversed… “I should have told you. I promise I won’t keep anything from you, even for a few minutes.”

“It’s okay, Knox.” She strokes my palm with her thumb. “I get it. But yeah, next time, just tell me. I can handle it. ”

Enzo coughs. With a hint of humor in his eyes, he asks, “Can we continue?”

“Yes, sorry.” I gesture at Officer Quillian to go on. “No more interruptions.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. “So. Vinnetti was found in the woods about two miles north of your property. A hunter was out scouting with his dog and came across the body.” With a frown, he adds, “We searched the area ourselves, but somehow we missed him.”

Enzo leans forward. “How long has he been dead? Do you know what killed him?”

“Forensics says about two weeks. So it would have been right after the break-in.” Officer Quillian’s gaze flickers to me before he continues, and a trickle of unease runs down my neck. “Given the blood loss and lack of other injuries, the coroner believes the cause of death was the gunshot wound Vinnetti sustained.”

Lark sucks in a sharp breath. “ I killed him?”

“He died because of an untreated gunshot wound,” he corrects. “The coroner said if Vinnetti had gotten immediate medical attention, he would have survived.”

“But the police would have been called,” Enzo says. “And that asshole knew he would have been caught.” He glances at Lark. “ You didn’t kill him. His choices did.”

Lark’s hand trembles in mine. “But he wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t shot him.”

“But you would have been,” Officer Quillian says. “There’s no question it was self-defense. And Enzo’s right. It didn’t have to be a life-threatening wound. Prompt medical attention would have saved that man’s life. ”

Tears are welling up in Lark’s eyes, but she blinks them back.

My stomach twists into a knot.

Wanting to get through this, I ask Officer Quillian, “So you’ve identified this guy. Have you found a motive? Alec poured through all of her present and previous contacts, and he still hasn’t found anyone with motive to want Lark hurt.”

“Yes.” His expression grows even more somber. “Once we identified Vinnetti, we searched his apartment in Hyde Park. It looks like he was obsessed with her. Photos, information about her home, her work schedule, even her commute.”

Lark clutches my hand. Her pulse flutters at the base of her neck. “He was watching me?”

Officer Quillian nods. “Apparently. And some of the photos were… Well. He was angry that you never noticed him. He wanted to punish you.”

Rage swells up inside me so quickly I’m breathless with it. I nearly crack a molar trying to keep it all in.

“But you believe he acted alone?” Enzo asks, as Lark sniffs quietly beside me.

“We’ll interview all of Vinnetti’s friends and family to be sure, but it appears so.”

Clasping Lark’s hand between mine, I meet Officer Quillian’s gaze. “So you believe it’s safe?”

He nods. “We’ll want to finish the investigation to be one-hundred percent sure, but yes. It looks like it.”

“Okay.” Enzo eyes Lark before lifting his chin at me. “I think we’re all set for now, then. Right? We can follow up with more information as needed?”

Officer Quillian stands. “Yes. We’re good for now. Either myself or Officer Nelson will be in touch when we learn more.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Enzo rises from his seat. As he looks at me, understanding darkens his eyes. “We’ll just let ourselves out.”

In an achingly tiny voice, Lark says, “Thank you, Enzo. And Officer Quillian. I’m sorry I’m not—” Her voice cracks.

“It’s fine,” they both reply in unison as they make a beeline for the door. Just before he leaves, Enzo says, “Call me if you need anything.”

I give him a quick chin lift. “Will do.”

As soon as the door closes behind them, I turn all my attention to Lark. Her face is drained of all color, and her teeth are digging roughly into her lower lip. As she looks at me, her eyes are glassy with tears.

“I killed someone,” she whispers, agony twisting her delicate features. “Oh, Knox. I killed someone.”

“Oh, sweetheart. No.” Lifting her onto my lap, I hug her close as I croon, “No, you didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She jerks her head up. “How can you say that? A man is dead because of me.”

The tears finally escape, running silently down her cheeks. She shudders in my arms, shaking as she tries to hold her sobs in.

My chest feels carved out. Aching.

As Lark buries her face in my neck, I stroke her hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head. Her voice is tortured as she says, “I feel so guilty .”

Oh.

My poor songbird .

She has nothing to feel guilty about.

I let her cry for a few minutes, until most of her tears have dried up. Then I readjust her in my lap, gently lifting her chin so she looks at me. “Lark. I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Pink-eyed, she blinks at me. “Okay.”

“You know what I did in the Army. Not the details, obviously, but you know the general idea, right?”

Chin quivering, she nods. “Yes.”

“I had to kill people. You know that, too.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Shock widens her eyes. “No. Of course not. You were protecting our country.”

“Lark.” I soften my tone. “You were protecting yourself. As much as I hate even saying it, if you hadn’t shot him, he could have killed you. He almost did.”

“But…”

“If this happened to anyone else, if another woman was stalked—yes, that’s what it was—and woke up to find an intruder in her house, one who shot her, and she had a way to defend herself, what would you tell her?”

Lark swallows hard. “I’d tell her to defend herself.”

“Right.” Pausing, I kiss the damp spots on her cheeks, then brush a kiss across her salty lips. “You did the right thing. And think about it. If he went after you, he could have done it to other women, too. Could have killed them. So you weren’t just defending yourself. You were protecting them.”

“Do you really think that?”

“I do.” Holding Lark’s gaze, I tell her gently, but firmly, “If I’m not a bad person for what I did, neither are you.”

She stares at me for several long seconds before she says quietly, “I know you’re a good person, Knox. So… I believe you.”

Oh.

My heart.

As she curls into my chest, tucking her head back beneath my chin, I have to blink back my own threatening tears. “You’re more than a good person, songbird. You’re brave and smart and wonderful. And every day I feel lucky to have met you.”