Page 4

CHAPTER 4

KNOX

It’s hard to keep my eyes off her.

I could tell myself it’s just because I’m worried, but that would be a lie.

Yes, I am concerned about Lark. How could I not be? Someone broke into her house and shot her less than twelve hours ago.

A man shot her. The doctors can say it’s a relatively minor wound and she’ll only end up with a small scar, but it doesn’t feel minor to me. Any injury would be terrible, but this?

It’s unacceptable.

As I bandaged Lark’s arm back at my house, biting my tongue to keep from cursing at the sight of her pale skin covered with blood, she told me how she ducked just before the gun went off, instinct telling her a moving target was better than a stationary one.

She was right.

But shit .

If she hadn’t moved…

Shit.

So the bullet wound—that still sounds so damn wrong—would be enough to make me worry. But on top of that, Lark was traumatized. I can’t even imagine the terror she must have felt, hearing the noise and going to investigate, coming face-to-face with someone intent on hurting her. Someone who shot her. Ran after her, at least as far as the edge of the woods, the police said.

“There was a quite a bit of blood,” Sage told us solemnly. “So we’re thinking that’s why the intruder didn’t give chase into the woods. He probably realized he needed to attend to his own wound, rather than trying to find Miss Weber in the dark.”

And poor Lark, she actually feels badly about shooting him, even though she was defending herself in a life-or-death situation. Before the ambulance arrived, she tearfully admitted, “I’ve never hurt anyone, Knox. I never dreamed… Shooting that man. And hearing him in pain… I know I had to. But I still feel horrible about it.”

I don’t. I wish she’d killed him. Or better yet, I wish I’d found the asshole and killed him myself.

“Knox?”

Glancing away from the road for a second, I shift my gaze to Lark. “What, sweetheart?”

Shit. Should I be calling her sweetheart? It just sort of slipped out in the woods, and now I can’t seem to stop.

But she doesn’t react, instead asking quietly, “Are you really sure it’s okay that I’m coming to stay here? ”

“I’m really sure. While you were spending some time with your dad, I talked to the team. They all agreed. GMG is the safest place for you to be.”

“GMG?” Before I can explain, she lets out a tiny snort. “Right. Of course. I suppose Green Mountain Guardians is a bit of a mouthful.”

I sneak another look at Lark, and this time my heart lifts to see a tiny smile curving her lips.

“A bit, yeah.” As we come to a stop sign, I turn and grin at her. “I like the name Enzo picked, but it’s a lot to say. So we’ve shortened it when we’re not talking to clients.”

A tiny line forms between her brows. “But aren’t I a client?”

Accelerating through the intersection, I take a moment to consider my response. Technically, Lark’s a client, since Enzo and the rest of the guys agreed to take on her case. But given that I know her, am friends with her… it doesn’t feel right to call her that.

“You’re more than a client,” I finally say. “We’re friends. I would protect you even if I wasn’t part of GMG.”

There’s a delay before she responds, long enough for me to worry I said something wrong. But then Lark touches my knee and gives me a soft smile. “I like that. More than a client.” After a beat, she adds, “I still feel bad about bringing my trouble to you?—”

“Lark.” My voice is gently stern. “I told you before. I was looking for you. So I was going to be a part of this, regardless.”

The driveway for the GMG property comes up on the right, and I slow to make the turn into it. “Please don’t feel bad, okay? And friends help each other out, right?”

Not that I’d ever do anything that could put Lark in danger, but that’s not the point.

“True.” As I sneak another glance at her, Lark turns to meet my gaze. “If you ever need anything, I’m here for you. Maybe not protector-bodyguard stuff, but I can do other things.”

“I know.” Pausing at the gate, I wait for the retinal scan and then punch in a complicated code to open it. Once we pull through and the gate closes behind us, I stop the car so I can give Lark my full attention.

“You have much more to offer than me,” I tell her honestly. “You’re incredibly smart. The things you’ve told me about investing and finances?—”

She makes a dismissive sound. “That’s not exactly thrilling, Knox.”

“I think it is. And you’re funny and resourceful and kind-hearted?—”

“Just because I didn’t want to put mouse traps out in the basement?”

“Yes, but also you spent all that time researching natural deterrents, and they worked. Most people wouldn’t bother. But you did. You saw a problem and found a gentler solution. I actually recommend the recipe you made to all my clients now.”

Lark stares at me for a second. Then she smiles, her face lighting up with it. The shadows in her eyes disappear and the lines of strain etched across her face smooth out. A flush of pink colors her cheeks. “Oh. You do?” Her smile stretches even bigger. “That’s awesome.”

And there it is .

The other reason I can’t stop looking at her.

Despite her obvious stress and exhaustion, Lark is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

She’s paler than usual, her freckles standing out in sharp contrast, but that doesn’t detract from the delicate line of her features and the rosy bow of her lips. As the sun streams through the car window, it catches glints of gold and emerald in her hazel eyes and reflects off the streaks of honey and cherry in her long, red hair. And her smile…

It’s breathtaking.

Men would slay dragons for it.

I think I would do anything to make Lark smile.

Unaware of my musings—thankfully—Lark changes the subject, asking, “So you built the cabins, right? If they’re anything like your house, they must be amazing.”

“I did.” As the car rolls forward again, I focus on answering her question and not the feelings I’m trying very hard to tamp down. “Now that we have snow on the ground, I’ll have to wait to start the next ones until late spring. I’m hoping to get two more done plus a building to use as headquarters by fall.”

“But Green Mountain—GMG, I mean—has only been open for about a month, right? How could you get two cabins built that quickly?”

“Well, once we decided to start the company, we all agreed it was really important to have a place for our clients to stay on the property. Enzo’s girlfriend, Winter, ran into some trouble over the summer, and she didn’t have anywhere to go at first. The police set her up at a motel, but it just… it didn’t seem safe. And Winter was scared there.”

“I don’t blame her. To be in a strange place, and a motel at that—” Lark cuts herself off. “I mean, it’s different from here. I’m not complaining.”

“I know you’re not. And I get it. Being here isn’t the same as being home.”

As we wind along the narrow gravel road through the GMG property, I gesture at one of the cabins. “That’s one of them. It’s the first cabin I built. To answer your question about finishing them so quickly, I took some time off work. Held off picking up a few jobs so I could bring some of my crew in on it. With six of us working, plus Ronan and Gage pitching in, we were able to get both cabins done in two weeks.”

Lark peers out the window as we pass the cabin. Her voice lifts with enthusiasm. “It’s so cute, Knox. I love the porch and the dormers. Both would be perfect for curling up with a good book.”

“That’s what Winter said,” I reply. “She loves reading, too.”

“Is the other one just like this?”

“Mostly. I made a few changes with the second one, upgraded some features, but it still has the porch and dormers.” With a side smile, I add, “I added a built-in reading bench in the main bedroom upstairs. So you can sit up there and read if you want.”

“Oh, Knox.” Her smile brightens. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see all of it.”

A minute later, we pull up in front of the second cabin, which I know has already been prepped for Lark. A wisp of smoke trails from the chimney, the porch and front walk are cleared of snow, and there’s even a cheery welcome sign hanging from the front door.

“Enzo and Winter came over earlier to get it ready,” I explain. “After they stopped by your house to pick up your things.”

Worry flickers across her face. “Are you sure they didn’t mind? After going to the hospital in the middle of the night, and then going to my house…”

I turn off the car and turn toward her. “They didn’t mind. I promise. And Winter is really excited to meet you. When you’re ready, of course.”

Lark nods. “I’d like to meet her, too.” She pauses, sagging a little. “But… maybe I could take a shower first. And a nap.”

“Of course. Maybe some food, too,” I suggest. “Since you didn’t eat in the hospital. You must be starving.”

“Um. I guess.” Twisting around, she tries to open the car door with her left hand, wincing as she does it.

“Lark.” I touch her shoulder gently. “Let me come around. Okay?”

For just a second, I can see her indecision—the little jut to her chin and the flare of determination in her eyes. The desire to do it herself wars with the reality of hurting herself in the process. Then she lets out a small sigh. “Okay.”

I’m doubly glad I offered because once Lark gets out of the car, she just stops, swaying slightly. The hand that’s still on the car door tightens as she fights for balance.

Sliding my arm around her waist, I say quickly, “Let me help you inside. I know you can do it yourself, but after such a long night… ”

Lark tilts her head up to meet my gaze. She gives me a tiny nod. “Thanks, Knox. I think… I’m just tired.”

But as we walk up the path to the cabin, she leans into me, giving me more of her weight. Giving me her trust to support her.

And that protective instinct comes roaring forward again.

What I want to do is scoop her into my arms and carry her inside, deposit her on the couch and insist on taking care of everything for her.

That might be a little weird after I emphasized the whole we’re friends thing, though.

Instead, I just keep my arm around her as we walk inside, watching her carefully in case she stumbles. But with each step, Lark seems steadier, though her jaw is set and her shoulders are tight from the effort.

As we enter the open living space, complete with a small dining area and kitchen, she exclaims, “Knox! This is amazing. I love it!”

Even though I’ve completed dozens of projects, none of them have filled me with the same sort of satisfaction as what I feel right now.

“I’m glad. I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

Her head on a swivel, she scans the room, her gaze lingering on the gas fireplace I installed last minute after hearing Lark talk about how much she loved hers. “And the fireplace,” she adds. “I’ll definitely be comfortable in front of that.”

“Good.” I guide her toward the couch and grab the fireplace remote sitting on the table in front of it. Flicking the power on, the flames burst to life, adding a warm glow to the room. “Down here we have the living space, obviously, a laundry room, and a half-bath. Upstairs, there are two bedrooms and a full bath. The bigger one has the bench in the dormer, and I think that’s probably where Winter left your things, but you can choose either room, of course.”

Lark looks up at me with an unreadable expression. After a brief pause, she says, “I’ll take the one with the bench.” She pauses. Swallows hard. “This is just… it’s beyond anything I imagined. With all this beautiful woodwork, and the cozy furniture, and the kitchen is just perfect with that butcher block counter—anyone would feel at home here.”

“That’s what I was hoping. I knew whoever came here would probably be stressed, maybe scared, so if this could help even a little…”

“It does.” She steps away from me, leaving me feeling oddly empty. But a second later, she takes my hand, slipping her slender fingers around mine. With a small squeeze, she adds, “I was worried about being in a strange place. Which isn’t like me, usually. But here… I feel better.”

Oh.

Just friends, remember?

Lark has never given any indication of wanting anything more.

But.

Have I done the same thing? Have I given Lark the same idea without really intending to?

Maybe, just maybe, she’s thought about more.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Lark announces. “Well.” She glances at her injured arm. “Maybe a bath. I’ll have to figure out how to keep the bandage dry. ”

Before I can stop myself, I warn, “And be careful of the heat. If you’re tired and feeling weak, the heat could make you dizzy.”

But instead of rolling her eyes or dismissing me, Lark nods. “You’re right. I’ll make sure it’s not too hot. I really just want to get clean and condition my hair so it’s not so tangled.”

“I think there’s a first aid kit in the kitchen somewhere. If we can find some plastic, we could cover your bandage with it and use medical tape to keep it on.”

“That’s a good idea.” She squeezes my hand again. “What would I do without you, Knox?”

Just friends?

Shit.

Now is not the time to explore the possibility of a relationship with Lark. She’s hurt, scared, exhausted, and dealing with a bunch of trauma. Plus, there’s a man out there who may be trying to kill her. She needs protection. Support. Friendship.

But half an hour later, when Lark settles onto the couch with a tired sigh, the shadows under her eyes even darker than before, and asks in a small voice, “Do you have to leave?” the last thing on my mind is friendship.

She looks so small and vulnerable and just so…

Shit.

This feeling is so much deeper than just being friends.

I want to slay dragons for her.

“No way,” I reply firmly, sinking down on the couch beside her. “I’ve got some soup warming on the stove, and there are ingredients for sandwiches in the fridge. Unless you’d like something else?”

Lark tucks her legs up against her chest as she turns to me. “You don’t have to cook for me, Knox.”

“What are you talking about? I’m hungry.” Patting her knee, I give her a teasing grin. “And I hate to eat alone. So what do you think? Soup? Sandwiches? I can make a decent grilled cheese.”

“What about work?”

“After the storm, I pushed everything to tomorrow. So I don’t have to go anywhere.” After a beat, I amend, “Well, I’ll meet with the rest of the team a little later. But that’s just at Enzo’s house. And I’ll come back right after.”

Lark stares at me, a cautious hope in her gaze. “You’re going to stay with me today?”

“I thought I would. In case you felt nervous being alone. And after your nap, we could watch some movies. Maybe one of those Hallmark holiday ones you mentioned?” A niggle of unease stirs in my belly. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

Lark blinks. Her eyes go damp.

Shit. Did I make her cry?

“I do.” She scoots over on the couch so she’s right next to me. “I would really like it if you stayed.”

Warmth fills my chest. “Okay. And what would you like to eat?”

“Whatever you like.” She pauses. “But first. Could I… would it be okay if I just got a hug? It’s okay if you don’t want?—”

“Of course.” And gently, being careful of her hurt arm, I wrap an arm around Lark and pull her against my chest.

On a soft exhale, she rests her head on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

Oh.

Shit.

My heart.

This feels like so much more than friendship.

Even though I probably shouldn’t, I press my lips to the top of her head. “You don’t have to thank me, Lark. I want to.”