Page 104 of Mountain Protector

“Sweetheart, I know.” I press my lips to her forehead. “I’m just glad you’re—” My voice catches. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” she whispers. “It was scary. But I’m okay.”

Fuck. I could have lost her.

With Gage standing guard over Mrs. Vinnetti, I slide the Sig into my waistband. Then I gather Lark into my arms and breathe in her soft scent, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “You scared me, too,” I admit. “But you were so brave. And I’m so proud of you.”

She tilts her head back to look at me. “I didn’t feel brave. But I knew you’d come.”

I never believed in miracles before.

I thought they were just something people made up to explain the unexplainable.

But right now, holding the woman I love in my arms, I know miracles are real.

“I’ll always come for you, songbird.”

“I know.” Lark snuggles into me, tucking her head beneath my chin. “I love you, Knox.”

Oh.

As more cars pull up outside, sirens still blaring, I bury my face in Lark’s silky hair.

My eyes go damp.

“I love you, Lark. With all my heart.”

CHAPTER 23

LARK

There’s nothing like Christmas in Vermont.

As we make the drive back home from Enzo’s house, a swathe of stars lights up the night sky, reflecting softly off the snow-capped mountains and trees coated in a crystalline white. The road is quiet, with only our headlights cutting through the dark. Inside the truck, “White Christmas” is playing, as Knox hums along with the melody.

When I lived in Montpelier, the stars weren’t as bright. And during my years at Columbia, I couldn’t see them at all. There was never this absolute silence, when the only sounds were the ones you made yourself. I didn’t feel the same sort of peace as I do here, in the Green Mountains, driving through the woods I’ve come to call home.

This is, by far, the best Christmas I’ve ever had.

Waking up on Christmas morning with Knox, opening presents and having a breakfast picnic on thefloor in front of the fireplace. Enjoying some sexy Christmas time—no sex yet, thanks to my dumb concussion, but we found plenty of other, safe things to do. Like cuddling naked and kissing each other all over and then that magical thing Knox does with his tongue that makes my limbs turn to jelly.

Then my dad’s house, where he and Knox refused to let me do anything other than sit on the couch while they took care of everything. Which wasn’t necessary; I’m really feeling much better, but Knox and my dad seemed like they were bonding over the whole thing, so I went with it.

We opened presents and stuffed ourselves with roast beef and potatoes and my dad asked Knox approximately a hundred questions about home repairs and improvements. Which is funny, because my dad isnota handy guy, and he usually ends up hiring someone to do any kind of work around the house. But he was so excited to have something to talk to Knox about, and by the time we left, my dad had an entire plan outlined to build custom shelves for his office by himself.

Somehow, I don’t think they’re going to turn out as intended. But it’s cute that my dad wants to try.

“I’m not sure how well it’ll go,” I say, glancing over at Knox. “With my dad’s plans for the bookshelves. We might have to offer some help.” Pausing, I amend, “Well. Not me. I wouldn’t be very helpful. But you.”

In profile, Knox’s face is mostly in shadow, the light from the sky catching the angles of his cheekbones and nose. As he glances over at me, his lips curve into a smile, and his eyes crinkle up at the corners. “You don’tthink your dad will be able to build them? He seemed pretty confident about it.”

“No. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’s not very good at building things.” Laughing, I add, “He tried to make a doghouse for my stuffed dogs when I was eight. It looked like it would fall over if you breathed on it. But he tried.”

Knox squeezes my hand. “It’s nice that he made the effort even though he knew he wasn’t good at it.”

“Yeah.” Warmth fills my chest. “He was always good like that. He could have just bought me one. But I think he wanted me to know he cared enough to make it himself.”

There’s a pause before he responds, and for a second, I worry that I made him sad. That I reminded Knox of what he didn’t have as a kid. But then he says, “I’m glad. Your dad is a great guy. And he loves you a lot.”

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