Page 56 of Mountain Protector

It’s bigger and more intense than anything I’ve experienced before.

I care about my teammates. I’d even say I love them.

But this.

Words can’t describe it.

“Songbird.” My voice is gruff. Thick. “I would love that.”

She leans forward, framing my face with her small hands as she meets my gaze. “I told you, I would doanything for you, Knox. Maybe I can’t take someone down with a bunch of crazy moves?—”

“It was just simple self-defense.”

“It looked pretty crazy to me. And anyway. I mean it. I know you’re this tough guy and you can take care of yourself, but… I want to take care of you, too.”

My nose prickles. I haven’t shed a tear since my father left, but somehow, Lark’s words… “Songbird.”

Lark presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I feel protective of you. I can’t explain it better than that. There’s just this feeling like… I can’t be happy unless you are.”

“Sweetheart.” I cup her nape, tunneling my fingers through her hair, and kiss her again. “I feel the same way.”

After a few seconds of silence, Lark says tentatively, with a hint of worry in her eyes, “This thing we have. It’s… special. Like we’re meant for each other. I’m not the only one feeling it, am I?”

My heart.

“You’re not the only one. This is special.You’respecial.”

And I think, for the first time in my life, I’m falling in love.

CHAPTER 13

LARK

“Are you sure you’re okay with going out?”

Even though Knox has asked me the same question at least half-a-dozen times since he got here, I still smile as I tell him patiently, “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pockets his phone and comes over to stand beside me, watching for a moment as I transfer all my things from my winter handbag to my holiday one. A puzzled V forms between his eyes. “Why are you switching bags?”

“Because it’s Christmas.”

“Um.” The V gets deeper. “I’m not sure I understand. The blue bag you’ve been using seems fine. Do you need a new one?” He perks up. “Do you want a new bag for Christmas? We could go to that new store in Bliss. The one with all the weird-looking mannequins in the window. And you could pick one out for me to get you for a present.”

A beat later, he adds, “Actually. You could pick out a few. That way I can buy one and it’ll still be a surprise.”

He’s so cute.

Setting my little makeup pouch aside, I turn to Knox. Using his shoulders for balance, I go up on my tiptoes so I can press a quick kiss to his lips. “There’s nothing wrong with either of these. But this bag”—I gesture at the deep blue leather one—“I use in the winter. Because it’s dark. And it has more room than my summer ones, so I can fit my gloves and a hat inside it.”

Knox loops his arm around my waist as he inspects the two bags with a narrowed gaze. “So what makes the other one a Christmas bag?”

“Well.” I grab my wallet and slip it inside the cranberry-colored bag. “It’s a Christmassy color. So it makes me feel more festive when I have it with me.”

“Oh. So the color matters.”

“Yes.” I give him another kiss. “The color is important. So in the spring, I use one that’s a brighter color. And in the summer, a pastel shade.”

“So in the fall, you would use something like… orange? For pumpkins and leaves?”

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