Page 61 of Mountain Protector

I glance at my phone to check the time, making sure I’m not running late. But I still have plenty of time to make the short drive to Lark’s and get across town to make our reservation. Giving my teeth a final check—looks good, nothing stuck between them—I turn and leave the bathroom.

As I’m putting on my coat, I send Lark a quick text.

Hey, just about to leave. I’ll be at your place in five. Is that okay?

She must have been right by her phone, because her response comes in almost immediately.

Of course! I’m ready! Can’t wait to see you. It feels like it’s been ages.

I nod at my phone as I quickly reply.

I know. I can’t wait to see you, too.

It’s only been ten hours since I saw her, but it feels like much longer. Since she moved back into her house, we’ve fallen into a routine—I come over right after work to have dinner with her, then I spend the night onthe couch and we share a quick breakfast before heading to our jobs the next morning.

Do I need to stay over? No.

Do I want to? Yes. Not just because I feel better knowing she’s safe, or that I can be here to comfort her after a nightmare, but I just like being around Lark as much as possible. So I haven’t brought up going back to my place, and thankfully, she hasn’t, either.

Tonight I came home after work instead, so I could get ready and drive over to pick her up like an official date. But even the hour less I’ve seen her feels much too long.

I never would have imagined it. Me. Counting the hours, minutes until I see a woman.

By the time I arrive at Lark’s front door, my stomach is twisted in a knot. I haven’t felt this nervous since I was waiting to find out if I qualified for Green Beret training.

Wiping my damp palms on my pants, I take a steadying breath before ringing the doorbell.

There’s nothing to be nervous about. This is Lark. She won’t care if the date isn’t perfect.

But.

Should I have brought flowers? I didn’t think of it. Shit. I have a gift for later, but what good is that now?

Why am I so nervous?

Then the door opens, and all my worries fly out of my head.

It’s impossible to think of anything other than how beautiful Lark is.

She’s wearing a simple black dress that hugs her curves and dips just low enough to show a hint of cleavage.Her hair falls in long, shining waves in rich shades of crimson and copper and burgundy. More green than gold today, her eyes sparkle as she smiles at me, all lit up with happiness and anticipation.

“Knox.” Her smile gets even bigger. “You look so handsome.” Taking my hand, she pulls me inside. “Let me just get my coat?—”

“Wait.” As her eyes widen in question, I frame her face with my hands and press my lips to hers, not willing to wait another second to kiss her.

Lark’s eyes flutter shut as I trace the seam of her lips and dip inside, tasting peppermint and an indescribable sweetness that’s uniquely her. Her hands clutch my shoulders, hanging on while we kiss. A little purr of pleasure sounds in the back of her throat.

I lower one hand to the small of her back, nearly spanning the width of it. Pulling her against me, her breasts press temptingly against my chest, and I go hard, jutting against her belly.

We keep kissing, our tongues stroking and exploring and teasing. Need is building inside me, intense and insistent. I’m not just hard, but throbbing, my desire for her verging on pain.

Holding Lark like this is the most incredible feeling.

Kissing her. Hearing her tiny moans and whimpers of need. My skin on fire for her.

Instinct is telling me to scoop her into my arms and take her to the bedroom. To peel off this sexy little dress and find each and every freckle on her body, making sure to kiss each one of them. To dive between her legs and taste her there. And once she’s ready, to plungedeep inside her, finally coming together the way I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.

But we have a date. A special date. And besides that, while Lark has hinted that she’s ready to have sex, I’m not making any assumptions. I want to know for sure.

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