Page 99 of Mountain Protector

Rationally, I know it’ll get better. In time, the terrible memories—Lark missing, hurt, so scared as I pulled her out of that trunk—will fade, and it won’t hurt as much to leave her.

It’ll never be easy, though. And I’ll never completely forget.

The protectiveness I felt toward Lark after the break-in at her house has only been magnified tenfold. I would do literallyanythingto make sure she’s safe.

I still wonder if I made the right choice leaving Ed alive. He’s in jail, awaiting trial, and there’s zero chance of him getting off. Not with Lark’s statement detailing how he kidnapped her, threatened to kill her, and knocked her out with his gun. And not with theevidence Alec found linking Ed to the earlier attempt on her life.

That should be enough. Logically, I know it is. But in my gut? Knowing what he did to the woman I love? Part of me wishes I’d killed him.

“Knox. I told you, I’ll be fine.” Lark adjusts my jacket collar, smiling as she adds, “Like you said, it’s only an hour. I’ll barely notice you’re gone.”

“Ouch.” I make a mock-hurt face at her. “You’re not going to miss me?”

“Of course I will. But I’ll be busy. I have some presents to wrap, and I want to text Kate. Plus, I have a few emails to send for work.”

Worry tinges my tone. “Are you sure you should be doing all that already?”

“Yes.” She smoothes out the line I know is etched across my forehead. “I looked it up. Some light physical and brain activities are good a few days after a concussion. I won’t push it. I promise.”

Lark looks up at me, a hopeful expression on her face. “And since you’re going into town, maybe you could pick up some more wrapping paper? When I checked our supply?—”

“We have a supply of wrapping paper?”

“Of course. Not just paper. We have gift bags and bows and tags. Oh, and tissue paper. I think we need more of that, too. Christmassy colors, if you can get them.”

“Okay.” Framing her face, I lower my lips to hers, taking them in a slow and tender kiss. “Wrapping paper and tissue paper. In red and green.”

“Gold, too. And silver.”

“Got it.” I kiss her again. “Do you want me to stop into Decadent Delights for some cookies? Since I’ll be right next door at Breakfast Bliss?”

I wouldn’t be leaving the house at all if not for the upcoming reno there. But Marty, the owner of Breakfast Bliss, just called me yesterday asking if we could redo the dining area, too. Since we’re supposed to start the week after Christmas, I need to get in there and take some measurements now, so I can get the supplies on order.

“Some cookies would be nice.” Lark gives me that incredible, dragon-slaying smile. And for a second, all I can do is stare at her, memorizing each perfect detail. The spray of freckles that I love so much. Her bow-shaped lips, rosy from our kisses. The love shining in her eyes.

“Okay, songbird.” I trace a little constellation of freckles on her cheek. “Wrapping paper. Tissue paper. Cookies. Anything else?”

“Nope.” She pops thePas she grins at me. “Sounds perfect. Now go. Stop stalling. I’ll be fine. And as soon as you get back, we can have lunch and watch that new Hallmark movie.”

“Wait. There’sanothernew one?”

“Of course.” Lark takes my hand and leads me to the front door. “The week before Christmas, there’s a new one each day. Plus, there’s more than one Hallmark channel, so some nights, there are two or three.”

Oh. Who knew Christmas Hallmark movies were such a big thing?

“Okay. We’ll watch it when I get back.” Hand on thedoorknob, I pause to give her one more kiss. “Love you, songbird.”

“Knox.” She softens. “I love you, too.”

As the door closes behind me, pain spears through my chest, digging a little deeper with each step.

She’s fine, I keep telling myself as the worry settles in. Ronan checked Lark last night, and he said she’s recovering nicely. That she should be back to normal in no time.

She’s fine. We have a state-of-the-art security system. No one is getting into the house without me or Lark inviting them in.

She’s fine.A little anxious and jumpy, which is to be expected. And every night, there’s at least one nightmare. But Lark’s talking to her counselor. She’s talking to me. Considering what she went through, she’s holding up incredibly well.

Still. It hurts to leave her.

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