Page 31 of Mountain Protector

Knox tilts his head, a clear look of skepticism on his face. But after a moment of silent thought, he thankfully decides not to follow up, instead saying, “I’m sorry I startled you. That’s why I texted. But next time, I’ll text again before I ring the doorbell.”

“Oh. You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. Really.”

“I should have thought of it myself. Of course you’re feeling jumpy. And being alone here… Did you call Winter? She works from home, so can stop by most times unless she’s on a deadline or a business call.”

“No… I didn’t want to bother her after she came over yesterday.”

“Lark. She wouldn’t mind.”

Looking into his eyes, I find myself admitting, “I wasn’t feeling that great today. So I didn’t really feel up to it. Entertaining.”

Knox frowns. A moment later, he’s beside me on the couch, cradling my hands in his. “How were you feeling?”

The truth is a thick lump lodged in my throat, and it’s a struggle to work it out. “This isn’t how I meant to be when you got here,” I reply quietly. “I just wanted to have a nice time and not talk about all my crap again.”

There’s a long pause as he looks at me, an indecipherable emotion darkening his gaze. Then he exhales and says, “You can talk about anything you want. Whenever you want. Please don’t feel like you have to pretend to be okay around me.”

Unexpectedly, tears spring to my eyes, but I blink fast as I try to force them back. Through a thickening throat, I admit, “I thought I was doing okay. Yesterday, that is. But last night and today… I couldn’t sleep. And I feel jumpy all the time. Even though I know it’s safe, it doesn’t help.”

“Oh, Lark.” His lips press into an unhappy line. “I’m sorry?—”

“No. Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“I should have come back sooner. After I promised to be here as much as I could?—”

“It’s your job, Knox. I understand that. I don’t expect you to be here babysitting me all the time.”

“It’s not like that,” he replies quickly. “I’m here because I want to be.”

My heart jumps.

“Well.” Trying to distract myself from all my scattered emotions, I cast about for something different to talk about. Spotting a large brown paper bag by the door, I ask, “What’s in there?”

Knox blinks, probably startled by my abrupt change of topic. But as he follows my gaze, his solemn expression brightens. “Oh. I brought some stuff over. Do you want to see?”

“Of course.”

With a boyish smile that makes him look at least a decade younger than the thirty-eight I know he is, he bounds over to the door and returns with the bag, setting it on the coffee table. “Some of this may seem silly. But I was thinking of things to cheer you up, and…”

Reaching in, he pulls out two Jenga games and places them beside the bag. “I know,” he adds, “it doesn’t seem exciting. But my friend Leo, he was stationed at Fort Campbell with me, and he came up with this thing called Extreme Jenga. We use both games and make super high towers, and there are challenges. Like making a move in five seconds or pushing the block through with your eyes closed.”

He glances at my injured arm as he explains, “It’s all one-handed. So I thought it would be okay to play.Although you said you’re tired, so if you’re not up for it?—”

“I am.” A flicker of excitement comes to life inside me. “I love Jenga, actually.”

Knox beams at me. “Great.” Reaching into the bag again, he retrieves a little box with the title Exploding Kittens on the front of it. “And I brought this; it sounds awful, but it’s really fun. If you like Cards Against Humanity, you might like this one, too.”

“Oh, Cards Against Humanity is one of my favorites. I’d love to try it.”

If possible, his smile gets even bigger. And my heart does this twisting thing that makes me feel slightly breathless.

“Oh, good. I didn’t know if you’d think it was weird, bringing games over. Gage actually suggested asking you to playWorld of Warcraftwith me, but you really need two hands for that, and I don’t want you hurting your arm.”

Before I can respond, he dives back into the bag again, this time coming out with another, smaller brown bag. “Sandwiches from the Laughing Goat. I don’t know if you’ve tried them, but they make the best sandwiches all from locally sourced ingredients. I got four different kinds, so you can pick your favorite.”

“Oh.” Those darned tears are threatening again. “This is so nice, Knox. You didn’t have to do all this. But I love it.”

Knox puts the bag of sandwiches down and sits beside me again. His gaze burns into mine. “I wanted to, Lark. If it makes you happy, I’ll—” The tips of his ears go pink. “Well. I just want to make you happy.”

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