Page 44 of Mountain Protector

Pete reaches into the truck bed and grabs his thermos, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip of the steaming liquid. “How long before you want to break for lunch?”

“As soon as the planks are all down. And after lunch, I’d like to try and get the railing started. Looks like snow toward the end of the week, so if we can wrap this up?—”

My phone buzzes, going off in the signature pattern I assigned to all my Guardian teammates. “Hang on. I just have to check this.”

“No problem.” Pete takes another sip, sighing as he adds, “Thank God for coffee.”

In the moments it takes to pull out my phone and check the message, fear clutches my chest. What if something’s wrong with Lark? What if something happened to her? I left her safe at the cabin this morning,with Enzo at the store and Ronan on guard duty, but what if?—

What ifwhat?

What if someone got onto the property? Somehow bypassed all our defenses and got to Lark? What if I promised she was safe and I failed her?

But as soon as I read Enzo’s message, all the air leaves me in a rush.

Police just called. They found the gunman. He’s dead.

And a second later.

I figured you’d want to be there when we tell Lark.

A grim smile lifting my lips, I quickly tap out my response.

I’ll be right there.

“Didyou tell her the guy is dead?”

Turning toward Enzo, I reply, “No. I didn’t want to tell her over the phone. Hey, Lark. The man who shot you is dead.” Pausing, I add, “I just said they caught the guy.”

Which is true. I just didn’t say he was dead when the police found him.

Officer Quillian walks alongside us as we make our way up the path to the front door of Lark’s cabin. He flashes me a little smile before saying, “Well. It is good news, at that. It’s definitely the guy in her house. And given the evidence—” He stops. “Anyway. We can discuss all that inside.”

Itisgood news. Not that I would normally rejoice about someone being dead, but in this case, I think it’sacceptable. The asshole fucking shot Lark. Tried to kill her.

I wish I could have killed him myself, honestly.

As we walk onto the porch, Enzo asks, “You told her we were coming, right?”

“Of course.” I pull out my phone and send Lark a quick message, letting her know we’re outside. Once it’s sent, I add, “I said it would be me, you, and someone from the Bliss PD.”

“Well, she should be relieved,” Officer Quillian says. “We should be able to wrap up the case and have Lark back to her normal life soon.”

“I’m sure,” I tell him as my gaze wanders to the cheerful ribbons on the windows and the ropes of lights twined around the porch railing. Once Lark gets back to her place, I’ll have to help her decorate again. Maybe this time, we can wander through the woods and pick a tree to cut down. Unless she wants to bring the one here; I could pack up all the ornaments and load the tree onto the back of my truck. And we could have another special day of decorating?—

Lark opens the door, her gaze going to mine immediately. Before she can say anything, I step forward, pulling her into my arms for a quick hug. She snuggles into my chest, the soft scent of her hair tickling my nose and her soft curves pressing against me.

Even though I’d prefer to just stand here, enjoying this perfect fit, logic tells me it’s below freezing out and we have two other people standing here. So I reluctantly release her and say, “Hey, sweetheart. You look beautiful.”

Lark smiles, her cheeks turning pink. “Thanks.”Then she glances at Enzo and Officer Quillian, and her smile falters for a second. “Hi, Enzo. And Officer Quillian. Come in.” Then she makes a little face. “Sorry, Enzo. That sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it? Inviting you into your own house.”

“It’s not silly,” Enzo replies. He pats her shoulder as he follows her inside. “Just because the cabin is on my property doesn’t mean it’s not your home while you’re here.”

As we walk into the living room, Enzo glances at the tree, then turns to me with a smirk. “Looks like I’m not the only one who ended up decorating.”

I catch Lark’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “It turns out decorating for Christmas is a lot more fun than I realized.”

She sneaks a look at me, pleasure brightening her gaze. “It is really fun, isn’t it?”

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