Page 51 of Guarded from Danger

“You are the most incredible person, Lucy. Every day I wake up feeling so lucky to have found you.”

And as quietawwscome from around the table, I hand my heart to her with no hesitation.

“I love you, Luce. So damn much. And I’ll spend every day showing you. Doing whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re the most important person in the world to me.”

She touches my cheek. “You’re the most important person to me, too. And I love you so much.”

As we stare into each other’s eyes, there’s a moment when everything is quiet. When it still feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

And then.

A round of cheers erupt through the bar.

Amid the hoots andway to gos andit’s about times, I hug Lucy close and murmur close to her ear, “Sorry. I meant to do this in a more romantic setting.”

“It’s okay.” Lucy grins up at me, her joy a visible thing. “I love this. It’s special. We won’t forget saying I love you here.” Then her lips quirk. “I have an idea.”

“Oh?”

“First, let’s put our initials on the table. And then—” Her voice goes low and sultry. “We should go home and celebrate being in love. What do you think?”

“I love it.” Framing her face, I brush my lips across hers. “And I love you.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LUCY

Unlike our usual walks, this one is heavy with silence.

Usually, we meander along the trails talking about anything that comes to mind. The new releases on Netflix. One of theJeopardyquestions from the night before. Funny stories and adventures from when we were kids, like the time I tried to hide in the public library after closing so I could stay there all night, or when Xavier built his own soap box car and came in first in the local tournament.

Then there are days when our conversations shift to more serious topics. The guilt I struggled with when I finally told my dad I wasn’t interested in working at his company and I wanted to pursue a career in creative writing instead. Xavier’s difficult childhood, growing up with a drug-addicted mom and a father in prison, and how desperate he was to make a better life for himself.

It’s on these walks that I truly get to know Xavier.

Not that we didn’t talk before, or that we don’t share important things back home, but there’s just something about being outside, surrounded by birds and plants and the wide open sky that makes it easier to say the things long kept hidden.

They started as a way for me to get some exercise, but during the weeks I’ve been at Blade and Arrow, this time with Xavier has become so much more.

I’ve learned things about myself being out here—that I prefer the wild of nature to manicured lawns, hiking through tall grasses rather than jogging on a treadmill, and most of all, that B and A feels more like home than any other place I’ve lived.

Xavierfeels like home.

And I want him to feel the same way, like he’s safe with me, and he can tell me anything. That he doesn’t always have to protect me. That when he’s struggling with the memories of his childhood or the things he saw in the Army, he can talk to me about it. That as strong as he is, as brave, he doesn’t always have to be.

That’s why I’m debating how to handle his silence.

It all started after the phone call an hour ago. We were finishing breakfast and chatting about the day, every few minutes exchanging soft, affectionate glances that saidI love youas clearly as the words. His hand was caressing my thigh, and even though we’d just made love, my desire was surging again.

Then his phone rang, and the second he saw the number, his demeanor changed.

His features went stony and his gaze shadowed, all the softness disappearing in an instant. Jaw tight, he stared at the phone like it was some kind of poisonous creature before gritting out, “Sorry, Lucy. But I have to take this.”

As he closed the bedroom door behind him, I tried not to feel rejected, reminding myself that just because we usually took calls in front of each other doesn’t mean we always had to.

By the time I finished washing the dishes, Xavier was off the phone, looking even more tense than he did when he answered it. His expression wasn’t angry, but more… hurt. Disappointed.And when he neared me, there was a vulnerability in his eyes I’ve never seen before.

Without explanation, he just asked, “Can we go for that walk now? If it’s okay with you?”

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