Page 231 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Behind me, the sound of a gun cracks through the air. I flinch and turn to see Lennox walking toward the gazebo, what looks like a long hunting rifle in hand.
I shake my head and close my eyes, like I’m in some kind of dream and sharp movement might jostle me out of it. But when I open my eyes, Lennox is still there.
Nothing about the sight of him makes sense. It’s close to dinner time, which means Lennox should be in his kitchen. Instead, he’s outside, still in his chef’s whites, scaring off a bear with a rifle.
My eyes dart back to the bear who has dropped back down on all fours. Her cubs are closer to her now, but there’s a low sound rumbling in her belly, not all that different from Toby’s growl, that makes me think she isn’t quite ready to give up the fight.
Toby inches forward and lets out a snarling bark. I’ve never heard him make that kind of sound.
“Tatum,” Lennox says slowly. “Walk behind me and cross over to the big oak tree. Do you see it?”
I manage a jerky nod. “I see it.”
“From there, call Toby and see if you can get him to come to you.”
“I’m not . . .” I swallow. I understand what he’s telling me to do, but I’m having a hard time moving my feet.
“Tatum.” Lennox’s voice is calm and steady. “Listen to my voice, all right?Youare the reason Toby isn’t backing down. He thinks you’re in danger. If he can get to you without going through the bear, he probably will.”
This, finally, logs in my brain, and I’m able to propel my feet down the step and behind Lennox to the massive oak tree across the lawn.
“Toby!” I whisper-yell. “Here, boy!”
Toby looks my way, then looks back at the bear.
“Come on, boy,” I call, my voice quivering.
Toby barks one more time, a short, growling yelp, then darts over to me.
I drop to my knees and wrap my arms around him, curling my hand around his collar as Lennox fires another shot into the air. Toby flinches at the sound—he would probably bolt if I wasn’t holding onto him—but I tighten my grip and he settles, leaning his weight against me.
The bear jerks, shaking her head before heading into the woods, her cubs following close behind.
Lennox is in front of me in a second, the gun dropping to the ground beside him as he pulls me to my feet. His hands wrap around my shoulders and slide down my arms, then lift to my face like he’s cataloging every inch of me, making sure I’m whole and well.
“You’re okay,” he says softly as his thumbs slide across my cheeks, wiping away the tears I didn’t even realize were falling. “You’re okay,” he repeats.
I fall against him, taking a deep breath as his arms wrap around my back. His embrace is warm and strong and stabilizing in all the best ways.
“Just breathe,” Lennox says, his voice close to my ear.
Toby nuzzles my palm with his nose and lets out a soft whimper, and I keep my hand on his head, as much to steady myself as to steady him.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I sense that later, I will remember things about this moment—about Lennox—that I’m unable to process right now.
How good he smells.
The feel of his strong arms around me.
The concern reflecting in his green eyes. But right now, I’m only repeating one thought.
I’m safe. Toby is safe. We’re safe.
Also. Lennox knows how to fire a gun.
Listen, it’s not like I sit around and dream about being a damsel in distress. But Iwasin distress, and seeing Lennox come to my rescue? It’s an experience I didn’t know I needed until right now.
And I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same again.
