Page 30 of Mountain Defender

The lights were on. Which made me worry even more.

But it didn’t feel right to just show up without an invitation. And in the middle of the night, no less. So I went back home and spent the rest of the night worrying.

What if she had another nightmare, but this time there was no one around to comfort her?

What if she had a flashback?

What if Rory was scared, all alone in an unfamiliar place, but didn’t feel comfortable asking for help?

By seven AM, I couldn’t take it any more. I showed up at Rory’s door with coffee and freshly made donuts from Breakfast Bliss, hoping I wasn’t being too presumptuous.

From the pleased look on her face and the eager rumble of her stomach, it didn’t seem like I was.

As Rory hummed in pleasure over the blueberry muffin donut she’d chosen, flashing little smiles at me between bites, I could almost imagine we were in a different situation. That she was my girlfriend and this was our Saturday morning routine—sharing breakfast before we made our plans for the day.

If only.

If only I could get out of my head.

If only I was the old Gage, whole and strong, instead of the wounded man I’ve become.

We were almost finished with breakfast when Rory floated her idea of coming back to see the dogs. “I’d really like to check on the dogs,” she said. “It’s not that I don’t think Ronan and Max are doing a good job, but they know me. And I just… I’d really like to see for myself that they’re okay.”

That’s when I tried to gently suggest waiting a little longer. “You’re still recovering,” I explained, “and the doctor said to take it easy. To get plenty of rest. What if we wait until Monday? I can ask Ronan to send some videos in the meantime. Would that work instead?”

“Just for an hour,” she reasoned. “I wouldn’t do anything strenuous. Just visit with the dogs. Make sure they know I haven’t forgotten about them.”

And really, when she looked at me with those pleading eyes and hopeful expression, how could I say no?

“Only an hour,” I agreed grudgingly. “And no playing with the dogs like you usually do. Just petting. And treats. How does that sound?”

A bright smile lit up her face. “That’s perfect, Gage. Thank you.”

So here we are; back at her property against my better judgment.

Is this how Knox and Enzo feel when Lark and Winter ask them to do something they’d rather not?

Like the happiness of the person they care about is more important than anything else?

But Knox and Enzo are in real relationships, while Rory and I are just friends. So itshouldbe different.

Why doesn’t it feel that way, then?

Just as we’re pulling into Rory’s driveway, she glances over at me from the passenger seat. With a small smile she says, “Thank you for bringing me here, Gage. I know you didn’t want to.”

“It’s not that,” I reply. “I know you want to see the dogs. I’m just worried about you trying to do too much too soon.”

“I won’t. Just treats and pets. I promise.”

The truck hits a bump and Rory winces at the motion. She tries to play it off as another smile, but I can tell the difference. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I fight the instinctive urge to turn around and go home. To whisk Rory back to her cabin and convince her to rest instead of continuing on this trip that I’m really not sure is a good idea.

“I’m fine,” Rory insists, somehow reading my mind. Then she pats my leg, and my brain short circuits for a second.

It’s an innocent gesture, more reassuring than anything else. But my body has a different idea. Everything narrows to the feel of her small hand on my leg and the riot of sensation that follows.

A beat later, she pulls her hand away and clasps it with the other. Her gaze slides to the side window. Pink touches her cheeks. “Anyway,” she adds quickly, almost too brightly, “I’m feeling much better today. Just a small headache, and my throat is nearly back to normal.”

“I’m glad,” I reply, biting my tongue against the warnings that want to come out. “And I’m sure the dogs will be happy to see you.”

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