Page 3 of Saved By a Knight

LORA

“Idon’t know what you think’s going on here, but it isn’t anything like that.” Professor Callahan appeals to the behemoth towering over us.

A little tickle of tightening nerves in my belly tells me that there is no appealing to this monster. His judgment is final, and he acts as judge, jury, and executioner all bundled in one.

“So, you aren’t making unwanted advances at someone who clearly showed no sign of interest?” His scowling lips barely part to say the words, but they still manage to carry the burning intensity swirling in his golden eyes.

“Let me just get out of here before this blows up further.” Professor Callahan speaks with the same stoicism he uses in the lecture hall.

“I’m surprised you haven’t fucked off already.” A deep rumbling emits from the monster’s chest.

I gulp down a dry swallow. It should be out of fear, I think. That the devil I know is being chased away by one far bigger and farscarier. But it isn’t. My nervously dry throat has nothing to do with him being intimidating. At least not the aggressive side of it.

It’s because this is the closest I’ve come to someone catching my eye since I moved to Boulder. Living in an all-girl dorm doesn’t make it any easier, and my wild years of partying have passed me by while I study for my master’s in psychology.

Definitely helps that behind the thick padding of muscle that makes up everything below the neck, he’s incredibly easy on the eyes. His strong jaw carries a light coat of fuzz, enhancing his already terrifying demeanor. Hazel eyes twinkle beneath the streetlamp overhead, seemingly swirling endless beauty behind their intensity.

Callahan doesn’t speak again as he starts walking backward across the street, keeping an eye on the giant as he goes.

“I suppose a thank you is in order.” I speak once the professor is in his car, shuffling madly to get it started.

“Nah, not at all. Don’t thank me for taking out the trash.” His gaze remains fixed on Callahan, long after the threat is gone. “It’s a duty and a pleasure.”

“Your wife must love you then.” Where did that come from? Because I know it isn’t with good intentions. I haven’t stopped gawking and fawning at him since he blasted his way into my conversation with Callahan, and hearing him say he’s married would pour salt in a wound that shouldn’t even exist.

He lifts his enormous hands and waggles his thick fingers around to show me he isn’t wearing a ring. Well, that’s not true. He’s wearing several, some with skulls, others simple gold, but none in that sacred position on his left hand.

“Maybe someday, but for now, it’s a thankless job.”

Only once Callahan’s car is halfway down the road does he turn down to look at me. But like my own, his eyes can’t seem to settle in one place. They scan my cheeks, follow the length of my hair trailing down my shoulder, a few haphazard glances even make it to the high V-cut of my blouse, and my cheeks instantly set ablaze.

Looking too deeply into it can’t be a good idea. He’s a man, and men like to look at women, but not like this. Clenching down so hard that his jaw pronounces even further. Scattering glances returning to my face, so I can’t be certain if he is stealing cheeky glances.

“James Knight.” He offers a hand and I take it. It’s rough and calloused, telling of his years working with them. “But everyone calls me Knight.”

“Fitting.” A smile breaks over my face.

“Why’s that?”

I don’t pull my hand away immediately when the shake is over. There’s no hidden subtext behind the action, but I just like the feeling of his in mine. He isn’t trying to rush away, either.

That has to count for something, right?

“Your name, silly.” I giggle. “A valiant knight coming to save a damsel in distress.”

“I may be a knight, but valiant isn’t the word I’d use to describe myself.” He scoffs, shaking his head as our hands slip apart. If he weren’t a complete stranger, I’d snatch it right back.

“Lora Bailey,” I conclude our greeting. “But everyone calls me Lora.”

“Well, Lora Bailey, I’m not everyone.” He looks over his shoulder at the gas station he must’ve come from. “How about I give you a ride home?”

“How could I refuse an offer like that?” If even just to spend a few more minutes in his company.

I peek around his side and don’t see a car at the station. Hell, I don’t see cars anywhere on the road. That can only mean the bike is his.

“Yup, that’s mine,” he answers my question before I even have a chance to think it. “What can I say? Every knight needs his stallion, and a sedan wouldn’t quite cut it.”

We both chuckle at his joke.

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