Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(13)

Turning around, she looked up into her brother’s frightened, confused eyes. “Come on, Ry.”

“Where we goin’, Ver’ty?”

“With Colton,” she said, taking Ryan’s hand and leading him across the parking lot to Colton’s car.

His trunk was open, and he was throwing the crowbar back inside as she approached.

“Your offer,” she called. “Does it still stand?”

“My . . .?”

“Your offer to put us up for a night or two.”

His brows furrowed, but he leaned closer to her, as though he couldn’t possibly be hearing her correctly. “After that . . . after what just happened, you want to . . .”

She nodded, holding his eyes. “Get the suitcases, Ryan.” As her brother collected their belongings, she nodded again. “Not after that. Because of that.”

His eyes widened. “But I just . . . I lost it. You should be . . . I mean, aren’t you . . .?”

“Scared of you?” She stepped closer to him. “No.”

He wasn’t handsome. Not by a long shot. But no one—not anyone—had ever stepped in to defend her brother like Colton Lane had just done. So she wasn’t afraid of him, and she certainly didn’t care that his wasn’t the prettiest face in the room. There was even a shocking part of her that didn’t care he’d just broken a man’s leg with a single, lethal blow. She’d deal with her feelings about that later. All she cared about right now was the fact that he had helped them, not once, not twice, but three times going on four. Her heart swelled with gratitude for this strange, gruff giant who’d been her savior today.

She reached up and cupped his left cheek, resting her palm against his hot, bristly skin and tilting her head to the side as she gazed up at him.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice a broken whisper.

His eyes, deep and gray, searched hers, scanning them like he couldn’t figure her out. Finally he shrugged, but it was a weak movement, like he was just as confused and overwhelmed as she was.

“No one. Just a guy.”

She shook her head. “No. You’re not just a guy. I’ve met plenty of guys. You’re . . . different.”

“Here’s the suitcases,” said Ryan cheerfully, bumping into her as he lugged them over to the trunk.

She dropped her hand and stepped away, staring at the ground for a moment to gather her wits before looking up at Colton. “So? Are we still invited? To stay at your place?”

Instead of answering, Colton reached down for the suitcases and hefted them into the trunk, slamming it shut before giving her a hard look.

“Go get the box and duffel,” she told Ryan, without dropping Colt’s eyes. She raised her eyebrows in question once they were alone again.

“I just broke a man’s leg,” Colt said.

“I saw.”

“You shouldn’t come home with me.”

She heard his words. She listened to them and processed them and let them roll around in her head for a long minute before deciding that, regardless of the viciousness of his attack on those men, he’d treated her and her brother with nothing but kindness today. He’d helped them, saved them, protected them, and, if anything, his anger over Ryan’s mistreatment endeared him to her even more.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said.

His face turned from concerned to deeply irritated. “How have you stayed alive this long?”

From nowhere, a giggle started deep inside her, swirling up from her belly to her throat, tickling her tongue and opening her lips. It died before it could take flight, but its intention tilted her lips into a big smile.

“I don’t know.”

“I got ’em, Ver’ty,” said Ryan, standing beside her, holding the bag and box in his arms.

“Get in the backseat and buckle up, Ry,” she said, still grinning up at Colton Lane’s scowling face as an ambulance siren sounded in the distance. “It’s time to go.”





CHAPTER 4


Colt’s house wasn’t exactly glamorous.

That said, it was clean and tidy and a lot better than the Thrifty Inn.

He’d inherited it from Aunt Jane and Uncle Herman after they passed on, a few years back. They’d had only one child—his cousin, Melody—but she wasn’t in a position to take care of it, so the house, a 1960s brick Cape Cod cottage on a main road in Stone Mountain, had been left to him.

It had three small bedrooms, a bathroom upstairs and another down, a living room, a dining room, a kitchen, and a back patio. He kept the front lawn neatly mowed and mulched Aunt Jane’s hydrangeas by the front stoop every summer, but he didn’t have much of a green thumb, so he left it at that. Plus, with most of his time spent at The Legend of Camelot, he didn’t have a lot of free time for gardening.

For a few minutes, as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the highway, he’d been worried about the police connecting him or Verity to the man’s injury, but she hadn’t used a credit card for her stay and didn’t have a permanent home address. The men could have taken down his license plate number as he peeled out of the parking lot, but he doubted it. One of them had still been on his back, and the other was leaning over his friend with his back to Colt’s car when he looked back in his rearview mirror. Besides, guys like that? It was unlikely the police would be called or a report would be filed. Colt would be surprised if they hadn’t already had some tangles with the law, and he was quite sure they weren’t interested in drawing attention to themselves.