by Amelia Wilde
“Flank steak and avocado sauce,” Mason finished, mouth already watering. It was Lark’s first original recipe and Mason’s favorite back when they were dating. “You’re a unicorn princess. Or something even better. Like a unicorn princess goddess of flame-kissed meat.”
Lark smiled, obviously pleased by his response. “I figured we could have a cook out at my parents’ house tonight, give Melody and Aria a chance to get to know you again. Play some badminton in the backyard, let Felicity crawl around in the grass and be adorable, that sort of thing.”
Mason’s enthusiasm level dropped a degree or two. The thought of spending the evening with Aria glaring at him across the picnic table in the March’s backyard wasn’t the most appealing. She’d been civil this morning when he picked Lark up, but she had made it clear the other day that she wasn’t a fan.
“Aria will be nice, I promise,” Lark said, reading his thoughts. “We had a long talk last night.”
“A long talk about what?” Mason asked as the waitress stopped next to their table, pad and pen in hand.
“Y’all decided?” she asked in a chipper voice.
“Yes,” Lark said, smiling. “We’ll have two pancakes, one waffle, an order of scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, a bowl of grits, a side order of sausage, and two biscuits. All to share, so could you also bring a couple of extra plates, please?”
“Of course.” The waitress topped off their coffees before hustling over to the computer to type in their order.
“That was totally hot,” Mason said.
“The way I order food?” Lark asked, smile widening when Mason nodded. “What can I say? I know what I want, Mason, and I’m not afraid to ask for it.”
“And that was even hotter.” He leaned forward, elbows propped on the table to add in a whisper, “Am I going to be allowed to kiss you today?”
“Very possibly.” Lark shot him a look that made his pulse pick up all over again. “Now, what were we talking about?” she asked, reaching out to take his hand, sending a hum of pleasure shooting up his arm.
“I don’t remember,” he said, grinning. “Probably wasn’t important. Not as important as my plans for us for tomorrow.”
“And what are those?”
“I got tickets for the musical that’s playing at the Lyric in Atlanta. The matinee.”
“You didn’t!” Lark laughed. “You hate musical theater.”
“But I lo…” He swallowed the word, not wanting the first time he said it to her to be so casual. “I really like you, and you really like musical theater. And I like happy hour at Damon’s after the show.”
“Sounds like a heavenly fifth date.” Lark threaded her fingers through his and smiled. “I’m going to be so spoiled after this week. I won’t ever want to go back to work.”
“Well, maybe you could take a few more days off,” Mason said, wheels turning. “We could go somewhere. Camping, or to Hilton Head if you don’t mind a long drive. I’ve got a little money saved up. Not a lot, but I’ll be on salary at the new practice soon, so the coffers will be refilled before too long.”
Lark sighed. “I can’t. I have five weddings coming up in June, two corporate parties that want a big spread, and three baby showers. I’m going to be working like a dog until the middle of July, and I just added another wedding in August. Not that I’m complaining,” she hurried to add. “I’d rather have too much work than not enough, but it would be nice to have a few more days with you.”
“We have as many days as you’ll give me,” Mason said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll find time to be together. I don’t start work until next month and when I do I’m one of five doctors at the practice. We share rounds and take turns being on call, so the hours shouldn’t be nearly as deadly as med school or residency. And Summerville’s only an hour from the city. I could be at your place by six thirty or so most nights.”
Lark shook her head slowly back and forth.
“What? What’s wrong?” Mason asked. “I’m telling the truth. As far as I know anyway. I won’t know for sure until I start in the middle of June, but I interviewed with three different practices and—”
“No, it’s not that,” Lark said. “It’s just…this. Us. It’s blowing my mind a little.”
Mason let out a long breath and held tight to her hand. “Me too. In the best way.”
Lark nodded. “Definitely. I can’t even remember—”
“Lark? Lark March, is that you?” The voice was so high-pitched it was nearly a squeak and loud enough that the entire front section of the diner turned to stare as a vaguely familiar brunette wearing a t-shirt that read “Soccer Mom and Proud of It!” stopped next to their table.
15
Lark detangled her hand from his with a guilty look on her face. “Vicky! What’s up? How are you?” She stood, moving to embrace the other woman, who shot Mason a not-so-nice look over Lark’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” Vicky said as she hugged Lark. “Just meeting some girls from my old Baby and Me class for breakfast while the kids are at school.”
“You’re kidding.” Lark pulled away, but kept standing next to their booth, back turned just enough to exclude Mason from the conversation. “Is Braxton already in school?”
“And Braden, too. He started kindergarten last year.”
“That’s crazy. Is seems like your wedding was like, two years ago.”
“We’re celebrating our tenth anniversary this year.” Vicky beamed the smug beam of the happily married, the beam that used to make Mason want to vomit when he was in New York and having a day when getting Lark back seemed like a dream that was never going to come true.
“I heard Aria was back in town,” Vicky continued. “You remember she was one of my bridesmaids.”
“I do,” Lark said. “I’ll tell her you said hi.”
“Do that, and tell her to call me! We need to do some catching up. I can’t wait to hear all her news and see that new baby of hers. I’m dying to hold a real baby.” She sighed. “All mine are getting too big to want to snuggle with Mama. I keep telling Brent we should have another—I’m only twenty-nine, for goodness sakes, it’s not like we have to close up shop—but he can’t stand the diaper years. He’s so excited now that the boys are old enough to play soccer and go fishing with him on Sunday afternoons.”
“That must be nice. Well…I’ll tell Aria to give you a call,” Lark said, edging one leg slowly back into their booth in the universal sign for “I’m ready to return to my meal now, please go away,” but Vicky continued to linger.
“And how are you doing?” Vicky asked, with a pointed look in Mason’s direction. As soon as her gaze landed on him, the warmth vanished from her expression.
“Hi, I’m Mason Stewart,” Mason said, standing and extending his hand.
“Oh, I know who you are. I sat behind you in Algebra II junior year,” Vicky said, her lips pruning. “But even if I hadn’t, I would know Mason Stewart. Everyone in Summerville knows who you are. And what you did.”
“Vicky, please,” Lark murmured beneath her breath.
“You know I’m not one to keep my mouth shut, Lark. You’re like a little sister to me,” she said. “And I wouldn’t consider myself much of a friend to you, or Aria, if I didn’t look this one right in the eye and say shame on you.” She wagged a finger in Mason’s direction, like he was a dog who had peed on the carpet.
Lark sighed. “Vicky—”
“You’re right,” Mason said, cutting Lark off before she was forced to defend him. “What I did to Lark was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Luckily, she’s been good enough to give me another chance, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing whatever I can to make it up to her.”
Vicky sniffed, looking somewhat mollified. “Well, at least you know you’re a rat.”
“Was a rat,” Mason corrected with his most charming smile.
Vicky’s mouth twitched on one side. “Well,” she said, raising her eyebrows at Lark. “He always was too g
ood looking for his own good, but you keep him in line, honey. And make sure that engagement ring is big enough to blind people from fifty feet away.” She leaned in, hugging Lark one last time. “See you later, sugar! Don’t forget to tell your sister to call me.”
By the time Vicky finally hustled away to the opposite corner of the restaurant, Lark’s cheeks were bright pink with embarrassment.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered, sliding back into the booth, clutching her coffee like a lifeline.
“Why are you sorry?” Mason asked. “I’m the rat.”
Lark shook her head, keeping her eyes on her cup. “It’s this town. Everybody knows everything about everyone else. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t called all my friends the night you proposed, but—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Mason said. “I did. And I have to deal with the fallout.”
“But you shouldn’t have to put up with people calling you a rat every time we’re out together,” Lark said. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not so bad.” Mason shrugged. “And it can’t last forever. Within a few months, we should run into everyone who hates me on your behalf. Eventually I’ll have apologized to all of them and we can all move on.”
“I don’t know.” Lark lifted a dubious brow. “Between the three of us, the March sisters have a lot of friends.”
Mason smiled. “Not surprising. You’re fun people. Even Aria,” he added with a wink.
Lark laughed softly. “Poor Aria. But she’s smart, you know? She’s refused to tell anyone what happened with her and Liam after they moved to Nashville. Not even Mom or Dad. No one’s going to be talking about her behind her back.”
“Of course they will. They’ll just make something up if they can’t find any factual dirt,” Mason said. “The gossips in this town don’t have anything better to do. You know that.”
Lark lifted one shoulder. “Maybe, but at least she has her pride. Everyone won’t be thinking she’s an idiot for going back to the man who made her the most pitied girl in Cobb County.”
Mason frowned, a sour feeling flashing in his chest for the first time this morning.
The waitress chose that moment to return with their order, and soon the table was covered with hot, greasy, delicious diner food. But when Lark began to scoop eggs and grits, Mason sat with his hands braced on either side of his empty plate.
“What’s wrong?” Lark asked after a moment.
“Nothing.” Mason fiddled with his fork.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Lark said. “You’ve got your blank face on.”
Mason was good at keeping his emotions concealed when he wanted to, another skill learned when he was young and had to be careful not to make any of the volatile grown-ups in his house angry. Most people had no idea what he was thinking when he shut down like this, but Lark always realized when something was wrong. She called it his “blank face” and knew he only put it on when he was feeling something he didn’t want anyone else to know about.
Mason shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, I just…” He dropped the fork and forced himself to look Lark straight in the eye. There were people he didn’t mind hiding from, but Lark wasn’t one of them. “You’re not an idiot, and I don’t want you to feel like one.”
“I don’t,” Lark said, brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before she realized what he was talking about and her forehead smoothed. “Oh, you mean what I said about— It doesn’t matter, Mason. Really. Let the gossips and Aria’s friends and my friends think whatever they want. I don’t care. I know I’m making the decision that’s right for me.”
“You do?” Mason asked.
“I do. You’re right for me,” Lark said in a soft voice. “And I would rather live through a hundred embarrassing moments than live without you in my life.”
“I love you,” Mason said, not caring if this wasn’t the perfect, romantic moment. It was the truth, and right now he didn’t think he could love her more.
“I…I love you, too,” Lark said, with a nervous rush of breath.
“Scary?” Mason asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, but good. And true. No sense pretending it’s not.”
“I don’t want you to pretend it’s not,” he said, finding a path between the waffle plate and grits bowl to take her hand again. “And as soon as I can afford it, I will get you that blinding engagement ring.”
Lark’s eyes went wide.
“Too soon?” Mason asked, cursing himself. “Too scary?”
“Maybe. A little,” Lark said, pulling her hand gently away. “Let’s take things slow for a while, okay? Just being with you, being happy together…it’s enough to process right now, you know?”
Mason nodded. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Lark said.
“No, I do. I don’t want to mess this up, and—”
“Relax, Mason,” Lark said with a laugh. “There’s only one way you can mess this up and we both know you’re not going to do anything like that again. Now hurry up and grab some eggs before they get cold.”
“Nothing worse than cold eggs,” he said with a grin.
“Unless it’s cold grits. Better grab some of them, too, before they turn to concrete.”
And just like that, their perfect morning was perfect once more. Because they were Lark and Mason again, and Lark and Mason didn’t let the little things get them down. Never had, never would.
They tucked into their breakfast with their usual abandon, then took a long walk around downtown to help their food digest, window-shopping and discussing how they wanted to spend the day. They decided to take the boat out again and head over to the state park with the island in the middle of the lake. It had hiking trails and picnic tables and they could spend the entire afternoon outside enjoying the perfect weather. They stopped inside the bookstore to pick out something for Lark to read on the boat ride, and the sub shop to grab sandwiches, before getting back in Mason’s car and heading over to his friend, Nash’s, house to fetch the boat.
On the way to Nash’s, Mason found a plan beginning to take shape.
“Do you think I could invite Nash over for flank steak tonight?” Mason asked. “I got the feeling he was lonely the other day when I dropped off the boat. His girlfriend moved out not too long ago.”
“Nash…” Lark chewed on her lip for a minute. “Why is that name familiar? He wasn’t one of your old basketball friends.”
“No, Nash and I worked construction together. I might have mentioned him.”
“Maybe,” Lark said in a noncommittal tone.
“He left Summerville to go to the police academy in Atlanta and worked in a precinct there for awhile, but he’s been back here for a few years,” Mason said, turning onto Nash’s street before adding casually. “I think he’s around Aria’s age. Maybe a year or two older?”
Lark hummed beneath her breath. “Ahhh. I see.”
“See what?” Mason asked.
“Don’t play innocent,” Lark said, with a laugh. “I think it’s a great idea. Something to distract her from trying to prove our second chance is made of fail.”
“She thinks our second chance is made of fail?” Mason asked, disappointed though he knew Aria wasn’t a fan. “Complete fail?”
Lark rested a hand on his shoulder. “Right now, she thinks all relationships are made of fail. She hasn’t looked sideways at a man in five months, and that’s got to be some kind of record for Aria. When we were younger, she was always the social butterfly out of the three of us. She had a different boyfriend every semester.” Lark laughed again. “It got to the point that there were so many I couldn’t keep their names straight. I just started calling every guy who called ‘dude’.”
“Dude?”
“Yeah, like, Aria, dude is on the phone!’” Lark shook her head. “Only way I could keep from calling them by the wrong name.”
Mason smiled. “She and Nash should get along just fine, then. He used to
be good at casual relationships back before this last girl. Maybe he and Aria can remind each other how to have fun again.”
“Good. We’ll invite him,” Lark said. “But we won’t tell Aria. I think it’s better if it’s a surprise.”
“That way she can’t yell at us until after it’s over,” Mason said.
“Absolutely,” Lark said with a wicked grin.
“Maybe I like this devilish side of you, after all.” Mason reached over to squeeze her leg right above the knee, making her giggle.
Truth was, he liked all sides of her. He just liked Lark, loved her like he’d never loved anything. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a day—or a life—than with her by his side.
16
The day grew hot, but not too hot, and Mason and Lark spent every minute of it outside, hiking and sunbathing and driving the boat around the lake until it was almost time for the cookout.
It was nearly five o’clock when Mason dropped Lark at her parents’ house to take a shower, and ran back to his hotel to do the same. Lark was sad to see him go, but from the moment he left her by the door to the moment he rang the doorbell again, less than forty minutes had passed, proving Mason was as eager to get back to her as she was to have him by her side.
Lark raced down the stairs in her bare feet, shouting, “It’s for me! I’ll get it,” and threw open the door, fighting the urge to leap into Mason’s arms and kiss him until they were both breathless.
He looked…gorgeous.
His damp hair hung in blue eyes that practically begged her to drag him into her bedroom, lock the door, and show him just how happy she was that they were back together. His fitted jeans clung to his strong legs and his black button down shirt emphasized the slight scruff that was beginning to show on his face. He looked good enough to eat, good enough to devour inch by delicious inch. She didn’t want to share him with anyone else. She just wanted her and Mason, alone, both preferably wearing as few clothes as possible.
But that’s exactly why she’d planned this cookout. If she didn’t surround herself with people, she wasn’t going to make it another day without giving in to the urge to pounce Mason like a she-cat after a man-sized hunk of catnip, and that didn’t seem like the smartest idea only four dates into their second chance.