by Amelia Wilde
“Long time, no see,” Mason said, grinning as widely as she was. His eyes sparkled with the same giddy happiness that had infected Lark the moment she laid eyes on Mason this morning.
“I see you didn’t take the time to shave.” Lark leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms, not missing the way Mason’s eyes flicked down to the cleavage displayed by her black baby doll dress and back up again.
“I was in a hurry,” Mason said, stepping closer.
“In a hurry for what?” Lark asked innocently. “Dinner isn’t being served until six thirty.”
“In a hurry to get back to this woman I like a whole lot.” Mason wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her out the door and into his arms. “She’s about your height and wearing this little black dress that I think might drive me crazy by the end of the night. Or ten minutes from now, I can’t be sure.”
“Is that right?” Lark put her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to whisper her next words inches from his lips. “And why’s that?”
“Because she looks amazing, and I want to touch her so bad it’s killing me.”
“You’re touching me right now,” Lark said, leaning closer, pressing her breasts tight to his chest, making Mason’s breath rush out and a pained expression flicker across his face.
Lark shivered. She understood that pain. She felt it all over, in every place that ached for him to touch her, taste her, slip his fingers over the edge of her black silk panties and discover how very deeply he affected her with simply a friendly hug on her parents’ front porch.
“You’re killing me,” Mason whispered, pulling her even closer, until Lark’s hips were fitted against his own and there was no longer any doubt in Lark’s mind that Mason was every bit as affected by her as she was by him.
“Killing, huh?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Killing,” Mason repeated. “But what a way to go.”
“Speaking of go,” Lark said, fisting her hands in his shirt, the last of her reason vanishing in a rush of desire. “Let’s go.”
“We can’t go… Can we?” Mason asked, one hand straying below her waist to cup her bottom through her thin dress, setting her blood to racing even faster.
“Sure we can,” Lark said. “We can go to my place.”
“What about the cookout?” But Mason was already backing away from the house, half carrying Lark off the porch and down the walk toward where his car was parked on the street.
“Forget the cookout,” Lark said, not caring that she wasn’t wearing shoes or that she was ditching her sisters, not caring about anything but being as close to Mason as she could possibly get. “I can’t wait another minute. I want to—”
“Lark! Mason!” called a light voice from inside.
A moment later Melody appeared at the front door, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw Lark and Mason glued together and halfway to the street. “Um, Lark, I think I messed something up.”
“Messed what up?” Lark asked, fighting to breathe normally as Mason set her back on her feet. She turned, blocking Mason’s body with her own, knowing he wouldn’t want Melody to see him in his current state.
“Was I supposed to bring the basting sauce to a boil, and then simmer it for a few minutes, or just bring it to a boil and then turn it off?” Melody asked. “The notes on your old recipe card are kind of hard to decipher.”
“Let it simmer,” Lark said.
“How long?” Melody asked. “Because there isn’t a lot of excess liquid and I don’t want to—”
“Just put it on to simmer and I’ll be in in a second,” Lark said, widening her eyes at her sister in silent plea for a moment of privacy.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll go get the grill started then.” Melody backed away with a little wave. “Hi, Mason!”
“Hi,” Mason called, laughter lurking in his voice.
Lark turned to glance at him over her shoulder, biting her lip. “I think our escape has been thwarted.”
“Probably for the best,” Mason said, taking her hand and pulling her back toward the house. “Nash should be here soon, and I’m not sure your sisters would have forgiven me for kidnapping you before a cookout, you being Mistress of the Grill and all.
“I am Mistress of the Grill,” Lark said. “Hope you won’t mind me smelling all meaty by the end of the night.”
“You could smell like rotten eggs and garbage truck juice and I’d still want to lick you all over.”
“That’s disgusting,” Lark said with a giggle.
“I thought you liked licking.” Mason leaned down to whisper the words into her hair as they stepped into the house. “As long as the licks were in all the right places.”
Lark made a sound very close to a purr and turned to face him. “You do tend to know the right places,” she murmured before pressing her lips lightly to his.
It was just the ghost of a kiss—only a few seconds long and the barest press of hot skin against hotter—but it was enough to make her feel like fireworks were going off inside her head, soaring and bursting in a giddy explosion of color that made her want to squeal and giggle and sigh, all at the same time.
Mason. Just…Mason. He did it for her, in so many wonderful ways.
“Um, knock, knock,” came a deep, male voice from the doorway. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”
Mason pulled away and turned to open the door a little wider with a smile. “Nash, glad you could make it.”
“Hi, I’m Lark.” Lark turned and welcomed Mason’s friend with an outstretched hand. Nash hadn’t been home when they fetched the boat—Mason had called him at the police station to invite him—so they had yet to be properly introduced. “So glad you could come.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Nash said, giving her hand a firm grip as he smiled. It was a wide, friendly smile that showcased some very straight, very white teeth.
Lark gave Mason’s friend a quick once over as she took the bottle of wine he’d brought and led the boys into the kitchen to open it, surprised to find Nash quite so…manly.
He was about Mason’s height, but thicker all over, with muscles that strained the sleeves of his tight, black t-shirt and jeans that had obviously been purchased at some kind of specialty store for men with giant quadriceps and tiny waists. Mason was an athletic, muscular guy, but Nash was verging on man meat. He had honed the perfection of his body to the point where it was almost intimidating and stopped just short. Between his killer physique, tanned skin, white teeth, bright green eyes, boyishly short brown hair, and sweet, lazy drawl, Nash was any red-blooded Southern girl’s dream come true.
If Nash didn’t remind Aria why she loved living in the South, no man would.
Yes, yes indeed, Lark thought as she poured herself a glass of the Chardonnay Nash had brought and got both of the boys set up with a beer. Aria is going to love this one.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Aria appeared in the doorway with Felicity balanced on her hip. She was dressed in a burnt orange sleeveless sundress that brought out the auburn in her hair and highlighted her slim figure. She was actually wearing makeup, for once, and chunky turquoise jewelry that emphasized her green eyes. And, best of all, she was smiling her big, bright, Aria smile down at Felicity. It was a rare smile these days, but it reminded Lark of why, when she was growing up, she had always wanted to look like her big sister.
When Aria smiled she was more than just pretty, she was break-your-heart stunning. There wasn’t a man alive who could resist her.
Lark peeked over at Nash to see if his jaw had dropped, to find an unexpected frown pulling at his handsome face.
“Hey y’all, I turned on the bug lights, but I can’t reach the torches since Daddy put them up so—” Aria broke off as she looked up, her gaze skimming over Lark and Mason to settle on the man beside them, her eyes widening with shock and confusion before her brows pulled together in a frown that matched Nash’s to a T.
17
“What’s he doing here?” Aria asked in a
voice only slightly more friendly than the one she’d greeted Mason with on Lark and Mason’s first date.
“Nice to see you again, too, Aria,” Nash drawled, while Lark and Mason exchanged panicked glances behind his back.
Aria knew Nash? How?
Crap on a cracker, what had Lark done now? Her sister wasn’t going to be distracted by a handsome single guy; she was going to be livid with Lark for inviting someone she obviously couldn’t stand to a family barbeque.
“Looks like motherhood has been good to you,” Nash continued. “Pretty as ever, and twice as sweet.”
Aria’s eyes narrowed, but her lips stretched into a wide smile. “And it looks like you’re as much of a gym junkie as ever. Still measuring your thighs before you go to bed at night?”
Nash chuckled, a warm sound that filled the kitchen, banishing the prickle left behind by Aria’s words. “Nah, now I measure my biceps. It’s hard to get the tape around my arm with one hand and you know how we dumb, backwoods hicks love cheap entertainment.”
Aria visibly bristled, like a hen ruffling her feathers, but Lark jumped in before her sister could whip up another jab.
“I invited Nash, Aria. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Lark said with an apologetic smile. “He’s an old friend of Mason’s and we thought we might need some help eating all that steak you got. You know it’s never as good the next day.”
“That’s all right,” Nash said, setting his beer on the counter and glancing down at Lark with a warm smile that made her want to beg his forgiveness for exposing him to her sister in Aria’s current, caustic state. “I can go. It’s no big—”
“No, stay,” Aria said in a calm, even tone, making Nash turn back to her with eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry I was rude. I was surprised, but that’s no excuse,” she continued, making Lark’s eyebrows shoot up right along with Nash’s.
Who was this woman, and what had she done with her refuses-to-apologize-no-matter-what-she’s-done-sister?
“We’re not kids anymore,” Aria continued as she shifted Felicity to her other hip. “There’s no reason we can’t all have a nice evening together. Especially since Daddy won’t be home until next week.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Nash said, but he made no move to reclaim his beer, obviously still on the fence about whether to stay or go.
Lark honestly couldn’t say which she’d prefer. She didn’t want to offend one of Mason’s friends, but she couldn’t deny she was dying to know what the backstory was between Aria and Nash.
Why did they despise each other? And what the heck did Daddy have to do with it?
“I honestly had no idea this was your house,” Nash said, a hint of embarrassment in his deep voice. “Mason didn’t mention his girlfriend’s name, just gave me the address and a time to show up.”
“Don’t worry about it. Stay, eat with us.” Aria smiled a friendly smile only a sister could tell was forced. “Come on into the backyard. You’re tall enough to light the Tiki Torches, and I’ll introduce you to Melody, my other little sister.”
“All right.” Nash grabbed his beer and slipped by Aria and out into the backyard.
Aria waited until he was out of earshot before whispering, “I am going to kill you,” to Lark between clenched teeth with a glare that could slice bricks.
“I’m sorry,” Lark whispered back. “I had no idea. I didn’t—”
Aria stopped her with a hand in the air, pasted another smile on her face, and sashayed into the backyard. A moment later, Lark heard her introducing Melody, then telling Nash how to light the torches and thanking him for sticking around to enjoy the evening.
“She really is going to kill me,” Lark mumbled as she set her wine down and went to check the simmering marinade.
“Why?” Mason asked. “How do they know each other?”
“I have no idea.” Lark shrugged and shook her head.
“You don’t think they…dated, do you?”
“Maybe,” Lark said. “But I have no idea when. I know I joked about not remembering the names of her boyfriends, but I would have remembered a name like Nash. And I have no idea what Daddy has to do with anything. He usually did his best not to interact with Aria’s harem.”
“In denial,” Mason said with a chuckle.
“Totally in denial.” Lark laughed as she gave the basting sauce one last stir before declaring it ready and turning off the heat. “He’s like that with Melody’s boyfriends, too. You were the only one he ever really liked.”
Mason came closer, putting his arms around her waist. “Think he’ll be happy to see us back together when he gets home?”
Lark turned to him, unable to resist brushing the hair from his face and running her fingertips down his slightly scruffy jaw. “Maybe not at first, but once he sees how happy I am, he’ll come around. Don’t worry about Daddy.”
“All right, I won’t,” Mason said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead that made Lark’s entire body light up. “Now, what can I do to help? Want me to chop salad?”
“No, Melody got almost everything ready this afternoon,” Lark said. “I just need to get the steak started. Why don’t you go rescue Nash from my sisters and talk manly stuff and I’ll be out in a second.”
Mason nodded and ambled slowly toward the backdoor. “I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be as manly as Nash. He’s even bigger than he used to be. Enough to make a guy feel a little intimidated.”
Lark shot him an amused look. “As if.”
Mason grinned. “I get intimidated. Sometimes.”
“You’re the best looking man I’ve ever seen,” Lark said, propping a hand on one hip. “If you were any better looking, I’d have to beat other women off of you with a stick. A big, heavy, spiky stick.”
“I’d like to watch that. Sounds sexy,” Mason said, making Lark laugh as she shooed him out the door.
“Get out,” she said. “Or we won’t be eating until eight o’clock.”
She bustled about the kitchen, taking the avocado sauce out to warm up to room temperature, and getting everything ready to bring out to the grill, smiling the entire time though there was no one around to see it. She couldn’t help herself. Even knowing Aria was going to unleash her cranky upon her as soon as the boys left tonight wasn’t enough to dampen Lark’s spirits.
Ten minutes later, she joined the party in progress in the back yard, shocked to see Nash down on the grass on his hands and knees with Felicity, playing with a big red ball, making the baby squeal with laughter. Lark shot Aria a look as she crossed to the grill, but Aria only shrugged and took a long drink of her Chardonnay.
“They look like puppies,” Melody whispered as Nash crawled across the grass to fetch the ball and Felicity followed with an excited burble. “They’re so cute!”
“Shush,” Aria said beneath her breath.
“But they are, Ra,” Melody said. “I wish Brian had been able to come tonight. He thinks little babies are boring, but I’ve never seen—”
“All right, time for a diaper change,” Aria called out brightly, setting her empty glass down and hurrying to scoop Felicity off the grass. The baby fussed for a minute, but then Aria lifted her up to blow onto her bare belly and Felicity began to giggle and squeal once more. She really was the happiest baby.
Too bad Aria was so clearly miserable.
As the evening wore on and they all settled down to eat, things only got worse. Lark knew no one else realized what was going on—not even Melody, since she was too busy enjoying the food and the company to notice her big sister was more silent than usual—but it was obvious to Lark that Aria was dying a little inside every time Felicity reached for Nash.
She worried a blood vessel in her sister’s brain was going to burst when Felicity finished her baby food and chunks of banana and insisted on sitting on Nash’s lap, gumming on tiny pieces of steak he placed on the edge of his plate for her.
“Are you sure that’s okay?” Aria asked. “I’m afraid
she’s going to choke. She’s never eaten red meat before, only a little chicken I cut up in chunks.”
“Aw, she’ll be fine,” Nash drawled. “She’s nine months, right?”
Aria blinked in surprise. “Yes. Just about. Next week, actually.”
Nash nodded and grinned at the baby who gurgled happily and drooled onto the big hand he had wrapped around her tummy, holding her safe on his knee. “Yeah, she’ll be all right. My mom always said that after six months babies could eat just about anything, as long as the pieces were small enough.”
“She should know,” Mason said. “Nash has, what, ten brothers and sisters?”
“Eleven of us total,” Nash confirmed, eyes still on the baby. “I’m the oldest, so I’ve got lots of practice with ones this big. My mama and daddy both worked nights a lot growing up. Most days I’d be in charge of dinner for the whole tribe and whatever cousins decided to drop by.”
“Seems like you’d be sick of babies,” Aria said.
“How could anyone ever get sick of babies?” Nash jogged his knee and Felicity grinned up at him, that gummy grin that always made Lark want to scoop the baby up and squeeze her tight.
“The waking up three times in the night part can get a little exhausting,” Aria said in a weary voice, making Lark feel terrible for not offering to get up with Felicity while she was staying with Aria.
Felicity was a great baby, but she did have a habit of wanting a bottle two or three times a night, and Aria didn’t get much uninterrupted rest. It was really no wonder why her sister was so cranky. She was probably severely sleep deprived.
“She should be sleepin’ through the night by now,” Nash said. “She’s just messing with you.”
“She’s a baby,” Aria said.
“Doesn’t mean she can’t mess with her mama.” Nash laughed softly. “They start young these days, don’t they, Skeeter?”