by Lili Valente
“I’m up for as many dates as you’ll give me,” I say, the center of my bones still unsteady. I feel like I’ve been rescued from a burning building seconds before it collapsed.
And Lark is the one who pulled me from the fire.
“Then let’s start now.” She crosses to me, slipping her hand into mine and giving it a squeeze. “I have stew and rolls warming by the fire. And there’s sweet tea and beer in the cooler if you want it.”
“I could use a beer,” I say with a laugh as she leads me toward the circle of stones and the light flickering beneath the trees. “Or three.”
“Have four,” she says, squeezing my hand again. “I’m driving. I think you’ve earned a little buzz.”
I stop at the edge of the flames, and draw her into my arms. She comes without hesitation, letting me enfold her and hold her close for a long, quiet moment. I drop my lips to the top of her head, drawing a relieved breath as I press a kiss to her hair.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.” Her arms tighten around my waist as she tilts her head back to look up at me, her skin glowing in the firelight. “Let’s never fight again, okay? Or at least not for a long, long time.”
“Why would anyone fight with an angel like you?” I ask with a grin.
Lark narrows her eyes, but her lips stretch into a smile. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I’m the woman who just made you sit in a car blindfolded and sweating for three hours. I might be more devil than angel tonight.”
“Nope. You’re a good one, Lark, I don’t care what all those other people say.”
She laughs. “People don’t say a thing, Mason Stewart.”
“They don’t know you like I do.”
“Oh yeah?” She leans closer, her soft curves pressing against me, making my head spin. “So you think I’m a little devilish after all?”
My pulse beats faster. “Maybe. A little.”
“Speaking of devilish, you know what I miss?”
“What?” I murmur.
“Your truck,” she says in a low voice. “We had some good times in that truck.”
I remember those good times, every single second of them. Every time we spread out the sleeping bags in the bed of my old red Chevy, every kiss, every caress, every time she leaned back her head and sighed as my lips trailed down her throat.
“I’ll trade my car in for something with a tailgate first thing tomorrow morning,” I say, meaning every word.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She stands on tiptoe to press a kiss to my cheek before adding in a whisper, “I do have an apartment of my own, you know. I don’t live with Mom and Dad anymore. I’m just staying over to help Aria with the baby while they’re out of town.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, skimming one hand up and down the length of her back.
“Yeah. Maybe you’ll get to see my new digs someday,” she says in a teasing voice as she spins out of my arms and starts around the fire. “Come on. Grab a couple of bowls from the bag by the cooler, I’m starving.”
Until a moment ago, I was starving, too. But now all I can think about is being alone with Lark in her apartment, in her bedroom…in her bed. I stand staring, imagining the firelight flickering over her bare skin, knowing she’d be so beautiful it would hurt to look at her, thinking about what part of her I’d kiss first, where my hands would—
“Mason?” she asks. “Bowls?”
I blink. “Right. Bowls.” I jerk into motion, forcing my thoughts back to food and campfires, letting my hand linger in the cooler for a few moments in hopes the ice closing around my fingers will help cool me off.
It works.
Mostly.
“So where are we?” I ask after we settle into two chairs close to the fire.
“My land. I bought it last year. I’m hoping to save up enough money to build a cabin up here in the next year or two.”
“That’s amazing.” I look around the land with new interest. “You always said you wanted to live out in the boonies.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t live here. Most of my business is in Bliss River or Atlanta, so it would be a big commute. But I’ll be able to come here on weekends and vacations.”
I nod as I dig into Lark’s homemade stew, moaning in appreciation. “Damn, this is good.”
She smiles. “It should be. I’m a professional now, you know.” She scoops up a spoonful and reaches for a roll from the paper plate on top of the cooler.
“I know. You should be proud. Starting your own business isn’t easy these days.”
“Thanks.” She lifts her eyes, meeting mine. “It was a ton of work, but it gave me something to focus on after you left.”
For the first time, she mentions me leaving without any anger or sadness or resentment in her voice. It’s simply a fact. A fact that’s in our past, leaving the future open for something more.
Something better.
Things are really different now. I can feel it. The air between us is lighter, our conversation freer, and as the night goes on, Lark doesn’t hesitate to touch my arm, lean against me, let me brush the crumbs from her lips or rest my hand on her thigh as she drives.
By the time she pulls back into the hotel parking lot, I’m feeling brave enough to reach across the car, cup her soft cheek in my hand, and—
“Wait,” she whispers, holding two fingers up between our mouths, keeping my lips from hers. “Not tonight.”
I sink back into my seat, trying not to look disappointed. “Whatever you want.”
“It’s not what I want,” she says, her hand coming to rest on my arm. “I just think it’s for the best. Once I start kissing you…”
“What?” I ask.
“I have a feeling I’m not going to want to stop,” she says in a husky voice that makes me ache in new and powerful ways.
So much for a good night’s sleep. Now I’ll be up all night, replaying that sentence in my head over and over again until I drive myself crazier with wanting her than I am already.
I swallow and reach for the door. “See you tomorrow, then.” I swing out of the car, throwing my next words over my shoulder. “I’ll pick you up at one.”
“What are we doing?” Lark leans across the gearshift to peek up at me.
“I have no idea. I just want to spend as much of tomorrow with you as possible.”
She smiles. “Then pick me up at ten, silly. We’ll go get a late breakfast.”
“I get the whole day?” I ask, feeling like I just won the lottery.
Something better than the lottery.
Something no amount of money can buy.
“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” She smiles a wide, unguarded smile, with no secret sadness in it. “See you at ten.”
“At ten.” I slam the door and she pulls away, but for the first time watching her go doesn’t make me uneasy.
I’m going to see her in less than eleven hours, and I get the entire day with her.
And now we’re on our way back to each other. For real.
And hopefully, for keeps.
Chapter Thirteen
Lark
By the time I creep quietly into my parents’ house, it’s almost midnight. I expect Aria and the baby to be asleep and the house to be dark.
Instead, I find Melody and Aria in pajamas at the kitchen table with mugs of cocoa, two open laptops, and papers scattered across the red tablecloth. I close the door with a soft knick, and both my sisters’ heads pop up, revealing matching guilty expressions.
“What’s going on?” I ask, kicking my shoes off by the front door.
“Nothing,” Melody says, reaching over and closing the nearest laptop. “How was your date?”
“It was fine. Great, actually.” I wander across the family room, while Aria gathers the papers, folds them in half, and shoves them under the second laptop before snapping it closed.
“What have you two been up to?” I ask, shooting the laptops a pointed look.
�
��Just hanging out. Researching things and…things,” Melody says, with a nervous glance Aria’s way.
“Things and things,” I repeat, raising an eyebrow at my little sister. “What are you hiding, Mel?”
“Nothing.” Melody blinks too fast.
“She’s helping me with something,” Aria says. “You know I don’t like being alone in the house when Mom and Dad are gone. Melody offered to come hang out and sleep over, just in case you didn’t come back tonight.”
“Why wouldn’t I come back?” I know Aria is trying to throw me off the scent of whatever she’s up to, but I can’t resist responding to the jab. “I told you I would be home before midnight, and I’m home before midnight.”
“Barely,” Aria says with a sniff.
I cross my arms and nod at the kitchen table. “What’s all this?”
“Just doing some research,” Aria says.
“Research on what?”
“I’m not sure yet, but when I am, I’ll let you know.” Aria picks up her mug. “I’m going to get more cocoa. Anyone else want some? Lark?”
“No thanks,” I mumble.
Something is definitely up, but Aria obviously doesn’t want to tell me what it is.
“So the date was good?” Melody asks, still sounding nervous. Melody is a terrible liar and hates hiding things from the people she loves, even good things. She was twitchy and weird for days before our mom’s surprise fiftieth birthday party.
It could be Aria and Melody are planning some kind of pleasant surprise for me, but I don’t think so. My birthday isn’t for another three months and my gut is telling me that whatever my sisters are up to, I’m not going to approve.
Which is why they’re keeping their mouths, and laptops, shut.
“Mason still on his best behavior?” Melody adds after a moment.
“Yeah,” I say, unable to keep my lips from curving up at the edges. “He was great. I think… I think we’ve turned a corner.”
“What kind of corner?” Aria asks, emerging from the kitchen with a fresh mug of steaming cocoa.
“A trust corner,” I say, ignoring the tightening around her lips. “He really understands what I went through when he left now, and I… I don’t know. I don’t feel angry or afraid anymore. I trust him never to do something like that again.”
“You do?” Aria’s brows shoot up. “And why is that? People don’t change overnight, you know.”
“It hasn’t been overnight,” I say, doing my best to remain calm, not wanting to get sucked into an argument right before bed. “It’s been four years.”
“And who knows what he’s been up to for four years,” Aria says. “He could have slept with every woman in Manhattan. Or been arrested. Or joined a cult. Or become a vegetarian who will never eat bacon with you again. You have no idea.”
“He hasn’t done any of those things,” I say. “And we talked about the other people we dated yesterday. There’s been nothing serious for either one of us.”
“So he says.” Aria sets her cocoa down on the table with a thunk and props her hands on her hips. “You can’t know that’s the truth.”
I lift one shoulder. “I guess I can’t, Aria, but I trust him. He freaked out and left me, but he’s not a liar. He never was.”
Aria sniffs. “We’ll see about that.”
I freeze, my gaze drifting between Melody, Aria, and the table, the computers and papers suddenly making sense. “You’re looking for dirt on Mason?”
“We’re just checking into some things,” Melody says in a placating voice, clearly reading the outrage in my expression. “It’s no big deal. We just want to make sure he’s not going to hurt you again.”
I take a deep breath, doing my best to rein in my anger. “Listen, I know you both mean well, but this isn’t right. This is between Mason and me. I’m the one who has to decide whether or not to trust him again, and what it will take for that to happen.”
“All it takes is a few dates, apparently,” Aria says. “You’re starry eyed after three days, Lark. At this rate, you’ll be pregnant by the end of the week.”
“That’s not fair.” I scowl, barely resisting the urge to say something mean in response.
But you don’t kick someone when they are down, and for all her bluster, Aria is down. Down on men, down on life, and down on hope, which is exactly why she’s so afraid for me to start hoping with Mason.
She isn’t trying to hurt me; she’s trying to protect me.
Even if I’m not asking for protection.
“I’m not trying to be mean,” Aria says in a softer tone. “I’m just worried you’re not thinking clearly.”
“I am thinking clearly, and I’ve done what I needed to do to make me feel good about moving ahead with Mason.” I didn’t tell my sisters what I had planned for Mason tonight before I left for the date, and I don’t want to tell them now. It’s private, between Mason and me. “I trust him, and now I need you two to trust me and quit nosing into Mason’s business.”
Melody nods, looking ashamed, but Aria only crosses her arms and says, “We’ll stop when we get all the facts.”
“No, you’ll stop now. What happens or doesn’t happen between Mason and me is our business, no one else’s.”
Aria huffs. “Well, it was certainly our business when he left you the last time.”
“Aria, don’t,” Melody says, but Aria pushes on.
“How many nights did we sit up with you while you cried over him?” she asks. “Picking apart every detail of your relationship and his proposal and the last night you spent together, looking for some sign, some clue you’d overlooked that would have let you know he was going to run?”
I close my eyes. “That was different.”
“The only thing that’s different is that you’re under his spell again,” Aria says. “But what happens when he leaves the next time, and you’re even more broken than you were before? Are you still going to tell us your relationship with Mason, or lack of relationship with Mason, is none of our business?”
“I won’t come crying to you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I say, opening my eyes, meeting Aria’s hard gaze with one of my own.
“You can always come crying to us,” Melody says, a quiver in her voice. “Come on, y’all, let’s not fight. I hate it when we fight.”
“I’m not fighting,” Aria says. “I’m doing what I think is right for my sister, because I love her and I wish someone had done the same for me before I screwed everything up by trusting a man who didn’t deserve it.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard Aria even hint at what happened with her and Liam, Felicity’s father, and enough to make me hold the verbal dart on the tip of my tongue. Aria has been very tight-lipped when it comes to Liam, saying “it didn’t work out,” and leaving it at that. Even Dad hasn’t been able to get any more information out of her, and Aria has always been a daddy’s girl.
“So, let me snoop. Please,” Aria continues, eyes pleading with mine. “You need someone with a clear head looking out for you. I’ll keep checking up on Mason, and if I don’t find anything, then we won’t have to talk about this ever again. But if I do…”
Aria doesn’t finish her sentence.
She doesn’t have to.
I know what will happen if Aria finds something on Mason. She will try not to gloat about being right. But secretly, she’ll be happy, or at least grimly justified that she was correct in her suspicions.
“Do you want this to fail?” I whisper, tears rising unexpectedly in my eyes. “Just to prove that all men are awful or something? Do you really think that’s true?”
Aria sighs and her eyes begin to shine. “No, babe, of course not. I want you to have everything you’ve dreamed about—an amazing husband and babies and years of wedded bliss. I just…” She presses her lips together. “I know how easy it is to have the wool pulled over your eyes. I just want you to be careful.”
“It’s too late to be careful,” I say, sniffing, tryi
ng not to break out in full-fledged sobs.
I haven’t even admitted it to myself until now, but it’s true.
The second I laid eyes on Mason Stewart, it was too late to resist. He is it, the one. A part of me has been waiting for him to come back since the moment he left, a part that knows no other man will ever touch my heart the way Mason has.
“It’s not too late,” Aria says. “You just need to—”
“It is,” I say firmly. “It was too late the night I saw him at Lisa’s wedding. There is never going to be anyone else for me, Aria. Mason is it. He’s the only man who’s ever made me feel this way.”
“Addicted?” Aria supplies.
“No!” I remember the baby is asleep and lower my voice as I add, “Not addicted. Hopeful. And happy. And understood. He gets me, Ra.” I meet my older sister’s gaze, hoping she’ll understand. “He knows me, inside and out. He’s the only man who has ever made me feel loved for exactly who I am, warts and all.”
“You don’t have any warts. You’re gorgeous, Sissy,” Melody says, using the old nickname from when she was too little to say ‘Lark.’ “You could have any man in Bliss River. Any man in Atlanta!”
“But I don’t want any man,” I say. “It’s Mason or no one. If things don’t work out this time, then that’s it. I’m done dating. I’m done looking for someone to fill the Mason-shaped place inside of me because no one ever will.”
Aria sighs again and slowly shakes her head. “Okay. If that’s the way you feel.” She pulls out a kitchen chair and sinks down into it, hands coming to cup her cocoa.
“Does that mean you’ll stop looking for dirt on Mason?”
“Yes, fine,” Aria mumbles, staring into her mug.
“And could you maybe be a little nicer to him when he comes to pick me up tomorrow morning?” I know I’m pushing it, but if things work out the way I’m hoping they will, then…
Well, then Aria will have to learn to be civil to Mason, sooner or later, because Mason is going to be around for a long, long time.
The thought makes me smile.
“Felicity and I are going to the store tomorrow morning,” Aria says.