9. Wyatt
WYATT
I could see Lark plain as day, creeping on us from the apartment’s kitchen window that overlooked the driveway and main house. She may have thought she was stealthy, but my eye flicked to the upper level with every flutter of the thin, ruffled curtains.
I made quick work of unloading the car. Penny hauled her light-blue suitcase with flowers on it up the front porch steps and chatted away at Kevin, who stayed quiet and nodded at whatever she was rambling on about.
As we unloaded, I gestured the boys toward the house and silently hoped this summer wasn’t the shit show it was lined up to be.
Kevin, Michael, and Joey filed inside, and I couldn’t help but notice when Lark bounded happily down the rickety steps of the old barn apartment.
A flash of her stumbling on the steep, nearly rotted wood made my shoulders bunch.
I’d have to find a way to fix the worst spots without her noticing.
Don’t want her suing Tootie and all.
She was dressed for another run, and a prickle of awareness crept down my forearms. Her tight black leggings left zero room for imagination, and they hugged every one of her dangerous curves.
My jaw flexed. Even her top rode high on her rib cage.
It was hot enough today that she didn’t bother with another hoodie.
When Joey stopped dead in his tracks to take his own look, I clamped a hand on his shoulder and helped him forward with a light shove.
“Go on in.”
Joey nodded and I followed behind him, though my eyes stayed glued to Lark the entire time she made her way to the small opening of the trailhead at the back of the property.
My eyes scanned above the trees. We were headed into summer, but it was getting late, and the evening sun was already dipping over the tree line.
I pushed down the small wave of worry and shook my head as I followed my unlikely foursome into the house.
Hopefully, the woman would keep her clothes on this time.
* * *
It was too dark for Lark to still be out on her run.
Pickle and the boys had settled into their rooms by dumping their duffel bags in the middle of the floor. Penny would have the room closest to mine, and the boys had opted for sharing the finished loft on the top floor of the old farmhouse.
Little did they know, that damn loft squeaked and groaned with the lightest footsteps.
There’d be no sneaking out and finding trouble if the thought dared to cross their minds.
It was my job to keep them healthy and out of trouble for a few months so they wouldn’t have the opportunity to throw away their careers before they even started, and I was taking it seriously—whether they liked it or not.
I wasn’t such a hard-ass that I was keeping them under lock and key, but unfortunately for them it also meant check-ins and curfews.
Earlier tonight they had piled into Michael’s beat-up car and headed into town.
Knowing the tourist season hadn’t ramped up quite yet, and without the influx of people keeping the businesses open, there was very little to do in Outtatowner.
I was betting they’d be back in an hour. Two, tops.
When I stepped onto the porch, my eyes darted to the dark window of Lark’s apartment, and worry settled in my neck.
With Penny tucked in bed, I snagged a beer from the fridge and sat on the top step.
My back leaned against the post, and I looked out across the yard toward the small opening in the trees that served as the trailhead.
If she wasn’t home by the time the boys got back, I was going looking for her.
The crushed limestone path was easy to follow during the day, but I had no clue what her navigational skills were, and the last thing I needed was for her to get lost or break her neck.
The moon was full, but the canopy of the trees allowed very little light to shine through onto the trail.
I took a sip of my beer and tried to quell the overprotective, intrusive thoughts that crept up. Normally those nagged me only when Penny was away or she was going somewhere new without me.
I’ll just drown them out with a beer.
When it wasn’t doing the trick, I set the bottle aside. As I was about to stand, the sound of an off-key rendition of “Neon Moon” floated across the yard. I squinted and tried to see through the thick darkness.
The song coursed through me, and a hazy, distant memory of bouncing in the front seat of my father’s beat-up old truck flooded my brain.
I’d loved riding shotgun in Dad’s old Ford.
He’d pop in a cassette of George Strait or Tim McGraw or Brooks & Dunn while I hung out the window and made an airplane of my arms.
The memory was like a bruise, and I swept it aside as soon as the chartreuse yellow of Lark’s tennis shoes contrasted against the dark grass. She was hauling ass across the yard, still singing.
Loudly.
I settled back into my darkened spot, watching her as she crossed the grass and stopped on the gravel between the barn and the house.
She huffed out a deep sigh and bent at the waist to catch her breath.
I grunted in frustration. “Kind of dark for a walk.” I internally flinched at my own words, sounding like more of a prick than I’d meant to.
Lark’s startled scream rang through the night air, and she jumped back and clutched her chest.
“Whoa. Sorry.” I lifted my hand. “It’s me. Wyatt.”
Real smooth.
“Shit. Hey.” Lark was breathless, and I forced myself to stay focused on her face and not the way her shirt stretched across her chest with every breath.
“What are you doing out here?”
Lark exhaled an audible huff. “I could ask you the same thing. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
My jaw ticced at her ribbing. “Just wanted to be alone.”
She looked at me but stayed silent. I hated that with her my default mode seemed to be permanently stuck on dickbag , and I couldn’t quite figure out why .
Especially considering I was spending far too much time thinking about how the fading light turned her hazel eyes a rich shade of moss and cedar.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “I was enjoying a peaceful country night until Brooks & Dunn crashed the party.”
Even in the dim lighting I could see her shy smile as she brushed a piece of rich brown hair away from her face. I wanted to reach out and feel the softness of the strands through my fingertips. I flexed my fingers instead.
“Oh. Yeah.” She laughed. “I sort of misjudged the sunset and spent the last twenty minutes walking in the dark. To keep myself from totally freaking out, I cranked my headphones up as loud as they could go and sang at the top of my lungs. I thought it might scare away any creatures that might mess with me.”
“Well, what you’re doing is scaring away the neighbors.”
“We have neighbors?” Lark looked around as if she’d missed a house or something. We were coated in darkness.
I huffed a laugh and took the last swig of my beer. “Just you.”
The barn also loomed in the shadows, and Lark looked at the darkened stairs.
I need to change that light bulb too.
I was about to go back to my solitude when she surprised the hell out of me.
“Got any more of those?”
I gestured with my empty bottle. “A beer?”
“Yeah. It’s hot. I worked up a thirst.”
Her words hung in the air. I was sure she didn’t mean anything by them, but my body had all kinds of devious thoughts about how we might work up a thirst together. In my younger, wilder days, I could’ve had her in my lap in less than half a beer.
“I’ve got an extra.” I unfolded myself and went inside as Lark waited. I slipped through the front door and tossed my empty bottle in the recycling with a loud clank— Shit.
I went stiff as I listened for Penny. The house was silent, so I pulled open the refrigerator door.
On our way back from getting the boys, we’d stopped at the small local grocery store and picked up a few supplies.
The six-pack was an impulse buy, but now that Lark was waiting just outside my doorway, I was half-glad I’d snagged it.
Before heading back outside, I held both bottles in one hand and paused at the end of the hallway and listened again. No stirring from the back of the house. I ran a hand through my hair, hoping it wasn’t a total mess before scolding myself.
Who gives a shit what your hair looks like?
I reminded myself that Lark wasn’t a woman I was chasing. She was a friend of Tootie’s—no, not even that. An employee. She was also bold and unpredictable. Too cheerful. A nuisance.
Nodding at myself for thinking clearly and not making decisions with my dick, I headed toward the front door. The last thing I needed was drama with a woman when I was barely keeping this ship upright as it was.
Even if in the short time I’d known her, Lark had somehow come to occupy every waking thought—and that was a problem.
Even if she was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever laid eyes on and even considering the fact I knew firsthand she was just as gorgeous underneath her clothing, which nearly killed me.
The image of Lark rising up out of Wabash Lake, water running down her back, had made for an interesting shower when I’d jerked off to the thought of her and tried to finish as quickly—and quietly—as possible. Staying here with Penny and the boys made me feel like a teenager again.
When I stepped onto the porch, Lark was sitting on the top step, opposite of where I’d been posted up.
“Man, it is dark around here.”
“Yep.” I handed a bottle of beer to her, and when she used the hem of her shirt to pop open the top and take a healthy swig, I almost smiled.
“Mmm.” Her throaty moan wasn’t doing me any favors. “Thank you.” She turned the label around and laughed as she read it. “Beer Thirty— Any time is the right time .”
“It was all they had.”
“Is that a mountain with an arm sticking out of it... holding a beer?”
“Yep.”