Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Cash tasted like coconut and cream. His full lips fit perfectly against hers, and he knew how to both give and take in a way that had Lark’s pulse scattering through her veins.
He touched her in a way she hadn’t been touched in a long time, from a firm press of his palm against the middle of her back to his fingers drifting lazily through her hair along the side of her neck.
His aunt and uncle had put out heaters to ward off the Wyoming chill, and Lark felt like she and Cash had created their own bubble inside that. And it was hot—and getting hotter.
“Lark,” he whispered, the word like music in his deep, cowboy tone. She chased after his mouth again, kissing him this time, because he’d started something she didn’t want to end.
Something inside her told her to pull away, but it still took her a few long seconds—and just one more kiss—until she could force herself to do it.
Her awareness returned almost instantly, and Cash turned away from her and stepped half in front of her in the same move. It was then that she realized the song had ended. Not only that, but the last smatterings of applause waned as well, which meant she’d kissed him for far too long.
A hint of panic paraded through her. Had she ruined things with him before they’d even truly begun?
No, she told herself. That kiss was only the start of something she hoped would be very, very good for her.
And he’d started it.
Maybe she’d gone a little too far, and her face flamed with embarrassment and the memory of his lips against hers. Insistent. Caring. Soft, then inquisitive again, a rise and fall she hadn’t experienced before.
Truthfully, Lark hadn’t experienced much when it came to men, and that too sent a tremor of unease through her.
She blinked as Tex Young said something into the mic, and when she found her focus again, she discovered more than one uncle looking directly at Cash.
That wasn’t good, and Lark cowered another inch or two behind him. Thankfully, he had the broad shoulders required to shield her from unpleasant things, and right now, the gazes of his aunts and uncles stung.
“So let’s welcome Harry, Bryce, OJ, and Belle to the stage.”
The crowd clapped again, and this time, Lark joined them. The eyes turned toward the people moving up onto stage, and she relaxed a little bit now that the spotlight didn’t shine directly on her.
“We should leave early,” Cash whispered, barely ducking his head to speak to her.
Lark frowned as he faced the stage again, and she couldn’t see his face. “Why would we do that?”
“Because,” he said. “I kissed you, and they all saw it.”
“I’m pretty sure I kissed you too.”
“And I’m not sorry about any of it,” Cash said.
Neither was Lark, and a certain warmth filled her chest to hear him say such a thing, and a tiny smile decorated the edges of her mouth, pulling her lips up slightly when she realized he wasn’t upset about her hungry, almost desperate craving to have his mouth united with hers.
“I’ll follow your lead,” she whispered back, her fingers around his lower bicep tightening. “Okay, King?”
He dipped his head then, and Lark could practically hear the questions in his head. King? What does that mean?
She also knew by the way he didn’t outright demand to know right now that he didn’t entirely hate the nickname. Silliness ran through Lark, but she wanted to have something fun and intimate to call Cash, and he sure seemed to enjoy using Songbird for her.
She had her reasons for King, and it had actually felt semi-natural to say it. If they left early, perhaps she and Cash could talk about it on the way home to Dog Valley.
Or in the hot tub tonight, Lark thought, sliding her free hand into her pocket to take a peek at her phone. Only eight-forty-five. Yes, she still had time, as the night was barely beginning.
“Hit it, boys!” Otis Young yelled from up on stage, and the expanded group of them launched into a rousing, countrified rendition of Jingle Bells.
Lark loved the atmosphere here, especially when Trace started them all clapping on the beat. And when OJ—the youngest person on stage—stepped up to the mic and yelled, “Everybody now!” the whole family joined in on the chorus.
Lark included.
The scent of bacon frying and coffee brewing woke Lark the following morning. No, she and Cash had not left early, and she’d been so tired, she’d fallen asleep on the long drive from the eastern edge of Coral Canyon back to her family home in Dog Valley.
For some reason, she’d skipped hot tubbing with Cash, though she’d spent a half-dozen texts assuring him she was just tired.
And she had been—and still was.
She’d laid awake for a long time last night, going over and over and over kissing Cash on a makeshift dance floor with everyone in his family watching. They’d left with the first wave of Youngs departing the Pie Bar after the concert, but she’d still endured plenty of unwanted attention.
No one said anything to Cash, but his father’s dark-as-pitch eyes had followed the two of them out to the truck. He’d hugged Cash and said, “Text me when you get back. The roads are dark tonight.”
Cash had promised he would, and Lark had no doubt he’d kept that promise. Just like he’d told her he’d be making a scrumptious Thanksgiving Day breakfast, as their main turkey feast wouldn’t be until four-thirty that evening.
“That leaves time for pie before bed,” Cash had explained, and she saw so many of his family traditions shining through in the things he did.
Heck, he’d even asked if she, Wade, and Jet would like to go with him up to Whiskey Mountain Lodge tomorrow, hike out into the forest, and cut down the Christmas tree.
As Lark lay in bed, the delicious smells of breakfast still wafting around her, she smiled. She’d informed him that she wasn’t an outdoor person.
“That’s putting it lightly,” Wade had said with a loud guffaw, which had earned him a glare from Lark.
But the man said whatever he thought, without hardly a moment to censor himself. So he’d continued with, “She’s an indoor cat, Cash. Doesn’t even like the rain on her skin.”
He’d blinked at Wade, then Jet, and finally Lark. She hadn’t denied it, because yes, Lark enjoyed being comfortable, and cold and wet didn’t qualify.
“But you’re from Wyoming,” he’d said, and that had caused her brothers to laugh again.
Lark’s smile faded, though her brothers had been fairly agreeable this week. They’d given her a little bit of grief over her brand-new, still-budding relationship with Cash, but most of their teasing had been aimed at him.
They’d told him things Lark would’ve never brought up in the first three days of getting to know a man she was interested in. She scoffed at herself. “I’m not sure you’ve ever been interested in someone the way you’re interested in Cash.”
And that right there was why she’d let him have his private time in the hot tub last night. She knew she’d been infringing on his late-night downtime, the few minutes each day he could reflect, talk to God and the stars, and get settled for the night.
Cash had graciously allowed her to take up that space, claiming he liked having her so close and that she was the only one he’d allow into the hot tub with him. She wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but she’d sure like it to be.
A knock sounded on her door, and she couldn’t tell if it was Jet or Cash. She pulled the comforter up to her chin and glued her gaze to the door. “Yeah, I’m up.”
The door creaked open a few inches, and the most delicious, dark-haired, dark-eyed cowboy poked his head in. Lark pulled in a slow breath through her nose as Cash grinned at her and said, “Good morning, princess.”
“Did I sleep too late?” she asked.
“Breakfast is almost ready.” He pushed the door all the way open and stepped into the room, glancing down the hall toward the kitchen. Her brothers had taken their old bedrooms upstairs in the house, and she and Cash had been alone on the main level.
Cash toed the door closed behind him and clutched the doorknob with both hands behind his back. “At the risk of ruining the holiday, I wanted to talk to you.”
Lark watched him for a long moment, her tongue too thick in the back of her throat to speak. She found his eyes crinkling, and that alleviated some of her own nerves. “And you thought talking to me would ruin Thanksgiving?”
“It’s more the topic of conversation.”
Lark sat up, making sure her pajama top covered her properly. She could only imagine what her mother or Grammy would say otherwise. Her legs got tangled in her blankets for a moment, and then it pulled free. “Okay, I’m ready now.”
Cash didn’t move a muscle. “I can’t help but feel like you’ve put a bit of distance between us since last night.” His eyes flashed with dark fire. “Since I kissed you.”
Lark sighed and ran one hand through her messy curls. “Maybe,” she said.
“Which, for you, is a yes,” he said, tilting his head. “Why?”
Because he’d kissed her so completely, she was now ruined for anyone else. Because she’d been too eager, given away too much, shown how terribly lonely and…needy she was. Because his touch was like cool water after a lifetime of drought.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, because she couldn’t actually say what ran through her head.
“Untrue,” he said simply, the word clipping out between lips that barely moved. And Lark would know, because she couldn’t look away from that mouth. “You know why.”
“How many texts have you gotten about it?” she asked.
“You’re embarrassed my aunts and uncles saw us,” he said, his boxy shoulders drooping.
“Yes,” Lark said, seizing onto that for an excuse.
“I was too forward. Too desperate. Too—” She sucked in a breath as she realized what she’d said.
Cash’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed again, almost like he was scrutinizing her on the outside while trying to make sense of what she’d said.