Chapter 33
The nagging feeling had been with Lark for days. She couldn’t put a name to it, which made it worse.
Something had changed. Not between her and Cormac. If anything, that had become frighteningly good. They’d spent every night together since their first time, and each morning she woke with the same sense of wonder that this man had somehow become hers—or perhaps she’d become his.
Cormac’s shoulder was healing, too. He exercised it carefully every day, gradually gaining more range of motion. She’d caught him doing the exercises more than once and teased him about being incapable of sitting still.
But something else was happening. He was worried. She could see it in the way his jaw tightened when his phone rang. In the way his eyes sometimes went distant when he thought she wasn’t watching. In the way the guys from Condor’s Overwatch kept dropping by.
Nobody said anything. Which, naturally, made Lark suspicious. She’d asked Cormac repeatedly what was going on. He always gave her some version of, “We’re handling it.”
She hated those words. They reminded her far too much of her family. She’d spent her entire life being told that other people knew what was best for her. She wasn’t going to start living that way again. Especially not now that she’d finally built a life that belonged to her.
Her store was still waiting. She needed to get back there soon if she intended to open on schedule. Artists were waiting to bring in their work. The co-op space needed organizing. And, most importantly, her Liberty Bell still wasn’t finished. She couldn’t put her life on hold any longer.
Which was why, on a beautiful, clear morning several days later, Lark wandered into the kitchen and found Cormac pouring coffee. “I think today is the day.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “The day for what?”
“The bell.”
The expression on his face changed instantly. “No.”
Lark blinked. She’d expected concern. Maybe an argument. Not a flat refusal. “No?”
“You’re not going to the island.”
Her fingers tightened around the mug she’d just picked up. “I’m sorry?” she asked, unable to believe her ears.
Cormac set down the coffee pot. “You heard me.”
Something hot and familiar began crawling up her spine. “I need to finish my work.”
“Then work somewhere else.”
“The bell is on the island.”
“I know.”
“Then I’m going to the island.”
His jaw tightened. “Lark.”
There was something in his tone that made her hackles rise. Not fear. Not concern.
Command.
“You don’t get to decide where I go.”
His expression hardened. “When armed men are looking for you, yeah, I damn well do.”
The words hung between them. Lark stared at him. For one awful second, she couldn’t breathe. She knew that tone. She’d heard variations of it her entire life.
You don’t understand.
We’re only doing this because we know what’s best.
You can’t possibly make this decision yourself. Not the right decision.
Her mother’s voice. Her father’s. Bradley’s. All the people who had spent years trying to shape her into someone she wasn’t.
And now Cormac. The man she’d trusted more than anyone.
“The hell you do.”
Cormac’s eyes narrowed. “I'm trying to keep you alive.”
“And I’m trying to live my life.”
“Your life is currently the target of armed men.”
“Then maybe you should tell me what’s actually going on!”
Silence. That silence told her more than his words had. Lark’s eyes flashed.
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You know something and you won’t tell me.”
“We’re still figuring it out.”
“And in the meantime, I’m supposed to sit here?”
“If that’s what keeps you safe, yes.”
Her laugh was short and bitter. “Of course.”
“Lark—”
“No.” She put her mug down harder than necessary. “You don’t get to lock me away because you’re scared.”
His expression changed. “I am scared.”
The admission stopped her. Cormac’s shoulders dropped slightly, and for the first time she saw beneath the hard exterior. There was fear there. Real fear. It softened her anger for half a heartbeat.
Then she remembered the rest. “That’s not protection, Cormac. That’s control.”
The word hit him like a physical blow. His face went still. Lark watched something flicker behind his eyes. Regret. She knew instantly she’d struck something deeper than she’d intended.
Cormac looked away, jaw working. “You’re right.”
She hadn’t expected that. “What?”
“You’re right.” He rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled.
“I know what control looks like. And I know what you’ve been through.
” His eyes came back to hers. “But it’s only been a few days since I saw a woman I love walk into a situation that nearly killed her once already, and every instinct I’ve got is screaming at me to stop it from happening again. ”
Her anger faltered. “A woman you love?”
Cormac froze. Apparently, he’d realized what he’d just said at exactly the same moment she had.
Lark’s heart slammed against her ribs. He looked almost annoyed with himself. “That’s what you heard?”
“It’s kind of difficult to miss.”
Despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitched. “Of course, that’s what you focused on.”
“Cormac.”
His expression softened. “Yes.”
One word. No hesitation this time. Lark swallowed hard. “I love you, too.”
His eyes closed briefly, as though the words had hit him somewhere he wasn’t prepared for. When he opened them again, the anger was gone.
So was the command.
He crossed the space between them and stopped in front of her. “I don’t want to control you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to become another person telling you what you’re allowed to do.”
“You’re not.”
“But I can’t promise I’ll stop worrying.”
She smiled faintly. “I don’t want you to.”
He reached for her hand. “But the island isn’t safe.”
She sighed. “I know.”
“I’ll take you to your shop to work. But can we skip the island… for now?”
Lark considered arguing. Instead, she squeezed his fingers. “Fine.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Fine?”
“For now.”
A reluctant smile appeared. “I’ll take it.”
She pointed a warning finger at him. “But this doesn’t mean you get to make all my decisions.”
“I know.”
“And if you start acting like my overprotective caveman again—”
“Caveman?”
“—I’ll remind you that I survived being kidnapped, shot at, nearly drowned, and dragged your heavy ass through a forest.”
His mouth twitched. “You’re really going to use that as evidence that you’re good at making decisions?”
“Yes.”
“You jumped into a raging river with your hands tied.”
She smiled sweetly. “And saved your life.”
Cormac stared at her. Then he shook his head, a reluctant laugh escaping him. “Fuck me.”
Lark leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Pretty sure I can help with that,” she purred while unbuttoning her shirt and sliding it off her shoulders. With the fabric gracefully fluttering to the floor, a challenging grin spread across her face as she met his gaze.
“Don’t stop there, little bird,” he demanded. “Pants too.”
She didn’t hesitate to do what he ordered, sliding her jeans down to her feet then kicking them away.
“Perfect.” Just the sound of his voice uttering that one word, low and seductive, turned her on. She didn’t just hear his voice, she felt it deep in her chest. It wasn’t surprising that her panties were now soaked.
He eyed her up and down, taking in every inch of her exposed skin.
And the not so exposed part. Then he lifted her by the hips and placed her on the little kitchen table.
It wobbled briefly and she worried it wouldn’t hold her weight.
But that worry flew out the window when he pushed her flat onto her back.
“Hungry?” she asked as she watched him kneel between her legs.
“Starved.”
Without another word, he yanked her panties off. He wasted no time, blazing a path of kisses down her belly to the apex of her thighs. Before she could register those sensations, he’d thrown her ankles over his shoulders, and buried his face between her legs.
“Oh, God,” she gasped under the assault of his mouth.
Her fingers dug into his scalp as he took her high.
Then higher still. He turned her inside out.
Slow, deliberate strokes. Tormenting quick flicks.
Wet-velvet friction so hot it almost burned.
He plunged his tongue deep only to circle and flit and swirl and then… detonation.
Only one thought remained. This man was dangerous.