Chapter 6
Chapter Six
LIAM
A fter a solid two-hour workout at the gym, the majority of my irritation with my new houseguest has drained away and I realize I may have let my emotions get the better of me. I had no right to call Lark a brat and even less of a right to throw my relationship with Keelan in her face the way I did.
I send my daily silent thanks up to whatever deity hangs out in the sky as I slow to a walk in front of my house after running home from the gym. The fact that Echo Cove is so small I rarely have to get my bike out was a huge plus when I was looking to move here, and I take advantage of it as often as I can by walking or running everywhere.
Silence greets me when I walk in the door, and I notice Lark’s luggage still sits in the mudroom where we left it earlier. Worry has my stomach twisting uncomfortably, because she doesn’t seem like the type to leave her things out.
“Lark?” I call out. Concern laces my tone, but I can’t bring myself to disguise it. There are fresh cookies on the counter, and I’m not sure if it was her or my mom that made them considering the kitchen looks exactly as it did when I left.
When I don’t hear a response, my worry grows, nearing panic. I race up the stairs, each footstep thudding in time with my heart. Coming to a stop in front of her now open door, I heave a sigh of relief when I see her passed out on top of the covers on her bed.
I remember her saying something about being up for more than thirty-six hours, so I’m not surprised she crashed the moment she was safe and settled. Keelan texted me during my workout, so I know she called him and filled him in on her recent events.
While she’s sleeping, I take the opportunity to study her softened features. She’s so much more relaxed in sleep, and I can’t help but wonder what her personality is like when she’s warmed up to someone. Clearly we got off on the wrong foot today, but I’m hopeful that if I apologize for my behavior she’ll soften enough that we can develop a friendship, even if only for Keelan’s sake.
It sounds like Lark might be here for good, and if her twin is truly planning to slow down on the touring and move home, she and I will most likely be seeing a lot of each other. I think it’s a good idea to try and bond with her. Or at the very least get to a place where we aren’t snapping at each other during every interaction.
Her eyebrows scrunch and she lets out a pitiful whimpering noise that spurs me into action and before I even realize what’s happening, I’m kneeling next to the bed and placing a gentle hand on Lark’s shoulder.
She sighs in content, her lashes fluttering for the briefest moment before they open and her gorgeous blue irises come into view, framed by thick blonde lashes and a galaxy of freckles. The contrast of her pale blue eyes against the red streaks in her hair is striking and stuns me every time. She reminds me of this crazy-rare Brazilian flower Quesnelia lateralis, and if they weren’t impossible to find, I might plant some in my greenhouse.
Not because I want to be reminded of Lark or anything. It would just be nice to add some color to the mostly green space.
“Oh my god!” she screeches, scaring the hell out of me. She shoots up to a sitting position, and I scramble backwards, all too aware of how fucking creepy I must look in this moment.
“I-I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to creep on you or invade your privacy, I just got home from the gym and noticed your luggage and stuff was still downstairs, so I got worried something had happened, even though Echo Cove is hands down the safest place I’ve ever lived before. But I ran up here to check on you and saw you sleeping, and you just looked so peaceful. But then you started whimpering like you were having a nightmare, and…well, you know the rest.”
The grimace I can feel taking over my expression right now is embarrassing, but not as mortifying as the blush heating my cheeks. I’m not an anxious rambler. In fact I’m normally quite the opposite.
The people closest to me are used to my occasional nervous silences, but for some reason I can’t seem to keep my damn mouth closed around Keelan’s sister.
A hysterical sounding giggle leaves her lips, and she quickly slaps a hand over her mouth as her cheeks flush. “Wow,” she mumbles from behind her hand. “We really can’t seem to get off on the right foot here.”
Chuckling, I sit back on my heels and scrub a hand over the back of my neck. “I feel like that’s partly my fault. I had no right to say the things I did earlier, and I owe you an apology. Keelan is my best friend, but he’s your twin . It seems like we’re going to end up spending a lot of time together, and I’d like it if we could be friends. Or at the very least, friendlier than we have been thus far.”
“I’m the one who owes you an apology, Liam,” Lark murmurs, surprising me. “You opened your home to me on no notice with no qualms and I took out my exhaustion and frustration on you. Keelan read me the riot act about it, too.”
Ouch.
I know firsthand what it feels like when Keelan turns those blue eyes on you and analyzes your life choices. It’s almost as bad as when my mom does it and takes me right back to feeling like that kid who always said the wrong thing at the wrong time.
“So anyway, I really am sorry for my childish behavior today. I’m sure everyone warned you I can be a little…much. And I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want me staying here anymore after the way I treated you. But please know there will be no hard feelings either way. You and Carol have both been so kind and I appreciate it more than you know.”
Silly girl. Even if I wanted to kick her out, my mom has practically already adopted her and wouldn’t hear of it. Speaking of…
“Okay so we can definitely continue this conversation later but speaking of my mom, have you seen or heard her wandering around anywhere? She always stays with me when she’s in town but I didn’t see her or her things when I came home.”
Lark gets a confused look on her face and glances around like she’s expecting my mother to pop out of the closet. “Umm…no?”
I raise a brow at the hesitance in her tone.
“Okay so I had a dream that someone was loudly serenading me with off-key ABBA songs while they fed me cookies, but I fully thought that was just because I was hungry and had watched the Mamma Mia movies on the flight over,” she huffs.
Clapping a hand over my mouth doesn’t contain the laughter that her confession causes. Carol Blackwell is an avid ABBA fan, so she was likely singing her heart out while panic baking. Mom has always been the peacemaker in our family, so when she noticed Lark and I snapping at each other she probably decided baked goods were in order to calm the turbulent waters.
“If you spend any time with my mother, which I assure you is more than likely, you’ll learn she has a penchant for musicals and anything involving ABBA . I’m warning you now, we have at least one movie night every time she’s in town.”
Lark’s face lights up in a way I haven’t seen from her yet, and it sends tingles down my spine and a twitch through my cock. God, why does Keelan’s sister have to be so fucking pretty? If she keeps smiling at me like that, living with her is going to be torture.
My body’s response is embarrassing me, so of course the next words out of my mouth have to make the whole situation worse. “You know, for someone so small you sure can hold a lot of hostility. Your brother and parents warned me you could be a little standoffish when you first meet someone, but I wasn’t expecting talking to you to be like trying to hug a cactus.”
There’s that cute little scowl again.
“Excuse you?” she growls indignantly. “Listen, pal. That’s like the fourth time you’ve compared me to a cactus today, and it’s getting old. I am not prickly. You’re just exceptionally good at pushing my buttons. ”
Smirking at her, I stand and offer a hand to help her up. She takes it with great reluctance and I use the opportunity to pull her close and tuck a strand of vivid red hair behind her ear. “Sure thing, Red.”
I know I’m playing with fire every time I intentionally use that damn nickname, but what other choice do I have if she doesn’t want me calling her a little cactus?
Lark huffs in frustration and throws up her hands as she stomps out of the room. I wait until I can hear her footsteps near the bottom of the stairs before reaching a hand in my shorts to adjust myself.
The last thing I need is for her to know how attracted I am to her and tattle to Keelan. That’s just asking to be punched in the face. Plus, she just got out of a relationship and doesn’t need a lonely guy panting after her and making her uncomfortable in what’s now her home too.
The truth is, I’m ready to settle down. I’m thirty-one, run a successful business, and because I was smart with my investments a decade ago I technically would never have to work again if I didn’t want to. I want a woman to share my life with as an equal partner, and if there’s a cute puppy or four thrown into the mix then even better.
Loud laughter from downstairs brings me out of my daydreaming and I realize with a start that I’ve been standing here with my hand down my pants like a fucking pervert. If having Lark here for less than a day is already throwing me off this much, what are the next few weeks, or, god forbid, months , going to be like?
As I make my way down the stairs, two things quickly become clear. The first, that the scent of fresh berries and vanilla I’ve been smelling since I got home is not from the cookies on the counter. And the second, is that having Lark and my mom in the same room is apparently always going to end in embarrassment for me.
Lark and my mom sit close together on the couch, huddled over a large book that my mom must have brought with her from back home. She still lives in Vancouver, Canada, where I grew up. So it’s about a six-hour drive from there to here, but she usually flies into Seattle and then takes the shuttle the rest of the way. It makes the trip longer, but my mother is nothing if not a creature of habit.
“What are you two giggling about?” I ask suspiciously.
Mom glances over the back of the couch and smiles at me mischievously. Her smile is just a touch too wide, and it raises my hackles.
“Oh nothing,” she sing-songs. “I had the foresight to bring one of your baby books with me so you’d have it. You know, in case of any grandchildren I may get in the near future.”
I could kill my mother.
Lark looks to me with wide eyes that if I’m not mistaken, are filled with something that looks suspiciously like hurt. “Are you in a relationship?”
My eyes widen in shock, and I choke on my own spit. Beating a fist on my chest, I barely manage to cough out a “no” as Mom cackles.
“No, Lark. My son is a perpetual bachelor with no desire for children in spite of his mother’s pleas for him to find a nice girl and settle down. Trust me, I’ve been beating that dead horse for years now.” She turns to me with delight written all over her face. “After all, I’m not getting any younger. Pretty soon I’ll be too old to enjoy any time with potential grand babies.”
I scowl at my mother and hike a thumb over my shoulder. “And on that note, I’m going to shower. Lark, would you like to head into town and grab dinner in a bit? I just got back from a work trip and have absolutely no food in the fridge.”
Lark turns a confused look to my mom, and Mom smiles kindly at her. “If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I always spend my first night in town having a picnic on the beach with my Greg, and before I leave we’ll do a family paddle boarding trip, which you’re more than welcome to join.”
That nearly sets off another round of coughing. Mom has never let anyone else in on our little rituals. Hell, I’m not even sure Keelan knows about them, and we’ve been friends for years.
An uncomfortable ache blooms in my chest, and I hightail it up the stairs, leaving the two women to bond without me. Thinking about my dad’s accident always puts me in a pretty dark headspace, so I try to reserve those thoughts for paddle boarding with Mom when I can let the memories wash away with each calm lap of the waves over my board.
I know one day I’ll have to share that pain with my future partner, but today is not that day, and Lark is not that person, so I shove it down and trudge up the stairs, ready to wash off this day.