Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)(13)
Me: I already have plans for lunch. Do you want to join me?
Lark McCapSnatcher: What kind of plans?
Me: Meet me at the library at 1 and I’ll show you. If you have enough balls.
Lark McCapSnatcher: Last time I checked, I had no balls at all.
Me: 1 o’clock? Library?
Lark McCapSnatcher: You talked me into it.
Me: Now pick my cap up before it gets pissed on.
Lark McCapSnatcher: (Sends me a selfie with her wearing my cap)
Me: Prettiest thing I’ve seen all day.
Lark McCapSnatcher: The cap?
Me: The girl in the cap.
Lark McCapSnatcher: Gotta go throw some cold water on my face. Totally blushing here.
Me: You want to talk about my dick? It’ll take your mind off your blush.
Lark McCapSnatcher: Dude, that just went weird.
Me: My dick wants you to know that it has balls. Since you don’t have any.
She doesn’t reply.
Me: Did I just skeeve you out?
Lark McCapSnatcher: No, I was too busy laughing to catch my breath. Your dick has balls. That’s handy. They come as a matching set, I hear.
Me: You mean I’m not unique?
Lark McCapSnatcher: Not when it comes to your junk, I’m afraid. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.
Me: Better the bearer of bad news than the wearer of bad shoes. Just sayin’.
Lark McCapSnatcher: I’ll see you at 1 at the library.
Me: Don’t wear bad shoes.
Lark McCapSnatcher: I don’t own any bad shoes. And I’m officially offended.
Me: Talking about my dick didn’t offend you but talking about your shoes does?
Lark McCapSnatcher: Shoes are sacred.
Me: So is my dick.
Lark McCapSnatcher: Prove it.
I swipe a hand across my mouth, trying to wipe away the silly grin I know is plastered across it.
Logan sits down across from me. “You’ve been laughing at your phone for the last five minutes.”
I hold it up. “L-A-R-K,” I tell him.
He nods. “You going to let the hearing thing stand between you?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He grins. “Good.”
Me: I want another date with you.
Lark McCapSnatcher: I’ll think about it.
Me: See you at 1.
Lark McCapSnatcher: See you then!
Lark
He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt, and he’s the most handsome man standing in front of the library. He’s with a small group of people signing, and I hesitate to interrupt. After a minute or two, he sees me and motions me over. He’s smiling, and his friends look curious.
“This is my friend Lark,” he signs. “I invited her to join us.” He introduces his friends really quickly. Then he stops next to a man who looks a lot like him, but he’s a little stockier and his hair is darker. “This is my brother Mick.”
I stick out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” He doesn’t sign it. He says it. I look at Ryan. I thought everyone in his family was deaf.
“He’s the oddball who can hear,” Ryan says. “But our parents kept him anyway.”
I must still look confused.
“He’s just jealous because I can hear the pretty girls whistle at me.” Mick smiles and looks at me like I have two heads. Or four boobs. Or something else he can’t quite figure out. “You look shocked,” he says.
“A little, actually.” We walk as a group into the library.
“Not nearly as shocked as I am,” Mick says quietly so that only I can hear. “I’ve never seen him with a hearing girl. Speaking of which, don’t find yourself alone in a corner with any of them. I’m not sure they like you.” He nods toward the girls, who don’t look that happy to see me.
“I’ll be right back,” Ryan says to me and he walks over to talk with a person behind the circulation desk.
“So, what do you do for a living, Lark?” Mick asks.
I grin. He doesn’t know who I am. “I’m a musician.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “And for some reason, that’s making you look suspicious as hell.”
I shrug my shoulders and wallow in the joy of having him not know who I am. It’s freeing.
“So how did my deaf brother, who can’t hear music, hook up with a musician?” He rocks back on his heels and smiles down at me.
“He gave me a tattoo.”
“And…” He pauses and draws it out like the word will go on forever.
“And I stole his baseball cap. I’m holding it hostage so he’ll go out with me again.”
He smiles. “Again?”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. “We’ll see.”
Ryan turns and motions me forward. As we walk around the corner, his hand slides into mine and he looks down at me and smiles. It’s a sleepy, guilty little smile, and my heart starts to trip.
Mick looks at our clasped hands and looks away quickly, but I’m pretty sure I saw him biting back a grin.
We walk into a large room with a group of children sitting on the floor. They’re all facing a woman who’s sitting on a stool beside a stack of books. Expectation hangs heavy in the air, like a kid waiting to lick the beaters when Mom’s making a cake. The woman at the front of the room waves as we walk in.