One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(22)

The singular thought ran on a loop in my head as I tried to ignore the faintest outline of her pussy beneath the thin material between her toned thighs.

Her eyes move back to me, dancing with mischief, as always. She shrugged. “It’s not that late.”

My skin tingled. I recognized the sultry, low dip of a woman’s voice when she was not quite ready to call it a night. Hell, if she was offering, I’d happily toss her around and show her just how worn out we could make each other.

But I wasn’t that man anymore, was I? Life wasn’t as easy as a quick fuck to get it out of your system, and something about Lark told me that she was sticky. The kind of woman who stayed with you long after you left, like a cattle brand.

I didn’t need that kind of complication messing with my head. I had a daughter and a team to focus on. I could handle it on my own. But I also couldn’t halt dark thoughts of Lark pinned under me. I rose and peered down at her.

Fuck it.

“Inside.” I tipped my head toward the front door. An invitation that sounded much more like a demand.

She didn’t wither under my frown but rather drained the last of her beer, stood, and held the bottle out for me, just out of my reach.

The amber glass dangled at the end of her fingertips. When I reached forward to take it, I let my fingertips drag along the backs of her fingers. Long and smooth. I ached for more.

Lark sucked her full bottom lip into her mouth, her teeth pressing into that supple flesh, and her eyes raked over the door. If she stepped through it, it was game over. She was mine.

Her tongue slicked over her bottom lip as she stood. One step forward and she was in my space, her scent of soft cinnamon and citrus moving over me and filling my lungs.

Lark rose on her tiptoes as my face tipped down to hers, ready to capture her lips in mine. My hands gripped her hips.

“Good night.” She let out a soft breath through her nose and smiled. Our breaths mingled. The smallest sliver of space separated our mouths, and if she closed that distance, I’d be all over her in a heartbeat.

Instead, Lark turned and bounced down the porch steps. When she reached the bottom, she twirled before smiling up at me.

Her arms wrapped around the flannel I’d given her as she hugged herself against the cool summer breeze.

A grin spread across her gorgeous face. “I’m keeping the shirt, Oscar.”

I watched her walk away. She turned me down.

I should have been disappointed. Instead, I let my laughter erupt from my gut and watched in fascination as my sunny, alluring neighbor disappeared into the apartment above the rickety old barn.

I rubbed the achy little spot that bloomed in the center of my chest, protesting her absence, before I scooped up the bottles and headed inside.

Goddamn, something in me wanted Lark Butler to be mine.





10





LARK





That night I had a fitful night’s sleep where I imagined how differently things would have gone had I accepted Wyatt’s invitation. The dangerous rumble of his voice when he ground out “Inside” still sent a shiver through me.

Stupid. Stupid, Lark.

I stepped out of Bluebird Books and into the afternoon sunlight. Of all the places I’d traveled, none had been quite as picturesque as Outtatowner. I breathed in the warm, humid air and tipped my face to the sun.

Who would have thought?

After stopping at my car, I slung the small bag with my bikini, a cover-up, and a towel over my shoulder. I ditched my shoes and socks. A lazy afternoon on the beach was calling me.

In the short time I’d been there, more and more tourists had descended on the small town every day. Happy families and groups of teenagers walked along the sidewalk that passed the marina, cafés, and other little shops that led down to the water. I dipped into the small building that served as a restroom and concession stand, the Sand Dollar, to peel off my jean shorts and tank top.

My bikini was cute, with a bright-yellow top that wrapped around my boobs and made them look bigger than they actually were. It dipped low in the back, and the ties crisscrossed into a big loopy bow. The bottoms were my favorite part—a navy background with lemons and leaves gave off the perfect, happy summer vibes. The high sides and ties at my hips, combined with the peekaboo cut in back, was sexy without revealing my whole ass. It also packed well, and I could dig it out of a suitcase and throw it on whenever I pulled up to a beach town.

Over the top, I threw on a knitted cover-up that was more like a giant long-sleeved shirt. The large boho knit allowed a breeze to float through and also didn’t give me weird tan lines. I’d forgotten flip-flops, so when I cut across the full parking lot, I had to run on tiptoe to keep the bottoms of my feet from burning.

It was no surprise that on such a gorgeous day the beach was packed with people, even though it was only midweek. I wove between coolers and large umbrellas and little kids building sand castles and digging moats. When I smiled at a little blond-haired boy, he gave me a sandy, gap-toothed grin, and I felt lighter than I had in days.

My toes dipped into the cool Lake Michigan water, and I exhaled. My stress melted away, and I let the waves lap over my feet. For a moment, it felt like summer and its endless possibilities were just beginning. To the right was a long concrete pier with a lighthouse on the end. On the other side, as far as I could see, the beach stretched on and on. Rocky outcroppings jutted into the water where the land refused to be taken by the vast Great Lake. Behind me, massive sand dunes loomed overhead. Hundreds of feet above the water, it was like nothing I had ever seen. I walked around one of the fallen trees that dotted the shoreline. Its massive roots jutted into the air, water and time having stripped it of bark and leaves and life. The waves from the lake had cut into the earth in places, and with a brush of my hand, sand trickled down and fell to become a part of the beach.