One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(34)

“Guys.” I dropped my keys by the table at the entrance. “What’s up?”

“We’re headed out. There’s a thing down by the beach.”

The boys filed out of the house, and I watched them bound down the porch stairs.

“See ya later, Lark!” Joey called out before he let the screen door slam behind him.

I looked at Lark and popped a thumb over my shoulder. “The beach?”

Lark stood in the kitchen by the stove, stirring something that made my stomach growl. She shrugged. “While we were at the library, I saw on the bulletin board that there’s a hangout at the beach where people pick trash and then have free pizza in the pavilion afterward. The librarian there said it’s a lot of kids the boys’ age. Michael needs service hours and they were getting stir-crazy so . . .” She shrugged. “Win-win.”

Well I’ll be damned.

“Hey, Dad!” Penny skipped down the hallway from her room.

I ran a hand down the twin braids at the back of her head. “You’re looking cute.”

She beamed up at me. “Lark can do dutch braids!” Penny spun in a circle. “They’re not even all wonky.” She left off the like yours always are, and I smiled in appreciation. “Can I watch a show?”

“Sure thing, Pickle.” I turned toward Lark, whose attention was back on the stove. “Busy day?”

Lark smiled, but I saw the fatigue in her eyes. “A good day. When you texted that you’d be a little late, I threw this together.” She smiled. “It’s edible.”

We stood silently assessing each other as the bouncy music from Penny’s show chirped in the background.

Subtle tension grew thick around us. I felt a pull toward Lark, like it would be the most natural thing in the world to draw her in close and hold her against my chest.

Eventually Lark cleared her throat. “Okay, well, I’m going to go. Same time tomorrow?”

I frowned. Part of me hoped she’d sit and eat whatever delicious-smelling dinner she’d made for us. It looked like spaghetti, and my stomach turned on itself again as I realized I hadn’t eaten much all day.

It felt easy. Comfortable. Coming home after a long day to Penny’s smiling face, a warm meal, and Lark in my home? It felt too easy.

Instead of doing what I wanted to—asking her to stay and have dinner with us, I only nodded. “Same time works.”

A pinch twisted under my ribs when her eyes lowered and she moved toward the door.

I fucked that up.

“’Night, Pen!” she called into the living room, and Penny leaped from the couch to wrap Lark in a hug. “See you tomorrow.” When Penny released her, Lark’s eyes met mine. “Good night.”

Every part of me wanted to step forward and offer to walk her up to her apartment so I might steal another kiss. My eyes shifted down to her lips. She didn’t move. A lump formed in my throat, but the music from Penny’s show pulled me out of the moment, reminding me of my ever-accumulating responsibilities.

“’Night. Thanks again for today.”

Lark only smiled and gently closed the screen door behind her.





15





LARK





“I’m not going to lie. Organic chemistry is not my strong suit.” I flipped the thick textbook over in my hands and aimlessly thumbed through the pages. It seemed like . . . a lot.

Kevin held out his hand, and I dropped the heavy textbook into his palm. He looked down at it. “It’s not that. I actually think this stuff is really interesting. The content isn’t really hard.”

He looked defeated. Embarrassed. I was sure it wasn’t easy admitting he had to retake the course and that it was putting his football season at risk. We needed a different approach.

“Okay, so what is it then? If the coursework isn’t hard, what’s the issue?”

Kevin considered my question. “It’s the projects, I think. The reading and the written work I have to do . . . it’s always due at the same time, and I never feel like I have enough time to do it all. Before I know it, it’s late and I get zeros or half credit.”

I hummed in acknowledgment. “I see. So then what’s the point if you’ve dug a hole so deep you can’t even get out of it.”

His eyes met mine. “Exactly. Last semester I could have aced every test and still ended up with a D.”

I glanced at the open computer screen and then down at the pile of books beside him. Then it hit me.

“Chunking,” I said with a satisfied smile.

“What?”

“Chunking. I think that’s what you need.” I spun his open computer toward me. “It’s something I learned when prepping for an audition and you have zero time to learn a whole script or monologue or whatever. Okay, here. Look.” I pointed at the long, overwhelming list of tasks Kevin needed to get done. “This is everything for the whole summer session, right?”

He nodded, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Well, it’s not all due tomorrow or even this week. We need to prioritize. If I can help you figure out which things to do when, do you think you can handle the rest?”

He eyeballed the syllabus again. All I got was a shrug.

I bumped his shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Give it a try. If that doesn’t work, we’ll figure something else out!”