“I’m full of surprises,” he says as he lays the guitar down and flips the passenger seat back into place. He turns to me and offers his hand. I stare at it, unmoving and suspicious.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you into the vehicle. You know, like a gentleman. Believe it or not, I’m normally quite a well-mannered bloke and not a total heathen. You just caught me on an off day,” he says, which earns him a snort. “Okay, maybe a few off days.”
“Well, this chivalrous streak is weirding me out.”
“Then I guess you’ve got two choices. Get used to the weird, or fight me every step of the process. Either way, I’m not going to stop.”
“You do realize I’m not going to be dickmatized into Lachlan Kane’s accelerated apology plan, right?” I say as I slide my palm onto his. He laughs as he lowers me into the car.
“I’ll put that in my notes,” he says. “‘Do not dickmatize Lark into forgiveness.’”
When he starts driving, he grips the steering wheel too tightly, getting a little distracted when I connect my phone to the stereo. When I ask him about music he stalls the car at a red light. He grumbles a handful of swears and his cheeks flush crimson. When he glances my way, I turn to look out the window, hiding a teasing grin.
It takes us a minute to find our stride. But soon we’re talking about … everything. By the time we reach our destination, we’ve been talking for a half hour nonstop about the band I’ve been rehearsing with, and I feel at ease.
At least I do until we turn down a quiet lane and roll to a stop at the end of a paved walkway.
“What is this?” My head swivels between Lachlan and the log ranch house at the end of the path. Its black and gold sign merely says ROCK ROSE LODGE. My eyes narrow with suspicion, all the comfort I felt in Lachlan’s presence suddenly gone and replaced with an uncomfortable knot that tightens in my chest. “Is this some kind of place where you’re going to leave me in an attempt to cure my—what did you call it—glitter psycho streak?”
“Christ Jesus. No, Lark.” Lachlan reaches down and releases my seat belt, guiding the buckle away from my body and back to its resting place by my shoulder. “Rock Rose Lodge is a sleep retreat.”
My breath hitches in my throat as I attempt to process his words. “A … what?”
“A sleep retreat. They specialize in treating insomnia.” Lachlan pulls a brochure from the interior pocket of his jacket and passes it to me. “Sound therapy sessions. Yoga. Acupuncture. Light therapy. Meal plans. There’s a sleep specialist here, Dr. Sargsyan. She’ll help to make a personalized plan for you to follow.”
“Sleep retreat …?” I whisper, my words an echo, stuck on a delay.
“That’s right. And you’re going to stay for the long weekend and look after yourself. If it doesn’t work, that’s okay. We’ll keep looking for something that does. The time off will be good for you regardless.”
My eyes are narrow slits. “Did you just abduct me for nefarious purposes under the guise of sleep?”
“No.”
“But—”
“You need. Time. Off.” His gaze holds steady to mine as though he hopes to somehow etch those words into my mind. I press my lips together as tears sting my eyes. Lachlan’s hand folds into a fist as though he wants to touch me but stops himself. “Look, I know you could just call an Uber as soon as I drive off. But I want you to try.”
“You’re not staying?”
“No,” he says as he slides a hand across the back of his neck. “I thought it would be better for you if I didn’t.”
“Um … yeah,” I say with a brittle smile. “Makes sense.” Though I drop my gaze to the brochure, I only skim the details, because the truth is, I really want to do this. But I’m needed elsewhere. I fold it and set it on my lap, turning my eyes to the lodge. “It’s just, there’s so much going on right now.”
“And all that shit can wait. You can spare a little time.”
Other than a faint nod, I don’t reply. I just keep my attention fixed to the retreat as I fidget, playing a phantom song with one hand on the back of the other. Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before. “What about you?” I finally ask, still unwilling to look in Lachlan’s direction.
“I’ll be out for the rest of the day. But you can call me tonight if you need me, yeah? I should be back by eleven. I’ve got no plans to speak of for the rest of the weekend.”
His words are met with silence as a thousand thoughts swirl in my head. A blush creeps up my neck as I look out the window and worry my bottom lip. I want to go. But what if something happens to Ethel? What about Bentley? My responsibilities? Band rehearsals? And most unexpected, what if Lachlan is trying to get rid of me for the weekend? Is there a woman he wants to take home? It’s not like we’re a real couple. We never talked about not being with other people. So why does a hole burn in my chest when I wonder if that’s the real reason he’s doing this?
“It’s just a few days, Lark. If something comes up, it won’t take me long to come and get you. Conor is looking through the information we pulled for leads on Foster’s people and I’ve got him monitoring police investigations on the murder cases, so there’s not much we can do until he finishes his work. And I’ll drop in on Ethel. I’ll take Bentley to see her. You can turn your phone off, I have the number for the retreat and they’ll let you know right away if something happens. But everything will be fine, yeah …?”
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. How am I supposed to tell him that I’m afraid of losing something that isn’t mine to begin with? Why should it mean anything to me what he’s doing or who he’s seeing? It’s not a real marriage. It’s not real.
Silence stretches on in the car. And then I feel his touch. A simple graze of his fingers to the bones on the back of my hand.
My head whips around and I pin Lachlan with a lethal glare.
He pulls his hand away as though he’s afraid he overstepped, but that just makes it even worse. Frustrated tears fill my eyes.
“Lark—”
“Why is this so hard?” I blurt out.
Lachlan shakes his head, confusion etched between his brows. “Why is what so hard?”
The first tear breaches my lash line and slides down my cheek toward my trembling lips. Lachlan’s face creases with worry as I lose the battle to hold my emotions back. “You,” I say with a flick of my hand between us as more tears escape my control. “This. It’s so fucking hard. I don’t want to care what you’re doing or where you’re going. It shouldn’t matter to me at all. But it does fucking matter and I don’t know why—”
Lachlan grasps my chin and stares right into me until I press my eyes closed. “Lark,” he whispers. I try to bury the turmoil I feel, but it’s unstoppable, a molten core that churns in the dark. I can feel it in the heat that radiates from my skin, in the hammer of my pulse beneath the finger that Lachlan lets rest against my neck. “Lark, look at me.”
I open my eyes but can’t hold Lachlan’s gaze, not with the heartache and contrition that stare back at me.
“I know this isn’t the type of marriage either of us envisioned for ourselves. I know it’s not … ideal,” he says as he lays his other hand over mine where it rest on my lap, my attention snagging on the simple touch. “But if you’re worried about me stepping out on you and breaking our vows, that’s not me. Doesn’t matter that it’s not a normal marriage. If I make a promise, I keep that promise.”
Lachlan’s thumb slides in a slow arc through the line of tears on my cheek as I take one steady breath in, letting it back out again in a thin stream through pursed lips. It takes more effort than I expect to bury my fears and insecurities and hopes back where they belong. In the shadows. I slip into familiar armor and raise my chin, and when I meet Lachlan’s gaze, he tamps down a half-hearted smile. “I … I don’t really care what you do in your spare time, you know,” I say.
A grin tugs at his lips as his hand falls away from my face, the softness of his touch imprinted in my flesh. “Definitely not, no.”
“And I don’t forgive you.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“If you think you’re going to … sleepmatize me … into forgiving you—”
“I think it’s maybe just hypnotize—”
“—it won’t work. You can’t bribe me with pillows or some shit.”
“I’m not trying to bribe you.” Any hint of levity spirits away from Lachlan’s expression. He leans a little closer and holds my gaze. This time, I don’t look away. “I see how much you’re doing. I know what it’s like to be so busy looking after everyone else that you forget how to look after yourself. You’re going to burn yourself out that way. And I won’t just sit back and watch it happen, Lark. Not if this place is right here, ready to help.”
When he nods in the direction of the ranch, I follow his line of sight, swiping beneath my lashes with the hem of my sleeve. “Okay,” I reply after a long moment. I say it once more and punctuate my declaration with a decisive nod before I finally turn my eyes back to Lachlan. “Thank you.”
He offers a faint smile before he exits the vehicle, grabbing my belongings from the back seat and then a roller bag he packed for me from the trunk. I grumble at him about going through my panties, then about my retainer, and then about panties again, but I can’t help but point out things I like too, from the sprawling log and stone building to Bantam Lake that stretches behind it and the walking paths that snake into the woods.
The staff at the reception desk check me in and describe the amenities and the plan for the next few days, and I feel Lachlan’s focus on me the whole time, his attention unwavering and protective in the periphery. When an attendant takes my luggage and starts to lead the way toward my room, I pause in the center of the lobby and turn to face him. I know I look like shit. My eyes are puffy, my lashes damp with cooling tears, my skin blotchy. But Lachlan looks at me as though I’m beautiful. Like he can’t bear to look away.
“Thank you, Lachlan,” I whisper.
He nods. I should pivot on my heel and walk away and put some space between us.
But I don’t. Not even when Lachlan steps closer.
I stand unmoving in the center of the lobby’s stone floor as though I’ve been carved from it, my expression unsure as Lachlan draws to a halt in front of me. He runs a hand over my hair and gently pulls my head to his chest. “Get some rest,” he whispers in my ear. “See you soon.”
His lips press to my temple in a kiss that lingers just long enough for me to take a deep breath of his scent of leather and amber and mint, and then he lets go. With a final, melancholy smile, he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and walks away. When he glances over his shoulder, I’m right where he left me, my cheeks flushed and the barest hint of a smile on my lips.
Before it can fade, Lachlan turns away and strides out the doors.
SIGNALS
Lachlan
I slide into the car and grip the steering wheel. One deep breath is all the time I allow myself to take before I key the engine and drive away from Rock Rose Lodge.
I plow through the next several hours, and even though I’m kept occupied, my thoughts always return to Lark. My pulse pounds faster with every second that ticks closer to eleven. Part of me hopes she won’t call. That she’ll be sound asleep. But a more selfish part of me needs to hear her voice.
It’s two minutes after eleven when my phone rings.
“Hey, duchess.”
“Hey.” I can tell from that one word that she’s wide awake. “I couldn’t sleep. Still a bit wound up, I guess … Am I disturbing you?”
“No. Not at all.”
There’s a pause. “How was your evening?”
“It was busy,” I reply, trying not to let excitement color my words. I know the mystery of my whereabouts this evening bothers her. “Saw some people. Did some shit.”
“Cool …”
She wants to ask. But she won’t. And I let the moment linger for a long beat before I finally say, “Want to see what I was up to?”
There’s a rustling sound in the background. I imagine Lark shifting off her bed, darting to the window of her room. “What do you mean? You’re here?”
“Maybe,” I say, and she fails to muffle an excited squeak that sets my blood on fire. “Do you want to come with me? I might have another little surprise for you, but it can wait a few days—”
“No, I’m coming now.”
My smile grows wider as I hear her gather her belongings. “Leave the giant bag there, duchess. And put on a sweater. Come out the back door of the lodge and try not to let anyone see you. Keep me on the line until you get to the car, I’m parked out front.”
“Okay,” she says, a little breathless.
In just a few moments, Lark is jogging down the path from the lodge and I key the engine as soon as she pulls the door open. In a whirl of motion, she’s seated next to me, her familiar scent and her bright energy a balm to the unexpected anxiety I’ve felt in her absence.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Can’t say.” I glance over just in time to catch her teasing pout. Those feckin’ lips. My cock aches with the sudden image of my erection gliding through the hot embrace of her mouth. I shift on my seat and refocus on the road ahead as we pull away. “Let’s just say the sleep retreat is in a prime location. And it makes for a solid alibi.”
I glance at Lark and meet her wary gaze. But she can’t hide the excitement that glimmers in her eyes.