Page 58 of Leather & Lark
I toss the plastic card down on the table. The final bomb.
A sheen coats my mother’s eyes, but she blinks it back before straightening her spine like she does when she’s pissed and preparing for battle. “Well. That’s just—”
“That’s just lovely, dear,” Ethel says, and gives me a demure smile that fades into melancholia. My chest aches when she studies me. “You’ve always been a feather in the wind, my Meadowlark. You deserve to be happy on your own terms. But I never wanted you to be alone. And now, you’re not.” She raises her forkful of cake to me in a toast before sliding it into her mouth. The last word, punctuated with a dark chocolate stamp.
I bury my short nails into my palms. The weight of Lachlan’s gaze lies heavy on my face, but I can’t look up. I don’t know what will happen if I do.
My stepfather takes a sip of his coffee and clears his throat, and though he forces a smile, all I see is the torn heart beneath it. “Lachlan must mean so much to you.”
His words summon a mist across my vision and an ache in my throat. I glance at Lachlan. He studies me before his attention flicks to my stepfather and back again. It’s as though he knows there’s so much more that’s been left unspoken, but he can’t see his way through the fog.
“Of course he does, Daddy,” I whisper, my voice unsteady. “I wouldn’t have married him otherwise. He is a good man. And you’ll see it too, in time.”
“I am …” My mom glances toward my stepdad, who gives her a warning look. She starts again, “weare happy that you’ve found someone, Lark. This is just not what any of us expected.”
“You can always have another celebration here or at the beach estate, we would of course love to host it,” my stepfather says. He gives me a weak smile. “We would love that very much.”
I nod a little too enthusiastically. “Thank you. We’ll think about that when things settle down a little bit.” I can’t look at them, so I look everywhere else. My watch. The half-eaten dessert. My empty coffee cup. Finally, I catch Lachlan’s eyes and take a breath. “We have to get going, I’m sorry. We need to take Auntie Ethel back and then I’ve got rehearsal.” I don’t take my eyes from Lachlan as I shift in my chair. He’s faster than me, fluid and graceful as he comes to my side of the table and pulls back my chair. “Thank you for brunch. I’m sorry it went a little sideways, but just know that I love you.”
I give my mother and sister swift kisses to their cheeks before my stepfather leads us to the door. His embrace is long and tight.His familiar smell is both a comfort and a burning ache in my chest. My eyes sting when he kisses the crown of my head. “You look tired, Meadowlark,” he whispers. “Try to get some rest.”
I squeeze a little tighter before I let him go and step back. Lachlan is there with a hand extended, and after a brief hesitation, my stepfather takes it.
“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, Mr. Covaci,” Lachlan says. He lets the handshake go so he can interlace his fingers with mine. “And I know there’s more going on than what we discussed today. But my word is worth my life. I made a vow to Lark. I will protect my wife.”
An electric charge hits my heart.This isn’t real, I remind myself. But the way Lachlan looks at me,reallylooks at me, I believe him. I might be his wife on paper only, but I know what he’s trying to tell me in a simple glance. He will keep his word.
“I’m counting on it,” my stepfather says. And with a final, melancholy smile shared between us, we leave.
We walk in silence to the car, Lachlan escorting my aunt, who seems to move slower now after so much excitement. But he doesn’t release my hand either. He keeps hold of it even when we can’t be seen from the house. He doesn’t let go until I get into the rear seat, and even then I sense a momentary reluctance. A reluctance that, for some reason, I share.
It’s just camaraderie, I try to remind myself when the moment passes and he pushes the seat back before helping Ethel settle into the passenger side. And then we’re off, my heart still beating too fast in my chest.
“I don’t know the first thing about being chief of security,Ethel,” I say when the house is out of view, as though they might be able to hear us.
“I know you don’t. That’s why you outsource.”
“We didn’t secure anything about the Covaci contract. Dad’s not going to sign shit. I have no influence there.” My sigh is unsteady. I press my fingers to my eyes, and when I open them once more, I catch Lachlan’s uneasy gaze in the rearview. “I’m sorry. I promised you both contracts, and I’ll get it done.”
Lachlan turns enough to give me a brief glance. “I know, Lark. It’s all right.”
“We’ll find a work-around,” my aunt says.
“Do you think we convinced them?” I ask as my aunt turns to cast her smoky stare at me. “Do you think they believe we’re in love?”
“You didn’t need to convince them. You needed to give them enough doubt to stop them from acting. I’m sure they’ll send someone to keep tabs on you both over the next while, so if you want to go necking in public it wouldn’t be the worst idea—”
“Auntie,” I hiss, but she merely laughs at the embarrassment in my tone. Lachlan chuckles and I catch his eyes in the mirror. I know he can probably see my deep blush, the heat of it burning in my cheeks. “‘Necking’? Seriously?”
“What?I’m old.” When I let loose a heavy sigh, the levity slowly evaporates in the car and Ethel reaches toward me to take my hand. “Don’t worry, my girl. Sure, they will likely have lingering doubts. We presented them with a difficult situation to accept. But as for giving your parents enough reason to rethink any plans they might have been brewing to go up against Mr. Kane?” Ethellets go of my hand to give Lachlan’s leather-clad sleeve an affectionate pat. “I’m quite sure you did that. The license was very clever, Lark.”
I blow out a long breath and look out the window as the familiar neighborhood slips past. I gnaw at my lower lip until I taste an iron thread of blood. “Maybe.”
“You did a good job, Meadowlark. I know it hurts now, but his heart will mend. Damian loves you dearly, always.”
“What was that about? With the license?” Lachlan asks, but I don’t reply. I don’t take my eyes from the suburban streets. Places I’ve felt lost in. Places where I’ve been found. The paths and passageways that my stepdad walked me down. The ones where he taught me how to ride a bike. The ones where he taught me how to drive. He spent the time to make this homemyhome. He did all the things my dad would have taught me how to do, had he lived.
“Lark never took the Covaci name,” Ethel says, her voice low and quiet. “She always said she would never leave that piece of her dad, Sam, behind. But she did it. For you.”
