Page 65 of Leather & Lark
“And what if we both get what we want and time is up on our marriage but I still haven’t forgiven you?” I ask. “I guess you’re in the clear then, right?”
Lachlan flinches from the sting of my words.
He lays my bag in the back seat and slides off his sunglasses as he turns to face me. The leather of my gloves creaks as my grip tightens across the strap of my guitar case. I clutch it as though it’s a lifeline in choppy waters. “There’s no end date, duchess. Get in,” Lachlan says. “We’ve got somewhere to be, and before you ask again, I’m not going to tell you. It’s a surprise. So please just get in.”
I grin and draw closer, finally passing him the instrument. “‘Please’? I didn’t realize that word was in your vocabulary.”
“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 saysROCK 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.”
