Page 74 of Leather & Lark
“You’re a believer?”
The luster dulls in Lark’s smile when she drops her gaze to the saddle. Her fingers coast across the embossed roses, the faded design lost to time. “My dad was. We all were, I guess. But I’m not anymore.”
I pull my attention away from Lark and finish writing the lyric Abe requested.
“The one who believes in me will live,” Abe says. “John 11:25. We are meant to hold on to our faith in the absence of proof. The Lord rewards our perseverance.”
I’m turning on the stool, about to interject, with what, I don’t know. But as I pivot, I catch sight of Lark staring unwaveringly at Abe.
“I believe that proof can be found in perseverance,” Lark says, her voice firm but not unkind. “Just not the proof you’re hoping for.”
Abe is about to say something further when I rise. “I think I’ve got what I need, thank you, Abe. If you think of anything else you’d like added or changed, please let me know. Now you’ll have to excuse us.” I grab my jacket from where it rests on the back of a nearby chair and shrug it on. I offer a hand to Lark, and I’m surprised when she takes it. “We have an appointment to get to, but I’ll be happy to keep our time tomorrow if you want to chat through other ideas.”
Abe nods once. “No need. I think you have the details.”
I turn off the music, and Abe tips the brim of his hat to us both before he turns away. He whistles Lark’s song as he strides through the shop.
A moment later, the bell rings over the door, and Abe is gone.
ASCEND
Lark
I lead the way out the door of Lachlan’s shop just as a FedEx truck rolls to a halt along the curb. The driver waves at us. Lachlan salutes him, then turns to me.
“He’s really leaving it to the last minute,” Lachlan says as he checks his watch, frowning when he realizes it’s already after eight p.m. He passes me the keys to the Charger. “I’ve got a couple of boxes to put inside. Go ahead and warm it up, yeah? I’ll be there in a minute.”
I head to the car and slip into the driver’s seat. I have to stretch my legs to depress the clutch before I key the engine. It roars to life. The faded lights on the old dash glow a ghostly blue. The new stereo comes on.
But it’s not music that fills the car.
“I’m not done with you yet,” a male voice coos through the speakers.
“What thefuck?”
I look toward Lachlan as the narration plays on, but he’s busy picking up boxes and setting them down just inside the door.
“Do you want me to stop, love?”
“Holy shit.” A sense of glee washes through my veins as I sit up straighter and turn the dial on the volume.
“If you want me to fill your ass, you have to say it.”
I whip out my phone and open my last conversation with Sloane.
I get it now.
Get what?
Your thing about books
Okaaaay. I’m still not catching what you’re laying down though …?
I record the narration on a voice note and send it to her, catching enough of the audio to provide Sloane with a colorful segment of ass foreplay.
Oh. My. God.
I told him to crack a romance book. I didn’t think he’d actually DO IT ahahaha
