I laughed. “That a compliment?”
“Hell yes.”
We worked a little longer, pretendin’ we hadn’t just had a conversation deep enough to make any other man run for the hills. Wrenches turned. Bolts loosened. Silence settled back in.
Eventually, he pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. “Briar likes her.”
I blinked. “Already?”
“Kid knows good people fast. Always has.”
“And Ma?”
He shot me a look that said I was the dumbest smart man alive. “Your Ma’s already pickin’ out recipes she thinks Lark’ll like.”
Heat crawled up my neck again. “What? Why?”
“Because she wants her to come back, you fool.”
I didn’t have words for that. I just wiped my hands and stared out the barn doors toward the pasture.
Somewhere out there, Lark laughed—light, warm, unguarded.
Daddy clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Son,” he said, his voice low, steady, and sure, “some things… you don’t wanna outrun.”
Then he headed for the house, leaving me standin’ in the barn with my pulse thudding deep and slow.
And for the first time in a long damn while, I feel like I could have the same life my parent’s had, and I left the barn with a smile.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BY THE TIMEdusk settled in,I’d already been on the floor at Hight Voltage for hours, moving from table to table on the leftover rush from earlier, that buzz that came from doing something well and knowing it.
Chain had been quieter since we got back. Not distant. Just more watchful.
I caught it in pieces. A glance when he thought I wasn’t looking. The way his attention found me without effort, like gravity. It wasn’t new exactly, but it was… different. Less territorial bravado, more something unguarded. Want, yes, but threaded through with a softness I knew he didn’t hand out freely.
I held onto that longer than I should have. Let it settle somewhere tender. Let it feel like mine.
When the crowd thinned, I drifted toward the kitchen, planning to steal a glass of water and a moment to breathe. I pushed the door partway open.
And stopped.
My name floated out first, too clear to be mistaken.
“Lark.”
Roxanne.
Her voice was smooth, almost lazy, the kind that never had to raise itself to be heard.
“Please,” Cassie said with a quiet laugh. “Don’t start again.”
“Oh, I’m just sayin’,” Roxanne replied. “You really think she’d be workin’ here if Chain didn’t feel sorry for her? That girl’s a project, not a prize.”
My chest locked up. The air didn’t want to move.
Cassie scoffed. “You’re jealous. That’s all this is.”
