“Lark, my love.” He sighed, because he had so many things he wanted to say. He knew he shouldn’t, and he simply gathered her as close as he could get her. Perhaps he could tell her this one thing….
“Nothing about you infringes on anything I want to do,” he whispered. “Okay?” He leaned down and swept his lips along the edge of her ear. “I’m going to need to hear you say it.”
“What do you want me to say?” she whispered.
“Well, since you won’t say good-bye.” He pressed a kiss to the soft spot just below her ear he loved with everything inside him. “I want to hear you say that you know you’re not a burden to me. That this was the best week of your life, and that you know it was the best one of mine. That you’ll be back in thirteen days, and you’ll positively forget your swimming suit, so I can see those Care Bears again, and you’ll bring?—”
He stopped when her laughter covered his words, and he joined his joy to hers. He chuckled while she giggled in his arms, and nothing could be more right in the world than holding Lark like this.
Lark held onto his shoulders and looked up at him. He reached up and swept her hair back off her cheek, pushing it gently over her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
She sobered, her eyes searching his. “This was the best week of my life.”
He leaned down and kissed her. Something simple but profound at the same time. “And?” He dipped his mouth to the hollow of her throat as she pulled in a breath through her nose.
“I don’t even own a swimming suit besides the Care Bears.” Her voice came out as barely more than air.
“Lucky me.” Cash wiped his thumb over her bottom lip and then kissed her again. “And?”
“I’ll be back in thirteen days.”
“Lark.”
“Cashew.”
He lifted his head, though the scent of her skin made his head swim. “You’re not saying what I want.”
“I can’t speak for you,” she said. “So I can’t say it was the best week of your life.”
“I just told you it was,” he said. “And that’s not what I want to hear anyway.”
Lark sighed and stepped out of his arms. “I might not be ready yet, and I won’t have you pushing me.”
Cash’s heartbeat crashed, and then he caught her coy side-eye. He grinned and followed her to the driver’s side door. “One more kiss,” he begged. “And I want a promise that you’ll call me when you get to your apartment in Pocatello. A call, Songbird. Not a text.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Fine, I’ll call you when I get there.” She curled her fingers into his jacket collar and pulled him to within an inch of her face. “I’m working on believing that I didn’t bother your routine this week, and yes, you may have your kiss.”
With that, she touched her lips to his, sending an inferno through Cash’s every cell. He simply couldn’t get enough of her, and he felt certain a foggy cloud lifted off of them and into the cold air as he kissed his lovely Lark good-bye.
A couple of hours later,Cash sighed as the movie he’d put on to comfort himself ended. He clutched a pillow to his chest and watched the credits roll, feeling too emotionally drained to even reach out and touch the screen of his tablet.
He’d skipped his workout this morning, as he usually did on Sundays, and he hadn’t gone to church either. No one had invited him for a Sabbath Day lunch, and he hadn’t even thought about food today. He’d sent a lot of the leftovers home with Lark, and Cash groaned as he finally found the energy to heave himself into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress.
He’d lay down where Lark had last week, the one time she’d come in the master bedroom and taken a nap with him. He swore he could still smell the scent of her shampoo on the pillow, but that was most likely a delusion.
Still, he looked toward the hall, certain he could hear little Sweetie’s claws clicking on the hardwood in the hall. The Yorkie didn’t make an appearance, and Cash wiped both hands down his face, muttering, “You’ve got to pull yourself together.”
And something that had always worked for him in that department was a hot shower. He stripped off his shirt on his way to the bathroom, turning back when his phone rang.
The piercing sound of birdsong brought his feet to a complete stop, as he’d done one thing before collapsing into bed after Lark had left, and that was to program his phone with that ringtone for his now-absent girlfriend.
He practically lunged back onto the bed, scrambling across its width to get to his phone on the opposite nightstand. He managed to get it in his hand at the beginning of the third ring, and he rolled onto his back and swiped on the call by the end of it.
“Hey,” he said breathlessly.
“Cash, hey,” Lark said, and she sounded frazzled.
His thoughts flowed to a flat tire, or something she’d left here that she really needed in the next thirteen days.
