Page 129 of Freeing Lark

Her eyes filled. She laughed softly. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“Because I was going to be incredibly embarrassed if you didn’t.”

His mouth curved. “I should tell you more often.”

“You’re not exactly known for your communication skills.”

“Occupational hazard.” She laughed. He pulled her closer. Then his expression turned serious. “Move in with me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Move in with me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Was that a question?”

“No.”

She poked him in the chest. “You’re awfully bossy.”

“I’ve been told.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to agree?”

His arms tightened around her. “Because you love me.”

She smiled. “Arrogant, too.”

“Also been told.”

She kissed him. “Fine.”

His eyebrows rose. “Fine?”

“I’ll move in.” The smile that broke across his face made her heart ache. “But,” she added, “I’m bringing my art supplies.”

“Obviously.”

“And my books.”

“Obviously.”

“And I’m taking over at least one room.”

He kissed her forehead. “Take two. Or better yet, take the whole house.”

She smiled against his chest. “Bossy.”

“Yours.”

Her heart squeezed. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Mine.”

And for the first time in her life, the word didn’t feel like ownership or control. It felt like home.

“Must have coffee,” Cormac said with the urgency of a man experiencing a medical emergency.

Lark blinked at him. “Good morning to you too.”