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Sam had come and gone from her side, and her sisters had kept her company and clearly teased her. Probably about Lark, since they had thrown just as many glances and smiles her way as Seren had. And Lark had a hunch about at least some of those glances.

Rhiannon’s earlier comments had hit the mark. But Lark was a grown woman, and Lark wanted… Lark wanted. For the first time in her life, Lark wanted another human being. Deeply. Meaningfully. Fully understanding what that want meant. Desire. Lust.

They had kissed and kissed for days. And Lark knew Seren had been remarkably restrained with her. Those hands, those long fingers, had never wandered. It was Lark who had trouble keeping hers to herself.

She got a little shaky just thinking about getting to touch Seren. Seren’s muscles. Seren’s hands, darn it, those hands… the calluses… Lark had spent so many nights dreaming of those fingers and of those gorgeous, tattooed arms and⁠—

Lark had read all the books on Prudence’s queer literature and lesbian sex shelf. She felt as informed as she could be. She felt like she had overstudied for an exam. Not that she knew what that felt like, but surely it was something like this. When you read and researched so much, you were at once bursting at the seams with theoretical information and lacking any practical references.

Watching porn hadn’t been part of her research. Everything pointed to it not being exactly realistic. And Lark wanted realistic. And not the male gaze. No more male anything ever again. Lark was done. Lark wanted Seren. A woman. Lark wanted… She just wanted, darn it. And that was a miracle in itself.

Lark took a deep breath. She returned to the kitchens and helped Lachlan pack up the last plates, marking the boxes as she went. The resort would appreciate getting the dinnerware back in pristine condition and properly stored. She had done the same with the flatware just minutes ago.

Lachlan gave her a weird look.

“Are you bracing for a fight?”

Lark lifted her eyes to him. Granted, she had to look up more than a foot of height, since the man was a giant, and immediately got a crick in her neck. He smiled gently and sat down, bringing them eye to eye.

“No, what makes you think that?” Lark tilted her head to the side.

“You have this look, songbird. May I call you that? I know Victoria kinda patented the nickname, but I love it. So listen, as I was saying, the look on your face just now. Like you’ll kill or kiss…” He stopped and chuckled. “Maybe I am wrong about the violence. Seren sure does look handsome tonight. Tuxedos are hot.”

“You are incorrigible.” Lark shook her head at him.

“I may very well be, but I’m not someone who has ever rotated a square in Tetris. I see what I see and know what I know. And I know I’m right.”

Lark laughed.

“And what do you know?”

“That someone is a smitten kitten. It’s all over your face. Every time you stopped to take a breath from all the hand-shaking and hand-holding, your eyes found Ms. Captain Daddy.”

“Oh, gosh, do they really call her that?”

“Some do. Jenny Dogwood certainly does. But you know that one—all quiet on the frontal lobe. Don’t worry about her.”

Lark bit her lip, trying to hide her mirth. He had the most wicked way with words. Lachlan let out a bark of laughter and lifted her off her feet, twirling her around in a circle. And Lark did not flinch. Did not seize. A large, tall, strong man had his hands on her, and Lark was laughing and giggling and letting him…

She thought of the Lark from ten years ago, and how that girl wouldn’t have believed that this could ever be real. Her heart felt lighter still.

He set her down and winked before leaving the kitchen in search of Victoria.

Lark took a breath. Then another. She could hear voices in the hallway, and even at this distance, she knew exactly to whom one of them belonged. She could feel her heart hammering faster in her chest, but her hands were remarkably steady.

Seren.

The voices grew louder; someone was joking, though Lark was not keen on deciphering the humor right at the moment. Someone sounded congratulatory. And Lark would take the time to celebrate, just not right now. Right now, she wanted Seren.

And there she was. A red, artfully shaggy head poked into the kitchen, and the deep sea-green eyes unerringly found her. They did not even need to look anywhere else, no sweeping the space, just zeroing in on Lark, and the faint lines beneath them deepened. The smile was true. Honest.

Lark’s heart moved from beating in her chest to throbbing in her throat. She was a total goner for Seren.

“Hey, woman of the hour.” Seren leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing the multitude of crows tattooed over muscled forearms and… Did the kitchen get suddenly steamier? Had she forgotten to turn the burners off? Lark looked around to make sure. Seren caught her gaze and then gave her a long, slow once-over. Gosh, this would be the death of her, surely.

“I… ah… Was it okay? What do you think?” She stumbled through words, determined to say anything just to break the silence.

Seren’s smile spread.