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And when Gaia showed us who we were vowing to protect, I nearly fell over. Lark takes my breath away.
Maybe it’s not manly to talk like this. To admit that I’m hers– hook, line, and sinker–but I am. I know I really must be wrecked for this girl. I can hardly remember how to talk. She has me all flustered like a fucking schoolboy.
Then Arrow, the most cautious guy I know, steps forward and introduces himself without missing a beat.
“And who are you?” Lark asks, moving past the other men and standing before me. She is so small, so slight, and her name suits her perfectly. She’s like a bird, able to fit in my arms perfectly. She smiles up at me, my broad shoulders seeming to take up too much space. While I’m the most built of all us guys, right now I wish I were five inches shorter; the last thing I want to do is intimidate her with my size.
I clench my jaw, wishing I could quote Shakespeare also. Or say something eloquent, something smooth. Something funny or memorable. Instead, I’m just me. A man, standing before a woman, knowing I’d lay my life down for her, yet unable to explain what she already means to me.
I’d frighten her away.
“You okay?” she asks, tilting her chin to the side, taking me in.
Knowing I need to say something, I finally manage to tell her my name. “I’m Vaughn.” I pop my knuckles nervously. People always think that just because I’m the big guy, I’m dense or some- thing. But it’s not that. It’s just that my words sound better in my head and when I say them out loud, they get all jumbled.
And with Lark, I don’t want to mess anything up.
She smiles up at me, having no idea that we were sent to keep her safe.
She has no idea how special she is.
“So, who is gonna show off first?” she asks, looking around at us. “I’m dying to see what you guys did to make everyone at the casino swoon so fast.”
I exhale, relief flooding my body. If she wants fancy speeches or witty banter, I can’t deliver. But if she wants to see what I can do with my body, I won’t let her down.
“Come on, Lark,” I say, taking her hand. “Show me the stage.”
3
Lark
The crew is not what I expected. First of all, they are all men.
Five hot, athletic men.
Do I really get to work closely with these guys for the next however many months? My body rolls with excitement at the thought. Not sure what that says about me, but I honestly never thought I would take one look at the cast and forget how to think. They are unreal. And when I lead them to the massive stage that the Spades Royale built specifically for this show, I’m practically giddy with anticipation, but then I wonder if they can really
be everything Mark promises.
I need to see it with my own eyes.
When they throw off their jackets, pull off tee shirts and slip off shoes, the pressure that begins to mount is almost too much for me to take. I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to see what other performers could do. Then I take a good look at their bodies–ripped and chiseled, carved from something ancient; something fierce.
There isn’t a soft edge in sight. Closest to me is Vaughn with his dominating size, and bright blue eyes, and when he reaches for a trapeze bar to test the suspension I can’t help but notice his impressive biceps.
My phone buzzes in the pocket of my dress. Mom. She’s texted a dozen times asking where was and telling me to come home. To say I feel stifled is an understatement and it makes me want to be here, with these men, all the more.
North walks around the stage, inspecting it, a swagger still in his step, and with his ladder of abs, I understand why. When he catches me staring, I blush, but those steel grey eyes of his reach deep inside me and I choose not to look away.
In fact, I want to be seen.
Brecken has long hair, dark eyes, and a lean body that makes mine melt. When he pulls off his joggers, leaving him in nothing but a pair of tight shorts, I gulp. Literally. Looking at his ass is worth breaking every rule my mama ever made.
Sawyer moves toward me, his eyebrows raised, his lips turned up in a smile. He rests an arm on my shoulder so casually, it takes a second for me to realize it’s there. A lock of brown hair falls into his eye and I have to resist running my hand through his hair and pushing it away. “You excited to see the act, sparrow?” he asks.
