Page 21

Lara

The yacht rocks gently as I lean against the railing, salt spray misting my skin.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Lark's voice pulls me from my thoughts. He’d accepted our proposal, and now, things seem so much more complicated even though I’d been sure they wouldn’t be.

“Stunning.” My voice is soft. The warm metal railing under my elbows digs into my skin and the wind whips stray strands of my hair about my face as I stare out over the open ocean.

He stands beside me, close enough that our shoulders brush. His gaze, fixed on the horizon, is filled with a contentedness I wish I shared. As I blink up at him, I notice how the sunlight plays across his features, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips.

Lips I wish I could feel against mine.

“This never gets old,” he says, but his eyes tell me he's somewhere far away, in a thought or a memory.

“Hey.” I nudge him gently, watching him snap back to the moment, to me. “You with me?”

“Of course.” A smile tugs the corners of his lips, but I can see something is bothering him. The intensity of his stare sends a thrill through my veins and has my heart picking up speed.

The yacht pitches slightly, a gentle reminder of the force of the ocean beneath us. Lark steadies himself with a hand on the rail, his other finding my waist. Strong. Assuring. He’s there for me in ways I never knew I needed, but now worry I can’t live without.

I lean into the bar to keep my balance.

“Careful now,” he teases, a slight smile crossing his lips.

I laugh. “I should be saying that to you, Mr. Distracted.”

“Guilty.” He doesn't look away this time, and something in that steady gaze makes my heart race faster than the plane overhead cutting across the sky.

“Ever think about buying one of these yourself?” he asks, nodding to the helm visible through the open cabin door.

“I’ve thought about it,” I say with a shrug. “But I’d prefer to let others take the wheel.”

“Trust issues?” he teases, but he has no idea how close he’s come to the heart of things.

“Maybe with boats,” I say as his arm squeezes my waist, sending warmth spiraling through me. “Not with people. Not with you.”

“Good answer.”

I lean into him, the motion as natural as the waves stretching out before us. We’re out here celebrating, thrilled that he’s a partner now. But Shana couldn’t make it – she had previous plans. A date with a guy I haven’t met yet. I feel like a bad friend sometimes, but she’s been pretty secretive about him, and I don’t want to push.

“Look at that,” Lark says, gesturing to a flock of birds diving into the ocean in search of food.

“Can't,” I say, though I don't tear my gaze from his face. “Too distracted.”

“By what?” he asks, glancing down at me with a look that betrays his curiosity.

“By you.”

“Ah.” A genuine smile – a bigger one this time – curves up the corners of his lips and his eyes crinkle handsomely at the corners. “The feeling's mutual.”

Hearing those words makes my heart flip flop in my chest and my gut does a happy dance. I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with the man beside me.

“You know,” I say. “This is all a surprise, you know? Being here with you, feeling this way.”

Lark’s hand tightens on my waist, and he turns to face me fully, his eyes searching mine. “Feeling what way?”

I swallow hard, unsure how to respond that’s both honest and not giving away too much.

“Like… like anything is possible,” I say, my cheeks flushing. “Like we can do anything.” I leave out the part of me that includes him for that to be a possibility. With him by my side, we can do anything, I’m sure of it. That’s part of the reason I wanted him to be a partner.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “You can, Lara. We can.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my heart swell. I reach up, cupping his face in my hands, and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but quickly deepens as all the emotions I’ve been holding back come rushing to the surface.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless. Lark rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs.

I want to tell him that I’ve wanted him for a long time, too, but words just won’t come. As my fingers trace the line of his jaw, I meet his green eyes and I’d swear my heart is about to beat right out of my chest.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Lark,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” he asks, his gaze searching mine, looking for answers.

“I don’t want to lose what we have. This partnership, our friendship… it means everything to me.” I have no doubt he’ll be a great partner, and that the friendship we share is genuine. But if we keep going… what happens if down the road we realize we’re not right for one another? It’s a question that kept me awake last night, and it’s one that’s been relentless since yesterday.

He opens his eyes, the intensity in his gaze making my knees weak. “Lara, you won’t lose me. If anything, this will make us stronger.”

I nod, wanting to believe him. “I hope so. I really do.” But what if he’s wrong? Am I strong enough to let him go if the time comes?

He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Trust me,” he says softly. “We’ll figure this out together. Whatever it takes.”

Those words again.

They bring back a flood of memories, of managing being pregnant, morning sickness alongside building an empire. My brother’s endless help, Shana always being there for me.

I lean into his touch, closing my eyes for a moment. The sound of the waves lapping at the boat and the warmth of his hand on my skin create a sense of calm that I desperately need. “Okay,” I whisper. “Together.”

He smiles, and all is right in the world. “Together,” he says, the conviction in his voice almost making me believe. Almost.

We stand there for a while longer, just holding each other, letting the moment sink in.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

I can’t help but smile. He’s always so concerned that I’m not eating enough or drinking enough water. I think about the beautiful vase of jasmine flowers on my desk at work. I think about long nights working and days alike that he brings me food and makes sure I’m okay.

“A little,” I say.

“Then let’s go,” he says, taking my hand and leading me down to the kitchen. This time, we’re not alone on the boat; he’s brought along a captain, a chef, a waiter, and a woman whose purpose I don’t know.

We sit in the dining area and I watch as the chef, a blur in whites, flips something in a pan, and my mouth waters at the smell of cooking food. Lark's yacht, his domain, feels like another world—one where every wish is granted before it even forms on your lips.

“That smells incredible,” I say, my voice hardly carrying over the gentle hum of the yacht and the sea.

“Wait until you taste it.” Lark's voice is smooth, but there’s a rough edge to it that makes me want to drag him back to the cabin to make him finish what he’s started.

Instead, I smile, taking in the scene—the endless blue waves, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the sun, the comfort of knowing he’s right here and all is right in our world.

“You’re always so extravagant,” I tease, leaning forward and putting my arms on the table, folding them before me.

“Life's too short for mediocrity,” he says, and again, I’m thrilled at his ability to enjoy the finer things in life. The man should teach a masterclass in making money and enjoying it, too.

He's right, though; he has a taste for the finer things, and he's generous. A generosity that I’ve experienced with the things we’ve done and the memories we’ve made.

“True.” I glance back at the chef, who nods in our direction, a silent signal that dinner will soon be ready. “You spoil me.”

“You deserve it,” he says, his gaze holding mine, intense and unwavering. “You carried and protected my baby. You deserve the world because that’s what you’ve given me.”

His words unexpectedly tug something deep inside me that only makes those sleepless nights and endless struggles even more worth it.

The chef plates our meal with an artist's touch, and soon, the table is graced with dishes that look like they've been pulled from the pages of a gourmet magazine.

I take a moment to admire the beautifully plated dishes, each one a work of art. The aroma wafts up, making my mouth water. “This looks incredible,” I say, glancing at Lark. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

The chef clears his throat, then speaks. “Tuna, a mango salsa.” He gestures to the beautifully seared tuna steak, perfectly pink in the center, and the vibrant mango salsa. “Lobster ravioli, drizzled with a rich saffron cream sauce.”

I’m excited and thrilled as he continues explaining. “For sides, a fresh arugula salad with shaved Parmesan and toasted pine nuts, and a bowl of roasted baby potatoes. Further, enjoy the artisanal breads and olive oil for dipping.”

“Thanks, chef,” Lark says, and I echo the words, stunned by the spread before us.

With a nod that’s more like a bow, the chef walks away.

As we dig in, the flavors are even more incredible than they look. Each bite leaves me weak and ready for more. “This is amazing,” I say, savoring a forkful of the lobster ravioli.

Lark smiles, clearly pleased. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted today to be special.”

“It is,” I say, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for everything.”

He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “You deserve it all, and more.”

And with those words, I realize just how lucky I am to have Lark in my life.

After dinner, we move to the deck, and sit down in the same lounge chair we’d enjoyed the last time we were here. My cheeks sting as I remember exactly what we did.

Lark wraps a blanket around us as we settle in, the cool evening breeze brushing against our skin. We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching the stars appear one by one in the darkening sky.

“Do you ever think about the future?” I ask, my head resting on his shoulder.

“All the time,” he replies, his voice thoughtful. “Especially now, with you.”

I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. But I also caution myself not to read too much into his comment. I’m the mother of his child; our lives will be intertwined forever now, and that might be what he’s talking about. “What do you see?”

He turns to look at me, his eyes filled with a heat that takes my breath away. “I see us, together. Building a life, making more memories. Maybe even starting a family.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. “A family?” Well, there’s no misunderstanding that. Clearly he’s put thought into more than just me being the mother of his child and all that entails. But the excitement building within me is almost too much to bear.

“Yes,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “I want it all with you, Lara.”

Tears prickle in my eyes, and I blink them away, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I want that, too,” I whisper, my throat mostly blocked by emotion.

He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me in a protective hug. “Then that’s what we’ll have,” he says against my hair. “A future filled with love and happiness.”

As I snuggle into his warmth, I find myself loving the idea and also afraid, because again, what if things don’t work out? What if, along the way, we discover we’re not a good match? How would the fallout of that affect our lives?

As I worry, my mind wanders to our little boy. Is he giggling now, caught up in some game with grandma? A pang of longing, sweet and soft, tugs at my heart. I miss our times together, and make a mental note to make sure we have more of them. Just because his life is fuller now doesn’t mean I have to be lees of a part of it.

“You’re thinking about Winston,” Lark says, reading my mind as we sit together, warm and cozy under a blanket as the night continues to darken the skies.

I nod. “Grandma's probably letting him stay up past bedtime,” I say, not a hint of upset in my voice or heart.

“They’re building memories,” Lark says, and I know he’s right. It won’t hurt Win to have his schedule thrown off once in a while. And at grandma’s, the rules are a little different. I don’t mind that one bit, and he’s always so happy to come home and go there.

“She’s so good to him.” I love how effortlessly they’ve become family. She welcomed her grandson in without question and holds back none of her heart when he’s around.

I can’t help but believe this is where I’m meant to be. And while there’s that lingering doubt in the back of my mind, I plan to keep it back there.

“You know, my mother believes fate brought us together,” Lark says.

I lift both shoulders, watching the stars twinkle and shine. “I never believed in fate,” I say softly, mostly to myself.

“Neither did I,” he says, squeezing my hand. “But here we are, so maybe she’s on to something.”

I can’t help but laugh softly. “Here we are,” I say, thinking about what a wild ride it’s been. Who would have thought that the fling I met on vacation and never planned to see again would be the same man who came to work for me years later and fell for me? Because I’m pretty sure he’s in love with me, and that thought makes my heart do a happy dance.

I do worry that I’m being selfish, enjoying these moments of freedom. But Lark was right; his mother is fantastic with him, and I don’t want to steal their moments – those are precious. It’s okay for me to enjoy life outside being a mom or a career-driven woman. Besides, it’s easy to tell that Win loves his grandmother and they already share an amazing bond.

“Hey,” Lark says, his hand leaving mine to point toward the heavens. “Look.” He gestures toward the first stars daring to shine.

“The first star of the night. Make a wish,” he says in a low voice that has my heart fluttering and heat gathering low in my core. His hand comes down to rest on my thigh and I place my hand on his forearm, loving the sinewy shift of the muscles under his skin.

What could I possibly wish for?

My life is right where I want it to be. I have an amazing son. A man who loves me. A family I care deeply for. I have everything I could need or want, and things are only getting better by the day. As the contentment I feel rises, I glance at Lark, wondering how I got so lucky.

He sees me looking at him and gestures toward the stars as if telling me the view is up there. But I don’t agree. In this moment between light and darkness, he’s more handsome than he’s ever been, and the thought of losing him, of him ever walking away leaves me aching inside.

So maybe that’s my wish – something to do with never losing him.

This man I’d run away from all those years ago out of fear he’d only complicate my life more… he’s become the man I want to run to when there’s a problem – even the ones I can solve myself.

“Have you made your wish?” he asks, doing a double take as his gaze snags on me like he can’t look away.

“I’m still deciding,” I whisper. But the truth is, what more could I ask for?

Lark’s eyes search mine, a soft smile on his lips. “Take your time,” he says, his voice gentle. “Wishes are important.”

I nod, my heart swelling with emotion. “I think I have everything I could ever wish for right here,” I say, hoping I’m not saying too much too soon. But I’m comfortable with him, and I’m going to trust that comfort.

He leans in, his forehead resting against mine. “You know, I feel the same way,” he says in a low voice, his breath warm on my chin and neck and stirring the few escaped hairs there. “But if I had to make a wish, it would be for this moment to last forever.”

I close my eyes, wondering how the heck he knows just what to say to make the moment even better somehow. It’s like a gift, or we both feel the same way. “Forever sounds perfect.”

And it does. Maybe I’m fooling myself, maybe this won’t last, but I want to try. And at least then I’ll know I gave it my all and won’t have to worry about every what if that comes along later.