Betting on You (10 page)

“And who knows what he’s been up to for four years,” Aria said. “He could have joined a cult. He could have been arrested. He could have asked another girl to marry him and run away from
her
, since then. You have no idea.”

“He hasn’t done any of those things,” Lark said. “And we talked about other people we’ve dated yesterday. There’s been nothing serious for either one of us.”

“So he says.” Aria set her cocoa down on the table with a
thunk
and propped her hands on her hips. “You can’t know that’s the truth.”

Lark lifted one shoulder. “I guess I can’t, Aria, but I trust him. He freaked out and left me, but he’s not a liar. He never was.”

Aria sniffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Lark froze, her gaze drifting between Melody, Aria, and the table, the laptops and papers suddenly making sense. “You’re looking for dirt on Mason?”

“We’re just checking into some things,” Melody said in a placating voice, obviously reading the outrage in Lark’s expression. “It’s no big deal. We just want to make sure he’s not going to hurt you again.”

Lark took a deep breath, doing her best to rein in her anger. “Listen, I know you both mean well, but this isn’t right. This is between Mason and me. I’m the one who has to decide whether or not to trust him again, and what it will take for that to happen.”

“All it takes is a few dates, apparently,” Aria said. “You’re starry eyed over him after
three days
, Lark. At this rate, by the end of the week you’ll be pregnant.”

“That’s not fair.” Lark scowled, barely resisting the urge to say something mean in response. But you didn’t kick someone when they were down, and for all her bluster, Aria was down. Down on men, down on life, and down on hope, which was exactly why she was trying so hard to kill Lark’s.

“I’m not trying to be mean,” Aria said in a softer tone. “I just don’t think you’re thinking clearly.”

“I am thinking clearly, and I’ve done what I needed to do to make me feel good about moving ahead with Mason.” Lark hadn’t told her sisters about what she’d planned for Mason tonight before she left for the date, and she didn’t want to tell them now. It was private, between her and Mason. “I trust him, and now I need you two to trust
me
and quit nosing into Mason’s business.”

Melody nodded, looking slightly shamed, but Aria only crossed her arms and said, “We’ll stop when we get all the facts.”

Lark fought the urge to raise her voice. “No, you’ll stop now. What happens or doesn’t happen between Mason and me is our business, no one else’s.”

Aria huffed. “Well, it was certainly our business when he left you.”

“Aria, don’t,” Melody said, but Aria pushed on.

“How many nights did we sit up with you while you were crying over him?” she asked. “Picking apart every detail of your relationship and his proposal and the last night you spent together, looking for some sign, some clue you’d overlooked that would have let you know he was going to run?”

Lark closed her eyes. “That was different.”

“The only thing that’s different is that you’re under his spell again, now,” Aria said. “But what happens when he leaves the next time, and you’re even more broken than you were before? Are you still going to tell us your relationship with Mason, or
lack
of relationship with Mason, is none of our business?”

“I won’t come crying to you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Lark said, opening her eyes, meeting Aria’s hard gaze with one of her own.

“You can always come crying to us,” Melody said, a quiver in her voice. “Come on, y’all, let’s not fight. I hate it when we fight.”

“I’m not fighting,” Aria said. “I’m doing what I think is right for my sister, because I love her and I wish someone had done the same for me before I screwed everything up by trusting a man who didn’t deserve it.”

It was the first time Lark had heard Aria even hint at what had happened between her and Liam, Felicity’s father, and enough to make Lark forget the response on the tip of her tongue. Aria had been very tight-lipped when it came to Liam, saying “it didn’t work out,” and leaving it at that. Even Dad hadn’t been able to get any more information out of her, and Aria had always been a daddy’s girl.

“So, let me snoop, Lark,” Aria continued. “You need someone with a clear head looking out for you. I’ll keep checking up on Mason, and if I don’t find anything, then we won’t have to talk about this ever again. But if I do…”

Aria didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t have to. Lark knew what would happen if Aria found something on Mason. She would shove it in Lark’s face, trying not to let Lark see how much she was enjoying proving that Lark was a fool for daring to believe in happily ever after and dreams coming true.

“You want to see this fail, don’t you?” Lark whispered, tears rising unexpectedly in her eyes. “You want him to make a fool of me.”

The way Liam made a fool out of you,
she wanted to add, but didn’t. Aria was driving her crazy right now, but her sister wasn’t deliberately being cruel. She was trying to help, in her bossy, abrasive way.

Aria sighed. “No, of course I don’t. I only want you to be careful.”

“It’s too late to be careful,” Lark said, sniffing, trying not to break out in a full-fledged sob fest. She hadn’t even admitted it to herself out loud, but it was true.

The second she laid eyes on Mason Stewart, it was too late to resist. He was it,
the one
, and a part of her had been waiting for him to come back since the moment he left, a part that had always known no other man could touch her heart the way Mason had.

“It’s
not
too late,” Aria said. “You just need to—”

“It is,” Lark said firmly. “It was too late the night I saw him at Lisa’s wedding. There is never going to be anyone else for me. Mason is it. He’s the only man who’s ever made me feel this way.”

“Addicted?” Aria supplied in a strained voice.

“No!” Lark said, lowering her volume when she remembered the baby was asleep and shouting wasn’t allowed. “Not addicted. Hopeful. And…and happy. And understood. He gets me, Ra.” She met her older sister’s gaze, pleading with her eyes for Aria to understand. “He knows me, inside and out. He’s the only man who has ever made me feel loved for exactly who I am, warts and all.”

“You don’t have any warts. You’re gorgeous, Sissy,” Melody said, using the old nickname from when she was too little to say ‘Lark.’ “You could have any man in Summerville. Any man in Atlanta!”

“But I don’t want any man,” Lark said. “It’s Mason or no one. If things don’t work out this time, then that’s it. I’m done dating. I’m through looking for someone to fill the Mason-shaped place inside of me because no one ever will.”

Aria sighed again and slowly shook her head. “Okay. If that’s the way you feel.” She pulled out one of the chairs and sank down into it, hands coming to cup her cocoa.

“Does that mean you’ll stop looking for dirt on Mason?” Lark asked.

“Yes, fine,” Aria mumbled, staring into her mug.

“And could you maybe be a little nicer to him when he comes to pick me up tomorrow morning?” Lark knew she was pushing it, but if things worked out the way she was hoping they would, then…

Well, then Aria would have to learn to be civil to Mason, sooner or later, because Mason was going to be around for a long, long time.

The thought made her smile.

“Felicity and I are going to the store tomorrow morning,” Aria said.

“What time?” Lark asked.

“In the morning,” she said. “The entire morning. Especially whatever time Mason is coming to pick you up.”

“Oh come on, Aria, be nice,” Melody snapped in a rare burst of temper. She raised her voice so rarely even Aria tended to pay attention when she did.

“Fine!” Aria rolled her eyes. “I’ll be nicer to him.” Aria took a sip of her cocoa, grimacing as she swallowed. “But for the record, I think Mason should stay on the suspicious list for at least another month. You’re making this entirely too easy for him.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Lark said, silently thinking that tonight had been anything but easy for Mason. “But that’s my choice to make.”

She backed away from the table. “See you two in the morning.”

“Night, Lark,” Melody called after her as she moved toward the stairs.

Lark waved and headed up to her old bedroom, the one she had still lived in when she and Mason had first met. It was still decorated the way she’d left it, with light blue paint and old restaurant signs she had collected since she was a kid nailed to the walls.

Lark had decided she was going to run a fancy restaurant—not a string of BBQ shacks like her dad and mom—when she was five. She’d started her first imaginary restaurant when she was six, designing a sign and a menu and forcing Melody and Aria to play “out to dinner” for hours every weekend. She’d always dreamed of being a cook, and of having her own restaurant someday. It had been her one, all consuming, “when I’m grown up” fantasy.

So many of her friends in high school had daydreamed about getting married and having babies, but, though Lark wasn’t opposed to getting married and having kids, she’d never thought about settling down right out of high school. It seemed like such a far-away thing, something to consider once she’d graduated with her business degree and started down the road to making her dream come true.

It wasn’t until she met Mason that she started to imagine herself with a new last name, to think about a future with someone else in it, a forever someone, someone she would grow up with and grow old with, who would share her life and help her bring new lives into the world.

Not long before he had left, she and Mason had talked about kids, about how many they wanted—three for her, four for him—and when they might be able to start a family. They’d agreed they should wait until Mason was finished with his residency, but that if a baby surprised them a little earlier, well…that wouldn’t be the end of the world. They were so in love, a baby had seemed like the natural next step, even though Lark was only twenty-one and Mason twenty-five.

When Mason had left, Lark had mourned the death of more than their relationship. She had mourned the babies they would never have, and all the other dreams they’d dreamed together that would never come true.

But now…

Now…

Lark fell onto her back on her double bed with the frilly white comforter with a giddy sigh. Her hope was still so new that it made her heart beat faster every time she thought about it.

She and Mason were going to give this a shot. A real shot. A shot that might very well end in the resurrection of every buried dream, the fulfillment of every deferred hope.

It was...a heady thought.

So heady, Lark didn’t know how she’d be able to fall asleep, not with tomorrow and the day after and the day after rolling out before her like a rainbow leading to a treasure.

But eventually she did sleep, and dream of a big wedding of her own, one with lots of friend and families and flowers, and Mason waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

Chapter Nine

Date Four

“Pancakes, or waffles?” Lark scrunched her nose and puckered her lips, making her thinking face.

“Or maybe we should order two of each to share? Or maybe two pancakes, and one waffle, since waffles are bigger? What do you think?” Lark asked, shooting him a serious look over the edge of her menu that made him laugh.

“What? Don’t laugh,” she said, grinning. “This is a serious decision!”

“Sorry, I’m just...” He trailed off with a smile, admiring the way the morning light through the diner window made Lark’s hair glow a soft gold, the way her smile lit up the front of the restaurant, drawing people’s attention as they drifted by in search of a table.

“Just what?” she asked, eyes shining.

“Happy,” he said. “So happy I’m probably going to make all the bitter people we run into today want to vomit all over themselves.”

Lark giggled. “That’s really, repulsively happy.”

“It’s disgusting. And all your fault,” Mason said, throwing a sugar packet over the edge of her menu. “You made me this way.”

“I do what I can,” she said, taking a slow sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim the entire time, making his pulse leap.

Just meeting her eyes was enough to send awareness zipping along every nerve. Keeping his hands off of her today was going to be hell.

Sweet, sweet hell.

“But seriously, Mason,” Lark said, setting her cup back into its saucer. “It’s time to get serious.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously serious,” she said. “Pancakes. Waffles. Or both?”

“Both. Let’s order one of everything and eat until our stomachs explode.” Mason pushed his menu to the edge of the table. “Happiness makes me hungry.”

“Happiness makes me hungry, too, but there will be no exploding stomachs,” Lark said, setting her menu on top of his. “I need your stomach intact for the next phase of my evil plan to make you even more grossly happy.”