Page 51 of Freeing Lark

“When?”

“A few days before the gala.” She explained about the disturbed earth. The footprints she’d noticed. Then she explained to him about Calloway. “I saw the same symbol on his lapel pin.”

Hoot stared at her.

“I saw you looking at him.”

“I was.”

“You know him?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t like him?” It still amazed him how astute she could be.

“Yes. But I don’t know why.”

She folded her arms. “Something about him rubs you the wrong way. I didn’t get a good vibe from him either.”

Hoot’s gaze shot to her. “You met him.”

She let out a huff of laughter. “Wasn’t by choice. Apparently, according to my mother, he’s an appropriate man for me.”

“What?” His hand clenched the rough wood, the sharp splinters biting into his flesh.

“My mother is nothing if not consistent. First Bradley. Now this guy.”

“She treats her daughters like whores to be sold off to the highest bidder.” Her laughter rang out, and for a moment, he could only stare, captivated by her.

“Mother wasn’t too pleased when I said the same.”

“I’m sorry she treats you like that.”

“Not the first time. Probably won’t be the last either. I’m used to it. And I’m over it.” She sounded as if she believed her own words, but he could sense an underlying insecurity to her tone. Then her expression changed to something that looked a lot like guilt.

“I should confess something to you.”

He angled his head slightly, his interest piqued. “What’s that?”

“To get her off my back, I kinda told her I had a boyfriend, and it was serious.”

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word and wondering why she was confessing this to him.

“They asked for his name.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I gave them yours.”

At first, he thought he’d misheard, but then her words fully registered in his mind. Then laughter burst out of him. In surprise, her head shot up, her eyes like saucers.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because I used your name in a lie.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, his gaze intense, searching the depths of her green-gray eyes as he uttered a soft, “No. You used my name as a shield.”

She gaped at him. She closed her mouth abruptly, the sound a soft snap, before letting out a bewildered, “Huh. Never thought about it like that. And to think I was feeling guilty all this time.”

“No need for the guilt,” he assured giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be your shield anytime.” He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he knew them to be true. Somehow, Lark Meadows had become someone important to him.