Page 65 of Freeing Lark

It wasn’t like any kiss Hoot had ever experienced. There was no hunger without tenderness. No heat without something deeper beneath it. It felt like recognition. Like he’d somehow found something he’d never known he’d been searching for.

His hand slid carefully to her waist. Lark leaned into him. And Hoot knew with startling certainty that he never wanted the moment to end. That realization scared him more than any mission he’d ever walked into.

Bullets were simple. Enemies were simple. Fear was simple.

This wasn’t. This was Lark. And for the first time in years, Hoot had something he could lose.

CHAPTER 19

Lark woke with her fingers pressed against her lips. For one glorious, disorienting second, she couldn’t remember why. Then she did.

The kiss.

Her heart gave an enthusiastic little leap. She stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment for what had to be the hundredth time.

It had been explosive. Not just a kiss. Not even close.

She’d kissed Bradley plenty of times. Those kisses had always felt like something she was supposed to do. Part of being his girlfriend. Part of playing the role her parents had arranged for her. She’d tolerated them because she’d believed that was what was expected.

Cormac’s kiss had been nothing like that.

There had been no obligation. No expectation or calculation. Just want.

His mouth on hers had ignited something inside her she’d never known was there, and she’d wanted more. So much more that it should have scared her. It didn’t.

That was the strangest part. For once, someone wanted her. Not the daughter of wealthy parents. Not the woman connected to the Whitmore family. Not a potential political or social advantage. Just Lark.

There had been no ulterior motive hiding behind Cormac’s kiss. No bargain. No expectation that she’d become someone else to deserve it.

Just desire. And, apparently, she was very much here for that. A smile tugged at her lips.

Then the memory of the nightmare returned. Her smile faded.

Poor Cormac. He’d carried that nightmare for years. Eight years of hearing Bullet’s final word as a plea. Pray.

She could still see the expression on his face when she’d suggested it might have meant something else. Shock. Then devastation. It was obvious he’d never considered the possibility that Bullet had been trying to warn them.

What if he had? What if that single word had been the beginning of something he’d been trying desperately to tell them?

Lark had no idea what it meant. But she knew one thing. Cormac needed answers. And she wanted to help him find them. She just didn’t know how.

Eventually, she dragged herself out of bed and got ready. When she stepped into the living area, she stopped.

Cormac was awake. He sat on her tiny couch, fully dressed, one ankle resting over the opposite knee. His brown hair was slightly damp, suggesting he’d already showered.

But that wasn’t what caught her attention. It was the glasses. She blinked.

The enormous, intimidating former SEAL who could probably break down a door with his bare hands was wearing reading glasses perched on the end of his nose while studying something on his phone.

It was... ridiculously adorable. And somehow, incredibly sexy.

She leaned against the doorway. “Well, this is disappointing.”

His eyes lifted. “What’s that?”

“I was under the impression you were some sort of superhuman.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed?”