by Gun Brooke
Lark nuzzled the soft mounds through the fabric, teasing the nipples with her lips. “Mmm, you smell so good,” she moaned. “I love how you feel.”
“You too. You feel amazing. And it’s been so long.”
Lark looked up. “For me too. Too long, really, but I’m glad you’re here, and I’m here. This—” She cupped Sheridan’s breast through the fabric and kissed it gently. “This, you, are worth waiting for.”
Sheridan sobbed, a nearly inaudible intake of breath that startled Lark.
“Sheridan?” She let go of her breast and sat up farther. “Hey, you all right?”
“Yes. No.” Sheridan leaned her forehead against Lark’s shoulder. “I’m okay. I just…I never thought there’d ever be anything like this. Again.”
“You’re gorgeous. That and a thousand other great things. Why wouldn’t there be something like this?” Lark laced her fingers through Sheridan’s disheveled hair.
“Because of that.” Sheridan motioned toward the abandoned wheelchair. “Because I’m not the same person I was before.”
“I think you are. The wheelchair aside, very little has changed. You’re still the same Sheridan Ward.”
“But I don’t feel the same.”
“That’s just it. I didn’t say that nothing had changed. But you know what I think?” Lark kissed Sheridan’s trembling lips gently. “Your opinions and views of yourself have changed. You’re still the daring, bright business tycoon, enterprising, smart…brilliant, even. But you feel different about yourself because you see other sides of yourself. I bet they were there before, unrecognized and unseen.”
“You mean I’ve always been a weepy, mushy pushover?” Sheridan huffed, but a smile began to play on her lips.
“Probably. But you had to be strong, all the time, for your mother and, later, for your father as well.”
“How do you know all these things?”
“I’m not saying that I know, but I’m good at guessing. Call it intuition. Going through all Fiona’s trials with her, physically and emotionally, has made me aware of how we humans react to adversity. My education and experience fill in some of the blanks. And my heart says the rest, when it comes to you.”
“Your heart?” Sheridan spoke quietly and seemed out of breath.
“Yes, I listen to my heart a lot. I follow my gut feeling. And, with you, that has been both the hardest and the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“How so?” Sheridan slumped back in the couch, pulling Lark with her.
“You’re pretty transparent regarding some things, but with others…you clam up.”
“Not with you, do I? Not much.”
“Not much, but enough to keep me guessing. And I don’t want to guess. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“I don’t mean to.” Sheridan smiled broader now. “But then again, I don’t want to come across as too predictable.”
“Predictable? I don’t think there’d ever be a risk of that.” Lark reached around Sheridan’s neck with both arms and hugged her. “Sure you’re all right? I don’t want you to feel upset in any way.”
“I am. I am fine.” Sheridan returned the embrace. “But perhaps, as much as I dislike saying this, it isn’t the time or the place…yet.”
“I know you’re right.” Lark groaned. “But I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I. I just feel like we’ve shared so much, you know, deeply personal things, and I need time to digest them. Make sense?”
“Yes. I feel the same way.” Lark willed her body to calm down. She didn’t want this to be just about the overpowering lust and passion that simmered under the surface. She felt much more than that for Sheridan. And Sheridan might never forgive her for the chat sessions. If she made love with Sheridan and then was rejected, it would devastate her.
Sheridan kissed her again, lingeringly and with nearly as much passion as before. “I’ll never be able to settle down tonight. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
“And we have an early morning tomorrow, driving back to San Antonio.”
“Feels like we just got here.”
Lark agreed. They’d spent six weeks at the lake, and the days had passed so quickly. They’d focused almost entirely on physiotherapy, and it was amazing how much progress Sheridan had made. She drove her wheelchair effortlessly up and down curves, even a few steps. With a little help, Sheridan could also manage to navigate an escalator. Her arms were toned and so was her abdomen, and her cardiac training had made it possible for her to actually race Frank with the wheelchair.
The dog was another budding success story. Frank had clearly found a new mission in life. He shadowed his owner most of his waking hours, circling her, probably hoping Sheridan would drop something or need his help some other way. He was affectionate toward Lark, as if he guessed he had her to thank for this new adventure, but mostly he worshipped at Sheridan’s feet.
“So, back to the real world,” Lark said slowly.
“You sound like you’re not happy with that.” Sheridan studied her. “Surely you don’t think I’ll bail on my training again?”
“No. Well, I hope not. Perhaps part of me fears that you’ll be swept up by all the preparations for the stockholders’ meeting.”
“If I do, I give you the right to come and drag me away, literally.”
Lark knew her smile showed some uncertainty. “I’ll take your word for it. Speaking of dragging, let’s call it a day.”
“Good idea.” Sheridan moved over to the wheelchair. “Frank probably needs to do his thing. I’ll let him out the back door. You go on. I can manage on my own.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I think I’ll sleep in the sweat suit. A bit cold, don’t you think?”
“Actually, yes.” Lark got up. “All right, see you tomorrow then. Bright and early.”
“Yes.” Sheridan took Lark’s hand in hers. “Thanks.”
Lark bent down and kissed Sheridan’s forehead with a bittersweet, unsettling feeling.
Chapter Twenty-One
“The Tokyo office has faxed the...Ms. Ward, is everything all right?” Erica stopped inside the door to the office, her expression shifting from business-like to worried within a second.
“I’m fine. Thank you.” It wasn’t untrue, but the last week had been increasingly crazy. So many meetings, working lunches, and social gatherings, with hardly enough time for everything.
“Do you need anything more, besides the Tokyo documents?” Erica placed a stack of folders on Sheridan’s desk.
“You know. I could use a latte, but, please, get something for yourself too. You’ve been here since seven this morning. Don’t think I don’t know that.” Sheridan checked her watch. “Damn, it’s already five-thirty. Lark’s going to kill me.”
“I can call her and let her know that you’ll be late.”
“Thanks, but I better do that myself, since I don’t think I’ll make PT tonight. Pity. I could have used the massage at least.” Sheridan rolled her shoulders and winced when pain stung her neck muscles.
“It’s the second time you’re canceling since you’ve come back from the lake.” Erica shook her head. “You’re close to being in the dog house.”
Sheridan had to laugh, since Erica had no idea how right she was. She’d actually had to cancel PT four times already, and even if Lark said she understood, it was clear that she was less than pleased.
Erica returned with the coffee, and Sheridan sipped it as she flipped open her private cell phone. She speed dialed Lark’s phone and rapped her fingertips on the desk as she waited.
“Mitchell.”
“Lark, it’s me.”
“Sheridan. How’s your day been?” Lark’s voice was noncommittal. Not a good sign.
“Busy. I told you it would be.”
“I know. And I understand. I’m just afraid that you’re burning the candle at both ends and that you’ll undo some of your progress.”
“That won’t happen.” Sheridan tried to sound reas
suring, but her neck hurt badly.
“I hope not. I worry.”
And I miss you. “If it was just about me, then I’d be home in a heartbeat. I have two more teleconferences to do, one with Tokyo and one with Cincinnati.”
“It’s already late. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.” Lark still sounded calm and friendly, which made Sheridan wonder if she was imagining her undertone of disappointment.
“I guess so.” She ran a finger up and down the edge of her desktop lamp. “And Frank. How’s he doing?”
“He’s acclimatizing pretty well, actually. That’s another thing. We need to keep up the connection between the two of you. Perhaps tomorrow morning once we’ve done the bar exercises.”
“It’s a deal.” No matter what, Sheridan wasn’t going to let work lure her into the office too soon. “Good night then, Lark, if I don’t see you when I come home.”
“’Night, Sheridan.”
A click told Sheridan that Lark had hung up. She was usually happy to deal with concise people who didn’t linger too long with good-byes, but she also knew that Lark wasn’t normally abrupt.
Her cell phone rang and made her jump. Thinking it was Lark, she pressed the button eagerly. “Wanted to say good night one more time? Or be tucked in?”
“What? Hello? Is this Sheridan?” a vaguely familiar voice asked, sounding puzzled.
“Yes. Who is this, please?”
“This is Fiona Mitchell. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time. I know you’re busy with the stockholders’ meeting coming up.”
Sheridan straightened. “What a nice surprise, Fiona. No, you’re not disturbing me. What can I do for you?” Sheridan assumed that Fiona hadn’t called just to chat.
“I talked to Lark earlier today, and she’s going to hate me for this, but I had to give you a call because I’m worried.”
A sliver of something icy slipped down Sheridan’s back. “Why? What’s the matter?”
“Lark doesn’t know that I’m calling, and I know she’ll be mad at me, but I couldn’t just sit idly by. So much is at stake for her, and she’s my sister, you know.”
“Sure.”
“Here’s the deal. I talk to Erica sometimes, your very nice assistant, since we seemed to hit it off when we visited your place. I know how busy you are and how insane your schedule is becoming, the closer you get to the meeting.”
“True. There’s a lot of work to do. Lark knows that, though.”
“Yes, she does. And she’s trying to not stress you out, but I know she’s concerned.”
“Has she told you that?”
“No,” Fiona said slowly. “Not in so many words. And I don’t want to go into detail… Damn, it’s hard to explain without betraying a confidence. I just want you to try and see if you can be sensitive enough to read between the lines with Lark. It’s not easy with her, because as fantastic as she is, she’s good at shoving things under the carpet, emotionally. She’s been hurt badly several times, but nobody knew until I weaseled it out of her. She’s always heroic and thinks she has to carry the world on her shoulders. She takes the blame for everything.”
“She’s so much a caregiver,” Sheridan agreed. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone as selfless and altruistic. So what do I look for when I read between the lines? You can’t let me go in blind, you know. I need something.”
“Just listen, pay attention to detail, and have an open mind. And please know that there isn’t a single calculating bone in Lark’s body. She’s always trying to do the right thing, and if she does anything that seems out of character, it’s for the right reasons.” Fiona’s voice sank. “I can’t say more than this, or I’d violate her confidence in me completely. Promise me that you’ll hear her out if y’all ever have a run-in about anything? While this is pretty cheeky of me, I can’t risk alienating you or angering Lark. I just feel this is important.”
“And a tad confusing. Does this have to do with anything in particular? Something Lark’s going to tell me?” Sheridan felt her heart sink.
“Yes. Perhaps. And please hear her out, okay?”
“Of course, I will.” Sheridan couldn’t imagine Lark saying anything that warranted a sisterly intervention like this. Unless…unless Lark harbored regrets when it came to their budding relationship. Sheridan drew an inaudible, deep breath. Don’t panic. “Fine. I’ll try to remember what you’ve said and do my best. Lark’s been wonderful to me and deserves nothing less.” Sheridan respected Fiona and was always in awe of how the badly injured woman could go on with her life with such optimism.
“Thank you, Sheridan. And there’s one more thing. My parents are hosting an exhibition at the gallery the weekend after the stockholders’ meeting. I know the business thingy isn’t over by then, but you are most welcome to join us.”
“Fantastic. What artists?”
“Just one. Me.”
Sheridan was stunned. “You?”
“Yes. I paint, and this is my tenth exhibition. Usually they’re pretty popular, so if you come the first day you might want to show up a little ahead of time.”
“I collect local artists. How come I’ve never heard of you?” Sheridan was puzzled. She loved to browse local art galleries and find new treasures.
“You may have. I work under the name Mitchell Hirsch.”
Lark Mitchell. Arthur Hirsch. Feeling utterly stupid for not connecting the dots, Sheridan groaned. “I don’t believe this. I have two of your paintings. And one sculpture.”
“That’s wonderful,” Fiona said, her voice warm. “I hope you enjoy them.”
“I do. God, I can be dense sometimes. Mitchell Hirsch. I was under the impression that Mitchell Hirsch was a man—”
“That ought to do it. The mistake, I mean. Very understandable.”
“I look forward to the exhibition. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thank you for taking what I said about Lark the way it was intended.”
They hung up, and Sheridan sat with her hand clasped around the phone. Fiona’s comments hadn’t exactly told her what her misgivings were about. Reading between the lines. Not my strong suit. Not when it came to personal relationships. And her relationship with Lark had gone from professional to personal so fast she was overwhelmed.
“You ready, ma’am?” Erica poked her head through the doorway.
“Sure.” Sheridan put her cell phone on the desk and wheeled toward the conference room where her department heads waited. Perhaps Lark would be awake when she got home so they could talk more. She missed her.
*
Lark knew she was being childish by hiding. She heard Sheridan come in, but didn’t leave her room to say hello. Blaming her absence on the fact that it was almost midnight, she turned in bed and tried to find a comfortable position. Part of her wanted to pad over to Sheridan’s bedroom and make sure she was all right, but she knew she wouldn’t.
Her conscience was plaguing her, and it also kept her from putting Sheridan on the spot about their training sessions. The fact that Sheridan had so easily fallen back into old patterns, and spent at least twelve hours at the office every day, was reason enough for Lark to put her foot down. However, she couldn’t. She’d betrayed Sheridan already, even if she’d had the best of intentions, and she had no right to ask anything of her. No right to cash in on any promises that Sheridan had made.
Lark’s stomach churned and she turned on the nightstand light. Her laptop sat ready to be switched on. Hesitating for only a few seconds, Lark pulled it onto her lap and pressed the power switch. It didn’t take long to access her chat software. Lark had hardly spoken to Sheridan this way since she’d come back from the lake, but somehow she craved the connection right now.
Grey_bird: You around, Sheri_star?
Sheri_star: You bet! Just got home and bathed. Feel like a new person.
Grey_bird: You’re tired?
Sheri_star: Beyond tired. But important things happen in a few days, so better stay on top.
Grey_bird: So how are you doing?
Sheri_star: I’m back from the lake, but I don’t feel quite…back. Yet.
Grey_bird: Sorry to hear that. What can I do to help?
Sheri_star: Nothing, I guess. Well, it’s always nice to chat with you, but I need to fix things on my own.
Grey_bird: How’s the PT going?
Sheri_star: Oh, God. I won’t get any brownie points for that. I’ve hardly had time since we settled back in here.
Grey_bird: Your physical therapist happy with that?
Sheri_star: Hardly.
Grey_bird: And how do you feel about it? You were so excited about the training only a week ago.
Sheri_star: That was then. The circumstances at my summerhouse were close to utopia. I just don’t know how to get back into the swing of things. At least not until after the major event that’s coming up.
Grey_bird: I’d think you need to prioritize.
Sheri_star: I suppose. That’s just it, though. I can’t put the stockholders last. They’re just as instrumental to the business as the employees. They need to come first.
Grey_bird: And you? Surely you’re just as important. To the business and the people around you.
Sheri_star: Hey, it’s me you’re talking to. You should know better than to use platitudes like that.
Lark stared at the screen, unprepared for the annoyed words. Despite her best intentions, she was aggravated, and she tugged the laptop closer.
Grey_bird: That was uncalled for. I’m trying to understand and be supportive.
Sheri_star:To me it feels like you’re trying to push me into a mold where I don’t fit. I’m not the average cozy type that needs reassurance and pats on the back constantly.
