“She’s still not happy,” he commented as soon as the last corner was tucked away, creating a cocoon.
“Maybe she just wants it to be tighter.”
“Do you want to give it a try?”
Lark shook her head. Their kiss was too fresh. Her body had yet to come down off the thrill. She couldn’t let him see how her hands trembled. “You’re doing great.”
He shot her a doubtful frown as he unwrapped Grace. Lark stood as close as she could to him without touching to observe his next attempt. Despite the lack of contact, energy arched across the distance between them, setting her skin to tingling.
“I think you could go a little tighter,” she offered, reaching out to demonstrate. Their hands brushed in passing, and the zap of contact caused her stomach muscles to tighten in reaction. She swallowed a gasp.
Fifteen minutes ago she’d decided to agree to his moving in. Now she wasn’t so sure. Living in such close quarters was bound to lead to more inconsequential physical contact. And then there was that kiss to consider. She could easily write off Keaton’s impulse as a reaction to the frustration of Grace’s disquiet, but it hadn’t been that sort of kiss. It had been tender and curious. He’d kissed Lark with focused deliberation as if that was the only thing on his mind. As if it had been on his mind for a while.
She trembled.
“I think we’ve finally got it right.”
At Keaton’s relieved words, Lark blinked and reoriented herself in the moment. The tight swaddle had done the trick. Grace had stopped crying and her mouth opened on a giant yawn.
“You did it.”
“We did it,” he corrected. “We’re a team, remember?”
For the first time she didn’t freeze up at his words. “A good team,” she agreed, scooping the sleepy infant into her arms.
“I’m feeling more confident that we can do this.” Keaton followed her to the couch where the bassinet waited.
“You weren’t before?”
“Not once she started crying and wouldn’t stop.”
Lark had begun having doubts way before they left the hospital. Taking care of her sister’s baby was a responsibility Lark didn’t take lightly. Add in Grace’s premature birth and the risks that accompanied such things, and the need for success grew proportionately more crucial.
“It’s been a long night,” Lark said, placing Grace in the bassinet before sitting beside her. After she’d confirmed that Grace slept on, Lark let her head fall back and closed her eyes.
“You do realize it’s only midnight.”
The cushion beside her dipped as Keaton joined her on the couch. The substantial differences in their weight caused him to sink deeper into the cushions and Lark slipped toward the resulting dip, reducing the distance between them. She kept her eyes closed and let her other senses come alive.
“That’s all?” she murmured, revived by the rhythm of her vigorous heartbeat.
His shoulder bumped against hers. He smelled like soap and baby powder from Grace’s last change. “She’s finally quiet.”
The sleeve of his crisp cotton shirt grazed across the top of her arms as he reached out to Grace. Sitting beside Keaton reminded Lark how long it had been since she’d let a man get close to her.
Although she’d had relationships in college and dated frequently the year she’d worked at Houston Methodist Hospital, since returning to Royal, Lark’s love life had been limited to a few first dates with men she’d met online.
“But is she sleeping?”
“Not yet.” His breath puffed against her temple.
She turned her head toward him and waited, wondering if he wanted to repeat their earlier kiss. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes. He was staring past her, gaze glued to a distant spot. Her lips parted as the longing for his kiss overwhelmed her. What would he do if she told him how she felt? Would he sweep her into his arms and drink deeply of her hunger or excuse the earlier kiss as a mistake?
Keaton withdrew his arm, and Lark’s practical nature reasserted itself. What was she thinking? She couldn’t get involved with Keaton. Look what had happened to Skye’s relationship with their parents when the truth had come out about her and Jake. If anything happened between Lark and Keaton, there would be no running away. Keaton’s life was the Holts’ ranch, and Lark hadn’t been happy living away from Royal. This was where she belonged. No, better that she and Keaton work together to take care of Grace and ignore whatever chemistry had sparked between them.
“You should move in.” The blunt declaration came out of nowhere and surprised Lark as much as it did Keaton.