Out of the Shadows (18 page)

“So are these letters I’m planting
legitimate?”

“Yes, we’d have Daniel do it, but
none of us trust him. We’re lucky Daniel is trusted enough to have a personal
phone so we can communicate
with him
periodically
. It’s the
only way we can
get information about Emily
. Well, at
least what
he’ll tell us of what is happening in there.”

“So I’m setting Emmett up?”

“Yes, you’re the only one who can
get in there. Emmett would know if another wolf entered the vicinity. No one
would get close enough to plant them. He has too many spies. Even if I trusted
Daniel, I wouldn’t want the entirety of our plan resting in his hands. You know
you don’t have to do this, Lark.” Devon’s arm tightened as they stepped up and
over a fallen log.

“I know.”

They fell into a comfortable
silence. Devon’s breath whispered against her neck as they moved along the
narrowed trail.

“Shit,” Lark muttered realizing
what night it was and that she had made plans for the evening.

“What?” Devon stiffened next to
her.

Lark sighed, heat creeping across
her face.

“I was supposed to meet Grant at
Luigi’s tonight at eight-thirty.”

“Oh,” Devon snapped.

“He’s probably called half a dozen
times by now. I left my cell in my room.” The sound of his voice already echoed
in her head with the multitude of voice mails she was certain she already had
from him.

“What do you see in him anyway?”
Devon asked icily.

Lark wanted to come up with a quick
retort, but her mind drew a blank. There was nothing romantic between them.
There hadn’t been for a long time even before they broke up. “We’re not dating,
just hanging out and getting reacquainted. He was gone for three years. And we
were really good friends growing up.”

“And he sees it that way too?”

“Yeah,” Lark said instantly, but
his question made her wonder.
Did Grant want something more?
Was she leading him on?
Lark wasn’t the type of girl who misled someone on
purpose. She had told Grant they were just friends from the get go.

“That might be what he tells you,”
Devon said. “But trust me, he has other things in mind.”

“Well, what does it matter to you?”
Lark fired back. His split personalities were exhausting. Couldn’t he just
admit he liked her already, and that he was jealous? His exaggerated
disinterest in her at times was infuriating.

Devon was silent for a long moment.
“So you grew up here?”

Lark debated pursuing their
previous topic or starting off fresh for a long moment.

“I did. We took a lot of vacations
around the world and saw a lot of beautiful places, but there is something
about this area. I don’t think I could ever truly leave.”

“It feels like home,” Devon stated.

“Exactly.”

Lark turned her head to see Devon.
She could see the outline of him but without the bustling lights of the city
she was virtually blind.

“Have you thought about going back
to Guymon? You know if everything works out and you-” she paused trying to
think of the right words “-dethrone Emmett?”

Devon chuckled. “No, I don’t think
so. I may have lived there the majority of my life, but this is home for me.
This is where I want to be.”

Lark smiled, relief flooding her.
Guymon would be too far away. He might not be at the Harris ranch all the time,
but there would always be reasons to stop by his place, or for him to stop in
The Cookie Jar.

“What about you, have you thought
about expanding your business?” Devon asked.

“It’s crossed my mind. The shop is
doing so well, but I don’t want to stretch myself too thin. Rick was the one
who helped me set everything up. We picked out the space together, he showed me
how to do the books and really helped guide me. In the beginning, he did
everything but the baking as he showed me the ropes.”

“For what it’s worth, Lark, I think
you could do a franchise if you wanted. You’re a very talented cook.”

“Thanks,” Lark smiled, her heart
fluttered happily.

The bright white of the porch light
came into view and Lark sighed as they neared home. This had been a fun
afternoon. Hopefully tomorrow would go just as smoothly.

Walking around Devon’s old
farmhouse, Lark admired the beauty of the structure. The house needed some
cosmetic work, and it had an old musty smell, but with a little work it would
be perfect. The wood floor boards creaked beneath her as she explored the home
further.

“This is yours?” Lark said impressed, trailing her fingers
over the oak banister.

“Yeah, it isn’t much, but it’s mine.”

“Isn’t much? This is fantastic. You could paint these lower
rooms and hang up some new molding along the wall,” Lark smiled as she
continued down the hall to a large arched entrance. “Wow, look at this
kitchen,” she breathed. It was huge
. T
he appliances were outdated,
but with the hardwood floors and spacious laminate counter tops, the potential
was there.

Devon cleared his throat. Lark looked up heat creeping
across her face. She may have gotten a little too excited. This was his house,
not hers.

He leaned against the door frame an
amused expression on his face.

“Sorry,” Lark murmured averting her
eyes to the floor. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, falling to her elbow.
Flustered, she quickly pulled it back up. “Do you have somewhere I can change?”
She reprimanded herself. They were here to practice, not have a tour.

“The bathroom is across the hall,
or you can use any of the bedrooms upstairs, except the last one on the right,”
Devon responded, pushing off the wall.

“I’ll just use the bathroom,” she
mumbled, brushing past him toward the door closest to the stairs.

“I’ll meet you back here. We can
practice in the basement. It will be cool down there, and it is already kind of
set up.”

“Okay.” Relief flooded her, it was
hot today. Yesterday had been in the upper eighties. T
oday, it
was near one hundred - t
hat was Texas for you. Regardless, the heat was
excruciating.

Lark walked into the bathroom,
closing the door behind her. The walls were covered in seashell wall paper. The
toilet seat had a clear cover with seashells imbedded into it.
I
wonder how long it will take him to redo this room.
She mused
to herself, suppressing a laugh.

Shaking her thoughts away, she set
her bag on the floor
.
Lark
stepped out of her ballet
flats and clothes, slipping into her black cotton shorts, grey sports bra and
green tank top. Lark leaned into the sink and used the mirror to tuck stray
blonde curls back into her ponytail.

Satisfied with her appearance, she
opened the creaky door and peeked into the hallway. Devon stood waiting for her
at the end of the hall leaning against the railing of the stairs.

The black tank top he wore clung to
his muscular upper body, his dirty blonde hair was ruffled slightly. She licked
her lips, he looked good.

“Ready?” Lark asked.

“This way,” Devon said, motioning
with his hand.

Lark followed behind him their feet
clomping on the floor boards as they walked to the back of the house to a worn
white door. Devon opened the door and led her down the stairs.

She was expecting it to be dark and
dank down here, but the place had been completely redone. It was set up like a
mini gym. It was bright and well stocked with top of the line equipment.

“I spent a lot of time here by
myself when I stayed over the summers with Rick. I fixed it up down here.” He
ran his fingers over the top of a punching bag, removing a thick layer of dust.
“It hasn’t been used in a few years.”

“So you lived here?”

“Off and on, I came here when I
wanted time to myself,” Devon shrugged. “We should get started.”

Lark sucked in a deep breath,
mentally preparing for the next few hours.

After their stretches, Devon walked
to the corner and pulled some gloves off a table and handed them to her.

“We can start with the punching bag
first. Try these on, they may be a little big, but you don’t want to punch
without them.”

Lark took the black gloves and
slipped her hands into them effortlessly. Devon moved to the punching bag,
standing behind it.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Devon said
tightening his stance while gripping the bag.

Lark shifted lightly on her feet
before she threw her first punch. The bag shook, chains rattled, and her
knuckles exploded with pain. She thrust her other fist forward.

“How did things go with Grant last
night? Was he angry you stood him up?” Devon asked, his eyes focused on
something behind her.

“Okay,” Lark said striking out
again. “He was upset, but we rescheduled for Saturday night. I figure if I’m
going to go to my doom,
I
might as well have one last hurrah before I
do.”

Devon scowled at her, and she
realized belatedly how that may have sounded.

“We’re meeting for drinks and going
out dancing. I haven’t been out socially in forever,” Lark clarified.

He didn’t say anything for a long
moment. His eyes remained fixated on some foreign object.

“You know you don’t have to go
through with this, right?”

“I know, but, if something happens
to Gene or you, there’s no telling what your stepfather may do to me and Sarah.
Then there is Emily, I couldn’t imagine-“

Devon interrupted. “I appreciate
your help. Although, I’ll admit I’m confused why you’re doing all this for
someone you barely know.”

Lark frowned. “It’s the right thing
to do. It’s no different than the police, FBI, firemen, paramedics, putting
their life on the line for others.”

“You’re a baker.”

“True,” Lark said rolling her eyes.
“But there are heroes out there who do random acts of kindness for others, for
no reason, other than it’s the right thing to do.”

“Fair enough,” Devon replied,
stepping away from the bag. “I’m sure Em will be glad to see you.”

Lark followed him with her eyes as
he came to stand behind her. She inhaled sharply as his hands came to rest on
her hips.

“Make sure your heel comes up when
you punch,” Devon’s warm breath whispered against her neck.

His other hand touched her
shoulder, squaring her body.

“Try again,” he urged.

Lark tried in vain to focus on the
bag and not the heat of his hands searing into her skin. Closing her eyes, she
punched. The chain holding the bag up clanked loudly as the sack swayed.

“Better,” Devon commented. “Try
again.”

She swung out connecting with the
bag again. Devon stepped back, and she immediately missed the warmth of his
hands.

“Do you think I’ll be ready?” Lark
asked as she waited for the bag to still.

“I think so. You have a strong
spirit. Just remember what we’re doing. A well placed strike is ten times more
effective than a sloppy one.”

“If something happens to me you’ll
make sure that Sarah gets someplace safe, right? Sell the bakery, the house,
send her somewhere far away.” Lark paused and turned to Devon. This was all for
nothing if Sarah wouldn’t be safe.

“She’ll be taken care of,” Devon
placed a hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

Lark stared into his eyes seeing
the sincerity. That was one thing they had in common, their love for family.
There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do to protect the ones they loved.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, his mossy green-blue eyes
locked onto her. Her body shifted forward on its own. If something did happen,
if plans fell through, she didn’t want to wonder what may have been. Right now
she didn’t want to think about the consequences or wonder what would happen
after – she wanted to live in the moment, she wanted Devon.

As if sensing her resolve, Devon
tilted his head down capturing her lips. The kiss was rough and full of need.
Her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly close. She wanted –
needed
- him.

Devon’s tongue traced along her
bottom lip, his teeth biting and sucking. Heat scorched as his hands trailed
along her sides.

Lark groaned when Devon pulled
away.

“Lark-“

“I know what I’m doing,” Lark
kissed him again. “I like you, Devon, and I don’t know what this is, but-“

Devon cut her off with another
searing kiss. Hands on her hips, he pushed her backwards. Her back grazed
against the cement wall as his body pressed against hers. His sandy blonde
stubble sinfully scratched her chin. Lark let out a throaty moan, enjoying the
feel of his strong muscles throbbing beneath her fingers as she traced up and
down his back with her hands.

His lips broke away, kissing down
her neck, while her fingers ran through his hair.

“Devon,” she breathed out huskily.
Hands grasping, she gripped his tank top, heaving it over his head. Swallowing
she took in his taut chest admiring each and every curve. His hands tugged on
the hem of her shirt as he slid it up and yanked it off.

With a grunt, Devon lifted her up.
Her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed her firmly
against the wall. His hands held her hips, dipping lower to cup her ass. Lips
on hers, he deepened the kiss,
his
tongue meeting hers in a hypnotic
dance. Lark wanted more – she wanted to feel all of him - now.

Boldly she lowered her hands,
inserting them inside his mesh shorts and grasping his butt tightly. With a
growl, Devon dropped her feet to the floor
. His
lips on her neck
;
he
peppered her with kisses as he shoved her shorts down until they pooled at her
ankles. He pulled away from her long enough to shove her sports bra up and pull
it off her.

Lark let out a gasp as his lips
found the sensitive flesh of her breast, his tongue swirled around the nipple
sucking gently. His warm, callused hands ran up and down her thighs, slowly
trailing to her throbbing core. A cry bubbled out of her throat as he rolled
his thumb across her clit.

Unable to take anymore she tugged
on his shorts, slithering her hand around until she grasped his hard cock in
her hand. Devon bucked forward with a hiss, biting down on her nipple. His
mouth tore away, eyes meeting hers as she stepped out of her shorts and
sneakers. With a final shove on his shorts they fell to the floor.

Cupping her bottom, Devon lifted
her back up tilting her back against the wall. He positioned himself at her
core, eyes holding hers, he plunged inside her. Lark closed her eyes as he
filled her
,
enjoying the fullness of him inside her.

Pinned against the wall, she could
only rise and fall as he allowed. His lips devoured hers as he thrust against
her. Lark writhed, crying out as he found her sweet spot. Her back scraped
against the cement wall adding pleasure and pain with each thrust.

His movements were rough,
worshipping her body and bringing her to the edge. Devon made her feel alive. Not
just with her body, but with her soul. He awakened something inside her that
she’d never realized was there. Even though they often butted heads, Devon made
her a better person. Pushed her to do things she would never have done before.
He made her question her future and made her want more from it.

Lark moaned, her fingers tangling
in his hair. He placed kisses down her jaw, to her neck, and took one of her
nipples into his mouth. Her back arched, squeezing him tighter, pulling him
impossibly deeper.

This moment felt right, it was
perfect. She didn’t know what was going on between them, but she wanted to find
out if there was something more there than physical attraction.

Lark cried out, her breath
quickened, body tensed as she reached her peak, and tumbled over the edge. Devon
followed after her with a throaty growl, burying himself deep inside her.

He held her, limbs tangled
together, sweat glistening on their flesh. Gasping for breath they both came
down from their high. Sated, Lark closed her eyes resting her head on his
shoulder. After a long moment, Devon gently set her on her feet.

Placing soft kisses to her neck he
trailed up to her ear.

“Let’s go upstairs to my room,” he
whispered. He pulled away eyes searching hers. Cupping her face, he pushed a
loose strand of hair from her face. Lark nodded, her body still pulsating.

***

Lark blinked her eyes open. The dark blue sheets rolled
tightly around her. Her body hummed in post coital bliss. They’d made love
again, the second time slower and more sensual than the first as they took the
time to explore each other.

She rolled over and reached out for
Devon. Her heart dropped, the bed was vacant. Slowly she sat up, scanning the
room. Empty.

Her lip caught between her teeth as she stood up, and let
out a long breath. Had he left her? The bright green of her tank top caught her
eye. Her clothes were laid out neatly on the desk by the door.