Exhausted too, I couldn’t sleep. The desire to create woke me early and I eventually left the bed. Lark looked so fragile cocooned in the sheet. Even hating to leave her, I needed to get all of my emotions out on paper.
Professor followed me out to the studio. Pollack considered coming along then changed her mind and returned to snoozing on the couch. Once in front the easel, I let loose.
I sketched Lark smiling. Painted Lark laughing. Grabbed charcoal and drew her sleeping. My muse inspired me to create one image of her after another. Eventually, I sketched her expression when she had an orgasm.
Hands covered in paint and charcoal, I sat down and stared at the pictures I’d created. As Lark looked back at me from all of my creations, I accepted what I had been hiding from all morning.
I was in love with Lark.
The fantasy of her had transformed into the reality of loving her. She was everything I hoped for all those nights when I wished to know her. Now, I knew her and she was better than the fantasy.
Lark knew how to make me feel like a man, strong and protective. She also understood how to keep my head from lodging up my arrogant ass. Her teasing made me laugh and kept me in line. She was a tiny fighter and I wanted her to smile at me always.
While I never loved Kristen, I also managed to see qualities in her that she never possessed. I had created an image in my head detached from the reality of who she was. As I wiped my hands on a towel, I wondered if I was making the same mistake with Lark. Could she really be as perfect in my mind as she seemed?
Cooper said Farah’s flaws were perfect. Everything about her made him crazy and Lark was the same way. Was she my girl or a fiction I created? I was more than a little pissed how Cooper found his woman before I did. He didn’t need a muse. He never longed for that special girl. However, he found her and was living a happy life.
I wanted the same. There was no denying this fact. I just didn’t know if I craved the dream so much I’d created a lie in Lark. Was she also embracing a lie to get away from the crap of her family? Were we fools to believe we belonged together? Fate fought to keep us apart, yet I couldn’t let her go.
The door to the studio opened and Lark poked in her head. I hadn’t realized so much time had passed and I shouldn’t have left her to wake alone. She looked a little nervous then her gaze fell on all of my artwork of her. On the walls, leaning in corners, one sketch after another, the work made me look like a frigging stalker.
Lark’s expression wasn’t difficult to read. Even with the fake smile on her face, her eyes were horrified.
“I paint what I’m into,” I said, trying to seem casual. “You should see the number of paintings I made when I was really into meatball subs.”
“This is how you see me?” she asked, staring at the most recent works, some still wet. “They don’t look anything like me.”
Lark reached out to touch the blissful expression I drew of her. I wasn’t sure what she was saying. Did she hate the paintings? Did she think I was a creep? Was I not seeing the real her?
“What’s wrong with them?” I asked, sounding like a hurt child rather than a twenty two year old man who spent the night claiming this very woman who now stared at me in shock.
Lark glanced at me then back at the sketch. “They’re all so beautiful. I don’t look like that though. You made me seem better. I mean, that’s good, but I’m surprised is all.”
The worry eased away and my shoulders relaxed. Smiling down at her, I caressed the bridge of her nose.
“You have freckles.”
“Sorry. I didn’t put on any makeup. I just saw you were gone and went looking.”
“I like them. The first girl I ever had a crush on had freckles. Now, the only girl I want to ever have a crush on again has them. I’d say I got lucky.”
Lark gave me a genuine smile. She looked at the sketch then her gaze rolled over my chest before returning to my face.
“I can’t believe you can create such beauty.”
“I can’t believe I’m finally looking at my beauty. You can’t see it, Lark. I know you can’t. Maybe it’s a girl thing or your shitty family or you do see it and are just fishing for compliments, but you are too beautiful to get right on paper. No matter how much I try,” I said, cupping her face, “I can’t make my art look nearly as perfect as you.”
“Shit,” she whispered. “Did you just think that up because it was fucking brilliant?”
Before I could answer, little Lark stepped up as far as she could on her tippy toes, pulled me down to her, and kissed me hard and deep. The girl claimed my breath like she’d already claimed my heart. No way was I imagining all of her wonderful qualities. I wasn’t that damn creative.
Chapter Twenty Three - Lark