Page 181 of At First Spark
His hand finds mine, fingers threading through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“And what’s that?” he asks.
I meet his gaze fully.
“You,” I say.
Something in his expression shifts, the steadiness there deepening into something quieter, something that feels like it’s been building under the surface for a long time.
“Good,” he says.
I huff a soft laugh. “That’s it?”
He steps closer, close enough that the rest of the world fades just slightly at the edges.
“For now.”
There’s something in the way he says it that catches my attention.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
He glances toward the porch, toward the people, toward the life unfolding around us, then back to me.
“Means I had a whole speech planned,” he admits. “But it didn’t feel like the right moment for it.”
I blink. “A speech?”
“Yeah.”
I narrow my eyes slightly. “Should I be concerned?”
“Probably.”
I try to read him.
“That’s not reassuring.”
He smiles then, a real one this time, the kind that reaches all the way through him in a way that still catches me off guard even now.
“It’s not supposed to be.”
I open my mouth to press him further, but Hadley’s voice cuts across the lawn before I can.
“Lark! You’re needed for the official ‘this place is open, and everyone can eat now’ moment!”
I glance back over my shoulder, catching her exaggerated wave from across the yard, then I look back at Holt.
He nods once. “Go.”
“You’re not getting out of that conversation,” I tell him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Later, after the speeches are done, after the food has been eaten and the music has softened into something slower, quieter, more intimate, I find him again. Or maybe he finds me.
We end up at the far edge of the property, where the lights fade into softer shadows and the party's noise becomes distant and warm. The night air is cool, carrying the scent of salt and earth and something blooming nearby.
It feels like the beginning of something.
