Page 37 of Wateredge

Seren shrugged and turned to Lark.

“It’s indeed unsustainable. And honestly, she already has a ton on her plate with a new business. While she is annoying, I don’t want to add more.”

Deryn was about to protest, but whatever she glimpsed on Lark’s face must’ve made her hush. Indeed, Lark knew she was about to open Pandora’s box and could not stop herself. Something about this woman, this tall, strong⁠—

“I could bake for the coffee shop,” she said and watched the twins’ expressions go from surprised to two completely different iterations of a face that on occasion looked very similar.

Deryn was trying to hide a smile by poking her tongue into her cheek. Seren was immediately apprehensive, sea-green eyes narrowing.

“In all your spare time? Is Victoria not keeping you occupied? Is helping Ceri and me not enough?” Deryn’s questions were very breezy. Very casual.

Lark pushed through despite her suddenly very dry mouth.

“She does. Of course she does. And you giving me additional ways to make more money is amazing. I’m not complaining! And I’m not trying to make Seren hire me! I’d bake for free⁠—”

Deryn’s face morphed into confusion.

“Oh, I’m not saying⁠—”

“No, no, you all have been wonderful to me. But I do have time. The mornings can be slow, the Tavern is only open for lunch and dinner, so I can bake for the Brew there. It won’t be an issue with Victoria, I mean. I’ll ask her, I’m sure she will agree⁠—”

She could feel her heart climbing higher and higher in her throat. Deryn was looking at her with something akin to panic. But it was Seren’s voice that broke through the fog of anxiety.

“Okay, we will figure it out. We will talk about it. Though you are already very busy, I will square it with Victoria so you can maybe use the Tavern’s kitchen during your hours there and combine⁠—”

“Hey, even I couldn’t use those sacred grounds!”

Deryn grasped at her shirt in mock outrage. Lark felt herself exhale harder than she actually made the conscious decision to.

“I wouldn’t let you use the Brew for your filming either. You take forever and are always in the way.”

Lark took another breath.

“I won’t be in the way,” she said quietly, and again the sisters’ faces held two contrasting expressions. Deryn’s was sly, certainly about to say something decidedly inappropriate. And Seren’s was… was it pity etched on those severe features? Lark schooled her face. Nobody pitied her. She straightened her spine, trying to make use of her whole height. And no, at five foot three, she was still about five inches too short to look Seren in the eye unless she stood on tiptoe and tilted her head, but it was not nothing.

“I will help.”

After a brief moment, during which something shifted in the hooded eyes, Seren nodded.

“Alrighty then! Showtime for our panna cotta.”

Deryn took the mixture out of the fridge, stirred it, placed it back in, and reached for the molds. To Lark’s surprise, they were adorable little teddy bears. Deryn’s smile was fond.

“They’re the ones our mother used when we were kids. You might want to get real panna cotta molds, Rennie⁠—”

“No,” Lark found herself saying. “These are cute and… Well, they’re your family history. If you want to share them with the world, I think it would make the recipe more attractive. And again… cute.” Lark stumbled through the comment as Seren turned the full force of her gaze on her. Those ocean eyes really were quite something.

“Teddy bears it is, then,” Seren said.

Deryn mumbled something suspiciously like “talk about whipped” under her breath, but Lark thought she’d probably misheard her. Seren elbowed her sister. Deryn got the thin liquid from the fridge and poured it into the molds.

“Okay, now back in the fridge for six hours. And see how I greased the molds before? Do not overdo the grease part, they will come out… well, greasy, and you don’t want sleazy teddy bears running amok around your coffee shop.” She laughed. Lark felt her own lips quirk. What did Seren call her twin? A menace? Certainly true.

It was the kitten that made Lark stay behind after Deryn unexpectedly found herself late to some meeting she did not give details about. One moment she was waxing poetical about crème fraîche, the next she was out the door with apologies, smiles, and jokes.

“She’s a whirlwind,” Lark found herself saying.

“That’s Rhiannon,” came the answer, a very quick one, as if she was being corrected, and as Lark turned to look at Seren, she caught the quickly fading narrowing of the lips, as if regretful of the choice of words.