Untouched

Chapter Nine





“Don’t you have work today, Lark?” Cade walked into her bedroom with a soda in his hand and sat on the edge of her bed.

“Nope,” she said, knocking back her energy drink and grimacing as the fizz burned in her nose. “I took the day off.” She set the can back on her desk and exited out of her game.

“Why?”

Because my boss, your sworn enemy, is a dangerous, sexy jackass who went down on me in his pickup truck, if you must know. “Because I needed it.”

“Well, shit, does that pass for a good reason to take a day off? Because I feel like I need one.”

“Cole would give you one.”


“Yeah, if I played cripple, which I won’t.”

“You’re to stubborn for your own good, Cade.” The mention of his injuries made her feel even worse, which she hadn’t imagined was possible.

How could she want something this much when she knew it was so wrong? So bad?

You are a bad girl, aren’t you?

She blocked out Quinn’s husky, sinful voice. The truth was, she wasn’t a bad girl. She was a girl whose whole life was in a bedroom in front of the computer. Because living virtually allowed her to feel like she had a life she didn’t have.

It allowed her to dabble in sex without risking anything. It let her go on adventures without being in any danger. It let her make choices and do things she would never actually do in real life for fear of the consequences.

Well, last night she’d done something in real life. It had been raw, hot, amazing, far beyond anything she’d ever imagined. And it had been a huge mistake.

How ironic that half of why she never did anything was to preserve her relationship with Cade and Cole, and when she finally did do something, it was the one thing that was almost guaranteed to blow that relationship all to hell.

“Yeah, I probably am. Amber thinks so.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She thinks I need to figure out disability or some such bullshit, but I’m not disabled.”

“You can’t do the job you used to do.”

“But I can work.”

“You don’t make what you did. And . . . and per our financials for the ranch, we’re sort of missing that income.”

“But when these contracts take off, the horses we’re breeding for the circuit . . . all that money will be back. And it’s thanks to my connections.” He shrugged. “See? Not so disabled. Anyway, I got the world’s biggest effing insurance payout, I don’t have to make what I did. And I’m not disabled.”

No, of course he wasn’t. He couldn’t hike for long distances, or ride a horse that did anything beyond a kid’s birthday party circle, or stand at all for long periods of time, but no. Not disabled. Dumb man and his male pride.

This should remind her why she hated Quinn. But she kept thinking about his claims of being innocent. And for some reason . . . she didn’t think he was lying.

“Cade.” She didn’t know what she was doing or why, but the words were coming out anyway. “The man you think . . . the man you think was responsible for your accident . . . you’re sure he did it?”

“It’s not even an accident, Lark. He did he it on purpose. And I know it was Quinn Parker, trust me. You’ve never met a meaner son of a bitch.”

“Really?” she asked, looking down at her hands. Her whole face was numb. Which was weird because she’d never been overly conscious of her face having feeling, but she felt the absence of it keenly.

“Everyone else was my friend, Lark. Quinn never said more than two words at a time to me, and when he did, they weren’t nice words. He was antisocial. He has a criminal record. Hell, nobody liked him. And they barred him from competition, so that says it all, I think.”

Her throat tightened. “I guess it does.”

Except it made her wonder which was the real Quinn. Actually, she knew what her brother said was probably true. Quinn was the kind of man who could be that way, she was sure about that.

But she also knew why. She knew he’d never felt like he fit. Knew where he’d come from.

She didn’t think that made him be kind of guy who would hurt anyone. Because while she’d seen evidence of the meanness, and of the way he could be hard and blunt, she’d never thought he would hurt her, or anyone else.

“You seem deep in thought, Lark.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking over at her energy drink can and staring at the logo on it. “I just . . .”

“Is it Tyler?”

“What?” Tyler was like a distant memory. A hurt that seemed to be a part of someone else’s life. Quinn was too large in her present; he eclipsed any feelings she’d ever had for anyone else.

“Tyler. I know you liked him, and now he married someone else.”

“I just liked him, Cade, that’s all. I didn’t love him.”

“Just checking.”

“Well, you don’t need to check. I’m fine.” She was so not fine, but there was no way she was telling him what was going on either. “I appreciate it. You checking in on me. I know you care, and that’s really . . . thank you.”

“No problem. This is all we have, right? Each other? So even though Cole is an a*shole, we have to stick together.”

Yes, they did. And that was the reason she lived the way she did. Because Cole and Cade had sacrificed so much to raise her. Even before her father died, they’d been major influences in her life. They’d driven her to events, especially Cole. Taken care of her. And deep down, she’d always been afraid that if she made things too hard on them, she’d lose them too.

And she didn’t want to lose them.

Because if she lost them, what would she have left?

“Yeah,” she said, her throat dry. “We do.”

“You know if anything’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

“I know,” she said. But she couldn’t.

“Great. Well”—he pushed up off of the bed and headed toward the bedroom door—“I have to go work. I can’t just blow it off like some people.”

“Whatever, man.”

She turned back to the computer and didn’t move until the door clicked closed behind him. And then she put her forehead on the keyboard and ignored the low level bumping noises her computer made in protest.

Why was she so determined to ruin everything? Well, not her specifically, but her body. Traitorous traitor.

“Hey, Lark . . . whoa, hey.”

“Does anyone knock anymore?” She rolled her head to the side and saw Cole standing in her open doorway, then she sat up.

“Sorry, Cade said he was just in here.”

“Yeah. He was. What?”

“Why are you . . . face. Keyboard.”

“I’m just tired.”

“I was wondering if you knew where your car was or if I have to file a police report.”

Oh, dangit. “I left it at work. I was blocked in and I got a ride home.”

“Who gave you a ride?”

“M-my boss.”

Cole arched a brow, crossing his arms across his broad chest. And there was Protective Older Brother Stance Number Three. “Nice of him,” he said, his jaw clenched tight.

“Yes, it was nice of him. As he pointed out my alternative was being eaten by wolves.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

“It was late. I didn’t get finished until late, and I didn’t want to pull you away from dinner or anything. I respect that you have a life. And I don’t have to always be all up in it. Novel concept, right?”

“I see. So why didn’t you go into work today?”

“I’m tired.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“What?” Cole was like a mothereffing bloodhound. It was hideously annoying.

“Your boss. What’s the deal with him? Why is it he gave you a ride back last night, you’re all defensive and you didn’t go to work today?”

“Nothing, Cole, gosh. My car was blocked in—nonworking tractor and a coworker who left his car. Nothing nefarious.” Except oral sex in the driveway and a huge screaming match after.


Cole looked at her hard, and she knew her cheeks were turning pink.

“At least respect me enough to know when I don’t want to tell you, Cole,” she said, her throat tightening. Because she knew she looked upset. She knew she was turning red. She knew she looked like she was hiding something. Because she was.

So she just had to try to appeal to Cole’s human side. And hope he’d developed one in the year since he’d met Kelsey.

“Lark, if anyone ever hurts you—”

“It’s more complicated than that. And I know you probably get what that means. But please don’t ask me, if you think you know, or think you don’t, but want to. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped and his hand tightened around the doorknob. “Do you remember when I offered to run Tyler out of town because I thought he’d hurt you?”

“A woman doesn’t forget the time her brother offered to kick a man’s ass for her.”

“With that in mind, you know I would gladly inflict violence on any man that hurt you. And a man who is paying you to work for him? I’m sorry, Lark, but I swear, if he touches you, I will end him.”

“He hasn’t,” she said, lying. And she knew she looked like she was lying. But it wasn’t Cole’s business. She’d asked him, pretty respectfully, to back off.

“Lark . . .”

“Cole, how old am I?”

“Twenty-two,” he said.

“So you do know that I’m not a child.”

“Lark, it’s my job to protect you.”

“Not from everything in life, Cole. I have to be allowed to live.”

He shook his head. “Living like you mean, that’s overrated. People can talk blithely about mistakes and how they made them who they are. But my first marriage? It was hell, Lark. If I could spare you mistakes like that . . .”

“If you hadn’t have had that first marriage, you wouldn’t be having your second one now. With Kelsey. Because without Shawna, you would have banked your . . . y’know. And if you didn’t do that then Kelsey wouldn’t have gotten pregnant with Maddy, and you wouldn’t have your wife or your daughter. Check. Mate. Ass. Hole.” She turned back to her computer. “Now let me make my own mistakes, or not make them, or whatever. I will neither confirm nor deny.”

“Lark,” he said, his voice rough. “Fine. You’re right. It all worked out for me. But I don’t want to see you hurt. Ever.”

“You can’t cover me in Bubble Wrap, Cole.” And the minute she said it, she felt like a hypocrite. Because wasn’t that what she did to herself? All the time?

A little virtual Bubble Wrap. To cushion her encounters and relationships. To make everything feel safe and secure.

“I know.”

“Well, then stop trying to.” That was just as much for herself as it was for him.

He nodded and backed out of her room, closing the door behind him.

“Save me from nosy brothers,” she muttered.

And from herself. She felt like she was on the edge of something. A shift, a change. In herself and in everything around her. She didn’t like it in the least.

She had spent her life playing it safe, and now her body seemed to be taking matters into its own hands. The simple fact was, when she was with Quinn, things between them exploded.

He was the first thing she’d ever wanted, really, really wanted, that she really couldn’t have. The first thing she’d ever wanted that might compromise her little cocoon of safety.

But she didn’t love him. She was just addicted to how he made her feel. And no amount of good feeling was worth compromising her family.

No matter how very good they were.


***


“So, did you see anything?”

“No,” Sam shifted his weight and glanced over at Jill, who was standing over by their truck. “Sorry, Quinn. I did keep an eye on Cade, but he seems . . . injured. He never rode more than a couple of feet, he limps, he looks like he has a lot of pain. He’s not faking anything.”

Quinn ignored the hard rock of disappointment that settled in his gut, right next to the hard rock of disappointment that had been there since last night. Since Lark had run out on him and left him unsatisfied and craving release.

He shouldn’t be disappointed. This wasn’t emotional. It was making things right. It would have been simpler if he could just prove Cade was the liar, but then, in truth, it had always been a long shot.

“Fine. So we’ll move on.”

“What else are you planning?”

He felt like his biggest chance had just slipped through his fingers, but he couldn’t leave now. He had the ranch here; the boys were coming next week. And he’d been sure—he realized it now, with a blinding flash of certainty—that Cade had just been lying.

Pointing the finger and collecting the money.

Yes, he’d told himself it was a long shot, but deep down he’d believed it was true. And now Sam was telling him it wasn’t.

A heated image flashed through his mind. Lark’s thighs spread for him, her hoarse cries of pleasure.

Yes. There was still Lark. There was still revenge. If he couldn’t make it right, he’d make it even. Or he’d use Lark to convince Cade to recant.

He ignored the voice in his head that told him Cade’s punishment was his limp. Fine, but what did it justify his stealing Quinn’s career too? Two of the biggest rodeo stars pulled out of commission over one incident.

What had happened to Cade, Quinn would never wish on anyone. But there was no reason for him to be dragged into it. He hadn’t done it. He’d paid for someone else’s sins all of his life, and he’d be damned if he’d continue.

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s a load of BS, Quinn. You know what you’re planning.”

“How about it doesn’t concern you,” Quinn said.

Sam shook his head. “I like you, Quinn. Love you like a brother, even. But I sure as hell don’t trust you half the time.”

“But you know I didn’t do this.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jill pushed away from the truck and walked toward them. “Quinn, I’ll be honest. I don’t like you a lot of the time, and even I know you didn’t do it. But Cade’s not lying. He’s hurt. He lost his career.”

“And so did I,” Quinn said. “For no reason except that Mitchell needed to point a finger. And he pointed it at me. He’s the one who brought me into it, and so whatever happens . . . it’s on his head.” He looked between Jill and Sam. “What are your plans now?”

“Do you still need me here?” Sam asked.

“Extend your stay at Elk Haven. I need you back, but not until . . . not for a while. If Lark sees you here, she’s not going to be happy.”

Jill’s expression sharpened. “What does Lark have to do with this?”

“She works for me.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “And nothing.”

“Quinn . . . If you hurt her, I swear . . .”

“Got to talking to her during your time at the ranch?”

“She’s young,” Jill said.

“She’s a grown woman.”

“Tell me you aren’t going to involve her in this.” Jill crossed her arms and stared him down, pale gray eyes filled with steel.

Quinn looked right back. And lied his ass off. “I won’t.”

“Good. Fine.”

“So you can either go back home for a while, or you can stay at Elk Haven; it’s up to you. I’m paying.”

“Elk Haven,” Sam said. “It’s been . . . nice.”

“Well, good.” Though he was a little nervous about having Jill in Lark’s proximity now. Still, with the way Sam was eyeing his wife, like she was a particularly tempting dessert, he was hoping they would be too distracted by each other to mess with what he had going with Lark.

Of course, he’d effectively screwed that up last night.

But it had felt so good. And it had felt an awful lot like self-indulgence. A lot less like revenge or seduction than he’d intended.

She’d been so sweet. So responsive. Right up until the moment she’d freaked the hell out and told him his touch disgusted her. Though that was, in its way, responsiveness. Just not the kind he enjoyed.

He’d enjoyed the kind that had come before it. Slick flesh and sweet sighs of contentment. She’d been so tight around his finger, so sweet on his tongue. He wanted more. He wanted it all.

And he wasn’t sure if she was ever going to come back and face him.

Well, he did have her car. Although she might consider the rattletrap an acceptable loss, all things considered. But then, he’d threatened to come to the ranch and collect money right from her brother, and he would do it.

Still. Regardless of what had passed between them. Yes, he was attracted to her, but she was a means to an end. Nothing more. If he got the enjoyment of getting off with her as an added bonus to the justice of getting reinstated in the circuit, then fine.

But she wasn’t the important thing here. And he had to remember that. Sam was right not to trust him. He wasn’t trustworthy. He’d never sought to be. He was bad blood, from the moment he’d been born, and it wasn’t going to change now.

There had only ever been one thing good about him. He’d only ever done one thing well. He’d been a damn good rodeo cowboy, and beyond that? He was a bastard. A man whose own mother couldn’t love him.

Everyone had known what he was the moment he’d come into the world. He might as well prove them right. He’d shock no one, disappoint no one, and get back to the only place he’d ever fit.

It seemed like it was worth the cost to him.

He pictured Lark’s face from last night. Her lips parted with pleasure, and then later, dark eyes filled with confusion as she’d walked away from him like he was standing at the mouth of hell ready to drag her in.

If anything made him question what he was doing, it was her.

Now’s hardly the time to grow a conscience, Parker.

No, it was far too late for that. And he’d come too far to go back now.