Chapter Thirteen
Quinn felt like the fox escorting a hen to prom. And that’s pretty much how everyone in the diner looked at him when he walked in with Lark’s fingers laced through his.
It was hard to say what had possessed him to ask her for a date. Except that he didn’t want to be the guy who just slept with her and kept her hidden. He wanted casual—hell, he needed it—but he didn’t want it to seem so much like he was just using her for sex.
Because that’s what his original plan had been. To seduce her to get revenge, to drive a wedge between her and Cade. And then he’d changed his mind, but it had all turned out just as bad. So he wanted it to seem less like that, to feel less like that.
Pancakes to salve his conscience. Though he suspected it would take more than that.
“Table for two,” Lark said. She smiled shyly at the hostess, all proud to be with him, like he was worthy of her pride.
He wasn’t.
And the citizens of Silver Creek seemed to know it. Sure, they didn’t know he had issues with her brother. But they saw young, beautiful, innocent, Lark Mitchell with the kind of guy every good girl’s mama had warned them about. A rough, older cowboy who had no business being with such a nice girl.
The thing was, Lark hadn’t had a mama long enough to take the warning, and everyone in here knew that too. Which was probably why they were watching so close. Ready to step in if need be.
Small towns were certainly more curse than blessing half the time.
The hostess raised an eyebrow. “Right this way.”
All eyes, from the counter to the little tables by the window, followed them back through the restaurant. Thankfully, they got a seat in the back, away from the überlocals who were earning nods and waves from Lark as they passed.
The hostess handed them their menus and sat them in a booth with red vinyl seats.
“Your server will be with you in a moment,” she said, giving him the steely eye as she walked back toward the front of the house.
“Is it just me, or is everyone eyeballing me?” he asked.
“Curiosity. Much like to Cole and Cade, I’m a child to all these people.”
“I’m not from a small town, but I’m from an insular social group, so I get how all that works on one level. Still, some of these men look like they might try to hurt me.”
“They won’t. They might call Cole and tell him his baby sister was out with some no-good, dusty cowboy, but they won’t personally do anything. Unless Cole asks them to.”
“Cole is a pillar of the community, huh?”
“More or less.”
“Hey, Lark.” The waitress that had approached the table was looking at Lark with disapproving blue eyes.
“Amber. I didn’t think you did breakfast.”
“I don’t usually. I’m picking up extra shifts.”
“Oh . . . So . . . Have you . . .”
“Talked to Cade recently?” She looked pointedly at Quinn, and he nearly shrank beneath that laser-sharp gaze. Amber was a tough girl, that much was obvious. “Yeah. A couple days ago.”
“I’d like the two-egg breakfast with sausage instead of judgment on the side,” Lark said, handing Amber her menu.
“I’ll have the same,” Quinn said. “But can you substitute the non-judgmental sausage for bacon?”
“Coffee with that?”
“Are you going to spit in it?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Coffee,” Lark said, her expression defiant now. “We want coffee.”
Amber turned and headed back toward the kitchen, and Quinn considered praying over his food for the first time in years.
“What’s her deal?” he asked. “Besides everyone’s general over-protective deal.”
“Amber is Cade’s best friend. She’s bound to be unhappy with me.”
“I see. Yeah, I think ‘unhappy’ is an understatement.”
“Fine for her. She can judge me. I judge her and Cade, who are so dependent on each other—platonically, mind you—that they can’t have functional adult relationships with anyone else. Yeah, I can recognize that. Which means it’s a bit screwed up.”
“It makes sense, then. That she’s looking at me like she wants to cut me.”
“I’m sure Cade told an unflattering story. And I fought with him when I went to the house to get my stuff. He makes me so mad!”
“We can talk about other things. Talking about Cade makes my face hurt.”
“Okay, so let’s talk about other things then.”
“Your move. I’m not good at this dating thing.”
“Liar,” she said, her cheeks coloring. “I’m sure you’re really good at it.”
“Because I’m good in bed?”
She turned a deeper rose, and he had to fight to keep himself from leaning over and kissing her where her blush stained her face. “Yeah.”
“That’s just sex. That’s not dating. I’m not all that experienced with dating.”
“Then why are we on one now?” she asked.
“Because. It doesn’t feel right to keep you in bed all the time. Because you deserve to go out. To have something from me other than just what happens in bed. Even if that something is just sausage.”
“You gave me sausage last night,” Lark said, wiggling her brows.
“Granted. But I thought I’d give you literal sausage this morning as a good will gesture.”
It was a poor offering, considering what he’d done to her life, to her relationship with her family. But it was pretty much the best he had to offer.
“Oh . . . well . . . I think this is pretty much my first real date.”
“Lark Mitchell, you are a scarlet woman.”
“Well, you know, I warned you.”
He laughed, and he felt it. Really felt it. With Lark, feelings seemed to come easy. Feelings that went beyond anger and resentment. It was a hell of a thing. “You did.”
Amber brought their meals to the table, and Quinn was shocked that they were hot, given the waves of frost coming off of the waitress. He was tempted to be offended. But he couldn’t manage it.
It was too good of a reminder. Of everything his being with Lark was costing her.
You’re only here for a couple more weeks. Then it’s ending. And you’re leaving her with a hell of a mess. Because you’re a bastard who dropped an innocent girl into the middle of your feud.
He ignored the sinking feeling that accompanied the thought. He knew exactly what it was—a little bit of fun. It just felt different because of her age. Because she’d been a virgin. Because she was so damn weird and funny. And because she made him laugh a lot, when very little else did.
“And I warned you,” he said, the words slipping out. For him. For her.
She blinked rapidly, her fork frozen in front of her lips, and then she nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know you did.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” She put a bite of egg in her mouth. “But also, you don’t usually have breakfast with women. And you’ve had it with me a bunch.”
“It’s just breakfast, baby,” he said, looking down at his plate and picking up a strip of bacon. And ignoring the slowly intensifying feeling that after Lark, he would never really enjoy eating breakfast again.
***
The boys were here. All fifteen of them. Some of them complete with parole officers, some with social workers. Some with concerned parents. It was a mixed bag. There were boys like Nathan, closed off, unreadable, with a rap sheet that put Quinn’s to shame.
And there boys like Mike, who hadn’t been arrested yet but whose parents feared he would go down that road.
And there was Jake. The angriest of the bunch. No parole officer, but a social worker, and, going by what he’d read before they arrive, no parents in the picture. Just an ever-rotating string of foster homes and group homes, everyone trying to find something to do with him, no one quite managing it.
Quinn surveyed the group and watched as his staff interacted with them. Or tried to. Some of them were very resistant to interaction. And Quinn related. This all looked like supreme dumbassery to kids in their position. He knew. He’d been one.
Angry at the world, desperate to fight against it.
Wow, Parker. You were one? Or you are one?
Since when was he insightful? He didn’t do insightful. He closed down his train of thought and stood back, his arms crossed.
And then Jake caught his eye, and Quinn could swear the boy paled. “You’re Quinn Parker,” he said.
“Yeah,” Quinn said, taking a step forward. “I am.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I own here,” Quinn said.
“Oh.”
“You know me from?”
“The rodeo. I . . . did some work, volunteer shit, when I was with this one family a couple years ago.”
“Volunteer shit, eh?”
Jake crossed his arms, his stance mirroring Quinn’s. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’ll probably work you a damn sight harder than they did.”
“You think?”
“Nah. I know. I’m gonna work you so hard you won’t have the energy to get into any trouble.”
“Energy is all I got,” Jake said.
“Well, that’s good. Because I’ve got a lot of work.”
***
From her position in the computer lab, Lark watched the interplay between Quinn and one of the boys. She hadn’t met any of them yet, but she’d seen them. An angry, surly bunch, and the wiry little guy Quinn was with looked the stormiest.
He was also closely copying the way Quinn stood as Quinn spoke to the small group that was outside, digging a trench for an underground drip line system. He was making good on his promise to put the boys to work, that was for sure.
And they didn’t hate him for it. Oh, she’d heard them cussing at him, and at work when she’d passed by earlier, but right now they were doing it.
Quinn would be such a good father.
The thought, so wistful, so filled with longing, sent a streak of terror through her. Because she wasn’t supposed to think of Quinn’s potential as a baby daddy. Not ever. Not even a little bit.
But something in her, some hideous, traitorous part, insisted on picturing Quinn with his shirt off, his horse tattoo on full display, cradling a tiny baby in his big hands. Of Quinn finding a new chance at a father-son relationship with a child of his own.
No. No no no. Stop it, you predictable virgin!
She couldn’t be seeing visions of a white-picket-fenced future. She couldn’t be. She knew better. She knew things weren’t going to be that way with Quinn. She knew it. She really did. In a few weeks he was going to leave.
And just thinking about it made her feel like she was going to choke on the sob that was building in her throat.
How had she gone from hating him to needing him in the space of just a few weeks? How had she gotten to the point where she’d compromised—possibly forever—the most important relationships in her life, for him?
“Stupidity,” she said, up against the window, the word bouncing back to her. “That’s what it is. It’s bloody stupid stupidity.”
She blew out a breath and left a spray of fog on the glass, then turned back to the computer lab. She was all set for her first monitored session. Some of the boys really didn’t know how to use computers, so they were going to need a lot of help getting started.
But she was ready, and excited to be a part of offering them something beyond the life they knew.
And really looking forward to thinking about something that wasn’t Quinn leaving, Quinn’s babies or having Quinn’s babies.
Half the boys, the ones not currently engaged in manual labor, filed in, followed by a couple of the male staff members. Lark made quick intros and got everyone set at a computer, then passed out papers with their personal log-in information.
She wandered around and helped with menial questions, then went to stand at the back, sitting on the counter and keeping an eye on the web surfing and all of its content.
She turned and started when she saw Sam standing in the doorway. It jarred to see him outside of Elk Haven. To see him here.
She walked over to him, and he looked at her, wide-eyed as she approached. “Hi,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Can I help you with something?”
From her conversations with Jill, she knew that they had kids, but she hadn’t heard anything about one of their children being in trouble.
“Oh no . . . I . . . I, uh . . . was looking for Quinn Parker.”
“He’s outside. Making them work. I can show you?”
“Uh . . . sure.”
She mouthed Back in five to Dave, then led Sam through the lobby area of the building and out the side door, then across the lawn to where Quinn was standing with the boys.
Quinn lifted his head and froze. “Hey, Sam,” he said.
“You know Sam?” she asked. “He was staying at Elk Haven.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What do you mean you know?”
The boys had stopped working and were watching the three of them. “Boys,” Quinn said, “this is Sam. He’s going to make sure you don’t slack.”
“I am?”
“Just for the next ten minutes or so. You should be able to handle it.”
Sam shrugged. “Sure, I can. But can they?”
“Don’t break them, Sam.” Quinn turned to her then. “Come here just for a second.”
She followed him toward the house, her heart pounding, her hands shaking, and she couldn’t for the life of her understand just why she was so nervous. Except something was weird, and she was sure it was something she wasn’t going to like.
She stopped when they rounded a corner on the bark-laden path and the boys disappeared from view. “What’s up?”
“Sam works for me.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. So . . . that’s why I know him, and it’s why he’s here.”
“For how long?” she asked, trying to process the meaning of the revelation.
“Years. I’ve known Sam since I was a punk kid.”
She felt numb. Starting at her fingertips, moving to her lips. “And it wasn’t a coincidence that he was with his wife at Elk Haven, was it?”
“No.”
“Dammit, Quinn,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “Couldn’t you have lied? A little?”
“No. Not to you. I was already hiding it.”
“What was he doing there? And please, don’t say he was poisoning the water supply or something heinous, because I will . . . I . . .”
“He was spying on Cade.”
“Why?” she asked.
“To see if his injury was real,” Quinn said, his face drawn, the lines more pronounced around his mouth.
“You could have asked me,” she said. “It’s real.”
“I know. But no one else was looking to see who might have caused the accident. No one else ever wondered who sabotaged the ride. So I had to go in and ask questions, I was the only suspect, so I had to see if I could find another one.”
“And now what?” she asked. “Now that you know it’s real?”
“I still need to get back in there, Lark. No matter what, I need to make sure I get back to the circuit. I can’t spend the rest of my life like this. Drifting. With nothing. Being nothing. I can’t do it.”
“What do you need?”
“I need him to recant his story.”
“And if he won’t?”
“I need him to.”
“So, you tell me, Quinn . . . is that what you’re using me for? Is that why I’m here?”
“No. And yes. It’s complicated.”
“Dammit, Quinn!” she shouted, shaking now. “Is that why I’m here?”
“It’s why you’re here. But it’s not why I’m sleeping with you. Obviously I didn’t contract you to come here at random. I thought I could use you to get information about your brother. I thought I could use your position at the ranch as an annoyance to him at minimum. And I thought seducing you might be the way to accomplish that. Or that . . . if you saw something in me he might change his stance.”
“Brilliant. Brilliant plan. You banging me on every available surface in your house totally made my brother your best friend. Oh, wait, no, it made my brother punch you in your face. On what planet was this a good idea?”
“I told you, that’s not why I’m sleeping with you. Because it was a terrible idea. The better I got to know you, the less I liked myself for what I’d been planning to do, and I already like myself a damn small amount, Lark.” He took his hat off and pushed his hands through his hair. “And I told myself that seducing you . . . that it was wrong. That I couldn’t do it. And I wasn’t going to. But then you came knocking on my door with your ice cream, and your body, and those eyes . . . baby, I didn’t seduce you. You seduced me.”
“I was a virgin,” she sniffed. “Virgins don’t seduce. You . . . took me. You brute.”
“Your story has changed.”
“I’m pissed at you now.”
“Enough that you want to leave?”
The way he was looking at her, those dark eyes, eyes that didn’t match anyone in his family’s, filled with . . . regret, made it hard to think about leaving him. It wasn’t hard to be mad at him. He deserved for her to be mad at him.
He deserved for her to be relationship-ending mad at him. But the thing was, she just wasn’t. Maybe because he’d told her. And he didn’t have to. Because he’d stood right there and told her the whole story.
“Why are you sleeping with me?”
“Because I can’t resist you,” he said. “Because, no matter how much my conscience burns—which, it’s news to me I have one, by the way—I can’t stop myself. I see you, and I want you. I think of you, and my body is on fire like that.” He snapped his fingers to emphasize the point. “Lark, I want you in Superman underwear and out of them. And what we have, it has nothing to do with Cade. Yeah, it started that way. But that’s not why we ended up together.”
Her throat tightened, her stomach aching. Because they hadn’t ended up together. They were sleeping together, having lots of great sex, but that wasn’t ending up together. It wasn’t feelings, love and forever. It wasn’t wedding bells and babies.
She thought back to that day at Tyler’s wedding. It had hurt, but she’d known, even then, that she hadn’t wanted wedding bells and babies.
She wanted them now though. Not in the general sense. In a very specific one. She wanted to walk down the aisle toward Quinn. She wanted to have his babies. She was a sad, predictable, lovelorn idiot.
And Kelsey was right. She’d been lying to herself, all this time. She’d thought she was fine with losing Quinn after a few weeks, thought she was accepting their affair for what it was. But deep down . . . deep down, she’d always wanted more. And secretly believed there would be
Because she loved this big rough idiot. This man who had never fit in anywhere. Who had been the worst, and then been content to let people go on believing the worst, even after he’d semi-reformed. This man who was driven by anger. A man her brother hated.
A man who would probably never love her back.
She couldn’t have made this any harder on herself if she’d tried.
“Quinn,” she said, her lips dry, numb. “I . . . what are you going to to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“To Cade. To get back in.”
“Whatever I have to do.”
“I don’t want you to hurt my family.” Even as she said that, she had an image of Cade’s fist slamming into Quinn’s jaw. “I love Cade,” she said.
“I want one thing,” he said. “That’s to get back into the circuit. I don’t want to hurt your family. But I will do what I have to do to get my place back.”
“And where do I fit?”
“You’re . . . you’re not a part of it.”
“I am though, Quinn. I am.”
He put his hat back on, his expression blank. “Then maybe you should go on home. I’ll pay you. For the rest of your contract. I really didn’t mean . . . well, I decided not to tangle you up in this, even if it was too late by the time I decided it. So I’m letting you go now.”
He turned away from her and walked down the path, back toward the boys, and she just stood there, her fingertips icy, the world unsteady beneath her feet.
Then she walked back toward the house. She walked in through the front door and saw a box sitting on the sideboard in the entry with a stack of envelopes on it.
It was from the lingerie company. To Longhorn Ranch, care of Quinn Parker. She put the envelopes on the table and picked up the box, opening it and looking inside at the neatly folded thongs, bras and negligees, wrapped in tissue paper.
She picked the box up and carried it up the stairs to Quinn’s room, sitting on the bed, staring down at all the frilly, lacy things.
When she’d ordered those, she’d felt so brave. So different. She’d felt like changing herself from the ground up, or at least changing her underwear to match the woman she felt like she was becoming.
She still liked Doctor Who, but the underwear was starting to seem silly. Maybe not for day wear. But for the times when she was with her lover. So funny, because change and instability had always terrified her, and now she felt like she was running toward change. Toward the new Lark.
Quinn wanted to get revenge on Cade. That was simplified, and she knew it. Quinn was willing to do whatever he had to in order to get himself back on the circuit, and at first, hurting Cade had been an added bonus to the whole thing.
She couldn’t ignore that. Quinn might be innocent of the accusations made against him, but Quinn wasn’t innocent. He was a man who got things done by whatever means necessary. He didn’t just want his life back—he wanted to punish her family in the process.
He wasn’t a sure bet. He wasn’t safe. He’d already dragged her out into the sun and put her on horseback. He’d been her first real sexual experience. He’d made her step away from the keyboard, stop looking at life through a screen.
He made her want touch. Skin. His lips, his hands, his body. Virtual would never be enough again.
But she had a feeling any man who wasn’t Quinn wouldn’t be enough either.
This was all scary. It would be easier to go home. To return these slutty undies to sender and get back in her comfort zone. Shooting zombies and curling up in bed alone, instead of making love, laughing and falling asleep in Quinn’s arms.
She could go back to staying away from the sun. To having nothing more than typical sibling conflict with her brothers.
She could go back to the bedroom that had become her pen. The thing that kept her safe from life’s dangers, while simultaneously keeping her from any of life’s most incredible treasures.
She could stick to cotton panties and never, ever, ever try on a thong.
Safety. It would be a run back to safety.
Lark pulled a pair of black, exceedingly sheer, underwear from the box. She stood slowly, watching them dangle from her fingertips.
Then she whipped her shirt over her head, took her bra off, tugged her pants down and put them on.
She wiggled. Good Lord, that was weird. Her butt was bare, and the little band of fabric that ran between her cheeks left her feeling more exposed than if she were naked. And also gave her the vague feeling of having a wedgie.
There was nothing safe about thongs. She and her comfort zone had officially parted ways.
Lark bent down and tugged a sheer black camisole from the box and slipped it on, looking at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall. She looked . . . not like her.
At least, not like she imagined herself. She looked like a woman. Not like a girl who would hide in her room and play games in order to keep the world from intruding.
She looked like the kind of woman who would face her relationship difficulties head-on. And who knew some seriously naughty sex moves. Who knew what she wanted.
She wanted Quinn. But with Quinn came a whole massive bag of issues and the potential for serious heartbreak.
“Well, be realistic,” she said to her reflection. “If you left now, it’s not like you wouldn’t be heartbroken.”
No, she would be broken. In every way. Cade and Cole might never forgive her. Ever. And that was a reality she hadn’t been willing to face before this moment. Because they’d always been there, so imagining a time when they wouldn’t be . . . it was too painful. But remembering the way Cade had looked at her the last time she’d seen him . . .
She might have broken that relationship past the point of fixing.
And when Quinn left, who would she have? No one. She would be alone. Alone, and she wouldn’t have the man she loved.
Oh, yeah, love. She already loved him.
There was no reason to run, because there was no reason to run to. Because if she ran, she would be running from her feelings. Running scared. She’d been scared all of her life. Of being alone, of being unloved. She was facing the possibility of both of those things now.
Of being without her brothers. Being without Quinn.
Unless she stood her ground and fought.
She was tired of being scared.
Tonight she was going to give him a serious show.
It was time to be brave.
***
Quinn had avoided the house for as long as possible. Now he had to go in and see how empty it felt.
He’d never had a woman live with him before. Somehow, he and Lark had been living together, even if it hadn’t been for long. And now he knew the house was going to feel hollowed out. Because she would be gone, and he deserved it.
He pushed the front door in and bypassed the kitchen, walking straight up the stairs, taking his hat and shirt off as he went, not caring where they landed.
His bed was going to feel big and empty tonight. He knew it. It was stupid, because he’d never liked sharing a bed. Not after the sex was over. He didn’t do the limbs-tangled-up, listening-to-each-other-breathe thing.
At least, he hadn’t before Lark.
That little geek was doing a number on him. At least, she had been. He should be thankful it was over.
He opened his bedroom door and froze.
Because the little geek wasn’t gone. She was in his room, on his bed, looking like anything but a little geek.
She was perched on the edge of the mattress, clad in black lingerie, enticing hints of pale skin beneath the dark fabric sending a rush of blood straight down below his belt buckle.
Her hair was messy, tumbled over her shoulders, and there was a fire in her dark eyes that he could feel burning through him, into him.
“Hey there, Parker. I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”
It was Lark. She might look different, but she was the same. He couldn’t even explain the flood of relief that hit him.
That she was here. That she was her.
“I had work to finish. I don’t know about you.”
“My boss told me I could leave.” She put her hands behind her and leaned back, thrusting her breasts into prominence. He could make out the faint shadow of her nipples beneath the thin fabric.
Lark in lingerie was threatening to bust his zipper. His cock was so hard it hurt. She was sexy enough in the crazy panties she normally wore. She was sexy without trying. And apparently when she threw effort behind her sexy, she was downright deadly to his health.
“Your boss is an idiot.”
“Yeah, no argument.” She stood up and he groaned, couldn’t stop himself. The faint shadow of dark hair visible through those tiny panties was was enough to send him to his knees. “Are you still planning on getting revenge on my brother? Say there’s nothing that can be done about the circuit. He won’t reverse his statements. Will you seek revenge, or do you just want vindication?”
He swallowed, his throat so dry it nearly stuck closed. “I won’t give up,” he said. “I’ll keep pushing. And pushing. If I have to make his life hell, make it so I’m not worth sticking to his guns quite so hard, I’m prepared to do it. I’m prepared to ruin him.”
“He’s ruined already, Quinn. As much as it hurts you to have lost the rodeo, it hurts him too.”
“But there’s no other option for him. If I had caused his injuries, I would deserve to share the same fate he does, but for the first time in my life I’m an innocent bystander.”
“I believe you,” she said. “And that’s why I’m still here. My brother is wrong. But so are you. I don’t want you to . . . I don’t want you to keep pursuing it all this way.”
“I don’t have another choice, Lark. And even if that means you walking out the door, even if it means me never touching you again, when I want you so much I ache, that’s the way it has to be.”
“You can’t choose me over your revenge?”
“I don’t have a damn thing to give you, baby.”
“You’re more than the rodeo, Quinn,” she said.
“I’m really not. And that’s why I can’t give up on this. It’s why I can’t choose you over revenge.”
“Fine,” she said. “Because I’m not going to ask you to.”
“What?”
“Shocking, right? I was shocked too. I was all ready to go, and then, these came in the mail. I ordered them. For you. For me, because I was tired of being embarrassed about what I was wearing to bed. You bear my eccentricities like a champ, Quinn, but god of the sack that you are, I felt you were owed recompense.” She turned. “A thong. I bought a thong.”
“Shit.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But she had the most perfect ass ever and it basically wiped out his vocabulary to see it on display like this.
She turned to face him. “It’s definitely worth it.”
“Stop . . . for a second, because . . . you want to be with me?”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t giving me an ultimatum?”
“Quinn Parker, I wish that you could let it go. I wish you thought you were enough without the rodeo. I wish you didn’t feel like you needed this. But I’m choosing to stay with you, my choice.”
“Why? Because I can’t give you anything but . . . pain.”
“And multiple orgasms. And companionship. And the feeling that I can make choices and not be so afraid of every little thing. Not be so afraid to leave my room. Do you know why I didn’t ride horses anymore, Cade?”
“Why?” he asked, his throat hoarse.
“I’m allergic to them, for a start.” She cleared her throat. “And because my mom used to ride them with me. And I was afraid of it hurting. Doing it again. Couple with the fact that a part of me is always afraid something catastrophic will happen to me. She died in an accident on the ranch. She was the bravest, toughest woman I ever knew, and she died, Quinn. Part of me, I think, has always thought she wouldn’t have died if she just hadn’t had to do everything. If she could have lived a little more quietly. So I’ve lived quietly. I’ve lived inside. I’ve lived over the computer. When I took a chance with you, I said it was because I was tired of trying to be good. But it’s more than trying to be good. It’s trying to be safe. And I’m over it. I don’t want safe. I want you.”
She walked up to him and pressed her breasts against him. He put his hand on her lower back, held her to him. “Lark . . . I’m a bad bet.”
“I know,” she said.
“You should have gone.”
“Maybe.”
“But I’m glad you stayed.”
“Me too.” She put her hands, so soft, so warm, on his chest. She bent her head down and kissed him, just above his nipple. “I made a big choice when I stayed, Quinn. Not tonight, but when Cole and Cade first came. It’s possible I made a big sacrifice.”
That hurt. Having to see how his actions had injured her. To know that his stupid revenge had had a part in compromising her relationship with her brothers. It made it hard to even look at her.
But he couldn’t look away either.
“I’m not sure I deserved that.” He sifted his fingers through her hair. “I can’t promise you anything.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“Let’s just not talk about tomorrow then. Can you do that?”
He swallowed hard. “Yes.” He wanted it. He wanted to freeze time on this moment. To keep things from moving to their inevitable conclusion. The conclusion had already been waylaid. He’d been given an extension on time with Lark that he didn’t deserve.
She was offering him something incredible, and he was offering her nothing. Nothing but more sex while he changed absolutely nothing about his plans.
He shut all that out. He shut everything out but Lark in her lingerie. Lingerie she’d ordered for him. She was his. That thought, it ran so far beneath the skin; created a feeling so bone deep he couldn’t deny it. It was so possessive, so proprietary, and it shocked him. Disgusted him. And yet it didn’t make it go away.
He didn’t deserve to have her. Didn’t deserve anything she’d given him. And yet he reveled in the fact that he did have her. That she was staying. That he was the only man who’d ever touched her.
The only man who’d ever been inside her.
That he was the man she’d chosen, even if she’d chosen him knowing he’d be a mistake.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice a growl as he pulled her more tightly against him. “Only mine.”
“Yes,” she said.
He lowered his head and traced the edge of her camisole with his tongue, before tugging the top down and revealing her breasts. “The best part about things like this is taking them off,” he said. He ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple, then blew lightly against her skin, watching it tighten, watching goose bumps break out over her pale skin. “You are so beautiful.”
“I never thought so,” she said.
“No?”
“Not before you. But you make me feel beautiful. You make me believe it.”
“Oh, you’d better believe it. You make me so hard. I haven’t felt so on edge . . . I was going to say since I was a teenager, but not even then. I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want you. You make me forget them.”
“Who?”
“The other women. I don’t even want to remember. Your skin is the only taste I want on my tongue.”
“Bringing up other women during sex is sort of dangerous there, Quinn.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her breast. “But as I said you were only mine, I wished that I was only yours.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “It’s good enough that you’re mine now.” She slid her hand down his chest, fingers skimming his abs, moving down lower and covering his erection, her touch burning him even through his jeans. “You’re mine.”
“Yes,” he said, because he could say nothing else. It was true. She held him in the palm of her hand in every way.
She moved her hand slowly, squeezing him, her eyes intent on his. “I love this,” she said. “I could never get tired of it.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
She blinked, leaning in and burying her face against his neck, her lips warm on his skin. “I’m glad.”
She moved away from him and got into bed. He followed, kissing her, deep, long. Until they were lying together, her body half on top of his, her hands roaming over him. There was something perfect about it. About kissing her when they were both half naked, just kissing and touching, not in a hurry to take it further.
It was a step he’d skipped in his sexual discovery, and it was one she’d skipped in hers, thanks to him.
But it didn’t take long for the fire to burn too hot, the flames beneath his skin too intense. He needed release. He needed more. He needed her.
As if on cue, she put her hands on his belt and undid the buckle, working on his jeans next. He tugged them down while she took the rest of her naughty lingerie off. And then they were skin to skin.
She kissed his jaw, his neck, his chest, her tongue tracing a line down his stomach and to his shaft.
“Lark.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pleasure shooting through him, pushing him to the brink. “Too good,” he said.
“Mmm . . . good.”
“Not fair,” he said.
“Why no—whoa!” He gripped her hips and hauled her up, adjusting her so her thighs were on either side of his head and he had her right where he wanted.
“Equal opportunity,” he said, sliding his tongue along her slick flesh.
She moaned, sending a vibration from her lips over his shaft. It was all perfect. Lark’s mouth on him, and her, the taste of her, coating his tongue. And every time he pleasured her right, she made a little sound that added to his own pleasure.
He slipped a finger inside of her and she lifted her head, a shocked gasp on her lips. He didn’t even mind that she’d stopped. He was too focused on her now. On how tight and hot she was. On every sound she made. On the way she moved her hips, trying to show him her rhythm. On how perfect she was.
She stiffened, her muscles spasming around his finger. But the best part was when she said his name. A prayer and a curse all rolled into one.
He changed their positions, resting between her thighs, kissing her lips as he reached into the nightstand drawer for protection.
“I don’t think I have the energy to come again,” she said.
“You will.”
He rolled the condom on and slid inside her welcoming body, gritting his teeth as pleasure overwhelmed him. Raw, intense. He was already close to the edge, and this was almost too much to take.
But he’d promised her another orgasm, and he was going to deliver. Then she curled her fingers around his neck and whispered in his ear.
“Yes, Quinn. Like that. Oh, yes.”
And there was no more tactical thought. No more measured thrusts. It was nothing but a blind, furious race to the finish as he lost himself in her body. He was surrounded by her. Her scent, her warmth. Lark.
He had a dim moment of thankfulness when he felt her arch beneath him, felt her give in to another climax, as his own roared through his ears like a hurricane, consuming him completely.
When it was over, she was holding him, her hands moving over his hair, like she was soothing him.
And he rolled to the side, the condom necessitating his withdrawal from her body, but he didn’t get up. He just stayed with her, his arms wrapped around her, one leg tangled through hers.
She kissed his shoulder, fingers now tracing circles over his bicep. “Tell me about the horse.” He looked down and followed the line of her hands as she continued to move her hands over his skin.
“I told you. Because of the rodeo.”
“But he’s not just a rodeo horse. He’s like a war horse. He’s angry.”
He cleared his throat. He didn’t think much about the tattoo. It was just there. Another thing he’d done to his body, in a long list of things, that had either been stupid or a waste. He liked to pretend it hadn’t meant anything. But it had. Even then.
“I got it right after I went to find my dad. It was stupid.”
“You’re the horse.”
“Yeah, and no dick jokes please.”
“Because that’s where I was going with this very serious conversation.”
“Nah, I know. But I’m allergic to sincerity.” Especially when it was about him. About old wounds. Anger was easier. That was why the horse was angry. To remind him to be mad. Mad at his dad. Mad at the world. It was easier than feeling anything else.
“Did you ever think about letting the anger go?” she asked.
“How?”
“I don’t know, Quinn. But maybe someday . . . maybe someday you’ll be able to feel something else that will be big enough to push it all out.”
He looked down at Lark and he felt something bloom in his chest. Something warm, incredible. And terrifying. Really terrifying. Something that had the power to do just what she’d said.
Unless the anger won. With him, why would he ever think anything else could happen? Bad blood. And just like always, all that anger, everything that was wrong inside of him, would poison the people around him.
Would poison Lark.
The idea grabbed him around his heart and squeezed tight.
“Not me, baby,” he said, a response to her statement—and also a plea. That she would remember what he was capable of. That she wouldn’t want more. More than he could give.
“Probably not, while you’re hanging on to it so tight,” she said, her voice getting sleepy. “You’ll have to let go.”
He looked down and her eyes were closed. And he held tight to her.
Let go? The anger was his drive. It always had been. And it wasn’t that simple anymore.
It was a part of him now. Integral. It was the thing that fueled him. The thing that sustained him. No, nothing better would ever be able to grow inside of him. It would be choked out the minute it appeared.
He had to hold on to it. But for now, he would hold on to her too.