“Quinn . . . I don’t . . .”
“Because it’s complicated, right?”
Lark swallowed hard. “Yeah. Okay, that’s a little complicated.”
“I’m sorry your parents are dead, Lark. I’m sorry you didn’t have them growing up. But mine were alive, and I didn’t have them growing up either. Not the way you should have your parents.”
“Quinn . . .” She bit the inside of her cheek and searched for words. For advice. But what advice did she have to give a man who was a) an asshole and b) more than a decade older than her? He’d lived more. Seen more. And he’d dealt with things she couldn’t even imagine dealing with.
Her parents had been so rock solid. A wonderful couple. Her father had cherished her, and her mother. Quinn’s father hadn’t really been his father. His mother hadn’t liked him because he reminded her of her sins.
And then there was all the living he’d done since leaving home—and she was still in her childhood bedroom. Yeah, anything she said would be laughable. And she wasn’t sure why she was even compelled to try.
She wasn’t sure why she cared at all. Why it made her chest ache a little bit to think about a boy born knowing he didn’t belong, and treated like he didn’t every day of his life.
I’m bad blood.
He’d said that to her once. Was that what he thought? Really? That he was born wrong? Born bad, and there was nothing else he could ever be?
“I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I was going to offer advice but it would be stupid and trite. I don’t have any. But that—it sucks, Quinn. You shouldn’t have been treated that way.”
“Sins of the father visiting the son. Or in my case, sins of the mother. That’s life, Lark. It’s my life, anyway. You did ask.” He leaned back over the table, elbows firmly planted on the surface. “And I’ve committed more than my share of sins. I’m not paying for hers anymore. And I’d rather not pay for the sins of someone else. Of whoever’s responsible for your brother’s accident.”
“So it’s back to that.”
“Yep. Because that’s the thing that I’m paying for now. I’ve done a lot of things, but I did my time. I went to jail for driving like a drunk asshole when I was sixteen, and I deserved every moment I spent behind bars for it. Went back again for stealing from a Minute Market later that same year. Just thankful I wasn’t tried as an adult either time. I’ve had more hangovers than I can count, and got the hell kicked out of me by a guy whose wife I was screwing around with. Though that was an accident. Not the screwing. I didn’t know she was married. Either way, I’ve earned a lot of consequences and taken every damn one on the chin. But I am not paying for something I didn’t do. I spent too much of my life that way already.”
He stood from the table and she stood too, vaguely aware that she’d only taken a couple bites of her sandwich. Not really caring.
“Quinn, I don’t even know what to say to that. I don’t know you. My brother is one of the best men I know. And I don’t think he would lie, ever, about something like that. He has to know. He has to.”
“I don’t pretend to be nice, Lark. I don’t pretend to be decent. So if I say I didn’t do something, trust that I didn’t. I could give you my long list of transgressions, and it’s long, but that’s not on there.”
It was hard not to believe him. Now that she felt like she knew him—which was stupid, she didn’t, they’d talked for ten minutes—it was hard not to believe he was telling the truth.
Because she genuinely believed the man standing in front of her would cross his muscular arms across his chest and admit, with defiance, that he’d done it if he had.
She pushed that thought aside and put her hands on her hips. “So, okay, you say it’s all legit, so I’m supposed to report back? Is that what all this is about?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe I’d take that. But would you give it?”
“No. I’m not going to go tell Cade I believe a stranger’s word over his.”
“Am I a stranger?”
“Yes.”
“We just ate our second meal together. I told you about my childhood. You yelled at me. We’re practically a couple.” He took a step around his chair and toward her, dark eyes trained on hers. “The only thing I haven’t done is kissed you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Would I still be a stranger if I kissed you, Lark? Or would you feel like you knew me a little better?”
“You would be punched. In the face. That’s what you would be,” she said, taking a step back.
“Would I?” He extended his hands and brushed his knuckles over her cheek, the edge of his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “Well, can’t say I’m in the mood for that.” He dropped his hand. “We’ll have to stay strangers then.”
He turned away from her and she pushed her hand, which was shaking, through her hair. “What’s your game, Quinn?”
“I’m not playing a game. I want my life back.”
And underneath those words, she heard the unspoken threat. That he would do whatever he had to in order to accomplish his end.
Good thing she was so determined not to be his means to that end. Yes, she was. That meant no sympathy, no more talking. And definitely no kissing.
Chapter Five
“I don’t know, man. Everything looks legitimate from where I’m standing.”
Quinn pressed the phone harder to his ear and listened to Sam’s voice, coming through the other end, sounding tired and a little bit ragged.
“And by that you mean . . . ?”
“He looks like hell. He looks like a guy who barely walked away from getting trampled on by an angry horse. Which I think he is.”
“You’ve only been there one day and night. Have you seen him ride?”
“No, but I don’t think he can, Quinn.”
“But you don’t know,” Quinn ground out.
“No. But I don’t how I’m supposed to be sure, if me seeing the guy limp around isn’t good enough.”
“Stay for the week.”
Sam hesitated. “All right.”
“What’s wrong with staying the week?”
“The cabin feels crowded.”
Quinn dragged his hand down his face. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. It is what it is.”
He and Sam weren’t the kind of guys who shared feelings. They shared stories about near-death experiences and which horse looked like it was in a killing mood when Quinn was drawing for an animal before competition.
This was outside their zone. Still, some lame-ass rodeo metaphor slipped out of his mouth. “You can’t finish the ride if you aren’t trying anymore.” It got quiet on the other end. “Never mind. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Sam laughed. A humorless sound. “I don’t know, Quinn, you might be more right than you think.”
“Well, stick it out if you can.”
“I can.” And Quinn didn’t know if they meant the week at Elk Haven or the marriage anymore, but he hoped Sam meant both.
“Great. Call me when you have more news.”
“Sure.”
Quinn hung up and put the phone on the counter, looking out the window at the wall of pine trees that surrounded the property and the blue mountains that rose up behind them. If Cade was telling the truth, if he was as injured as he claimed, that left Quinn without a scapegoat.
He didn’t even have a guess about who else might have done it.
And he sure as hell didn’t have evidence.
It was like losing hold of a lifeline out at sea. Watching the damn ship float away. It would have been easier this way. Easier to prove it wasn’t him. As it was, there was nothing. Just his word, which didn’t seem to be worth a pile of horse shit to anyone.
Hell, he didn’t seem to be worth a pile of horse shit to anyone. Not without the rodeo.
Damn.
He put his hands over his face and tried to scrub away the tension in his forehead. He had to figure something out, because the alternative was a life without the circuit, and that was a future he just didn’t want to face. It was one he didn’t think he could face.
No. There was a way. There had to be a way to make it all work, no matter what Sam found out about Cade.
He put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on the counter.
What, were you raised in a barn?
He lifted his head. Lark. Of course. There was a reason she was here. There had been a reason from the moment he’d first realized he could get her in his employ without her realizing it. He hadn’t connected all the dots until just that moment.
But it was obvious.
An image flashed through his mind of the way she’d looked when he’d offered to kiss her. Her dark eyes wide, lush lips looking much more tempting than he’d counted on. The entire proposition, which had been meant to goad her, much more tempting than he’d counted on.
Oh, yes, he knew what he was going to do.
He was going to seduce Lark Mitchell. He was going to make her his. And when she was his, she wouldn’t belong to Cade anymore. Oh, he might not sleep with her, but he was going to seduce her
Because Lark had pointed out something very interesting. They were all each other had. They were family.
Well, he didn’t have much of a family. He’d had the rodeo. And Cade had taken that from him as though he had every right to do it. So Quinn would take something of his. Take the most important thing—just like he’d done to him.
It wouldn’t be easy, seeing as she hated him. He’d never tried to seduce a woman who hated him before. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever had to seduce a woman before. Back in high school, women had been attracted to his money and the fact that he was a “bad boy.” In the circuit, it had basically been the same thing. The status of hooking up with the winner of an event, or a chance to slum it with a rough, dirty cowboy. Either way, women pursued him.
But Lark wouldn’t be making a move on him anytime soon. No question. She would need pursuing.
The thought ignited something in his veins. A predator’s instinct, maybe. Something old, buried in his DNA. A biological imperative. He’d never given much thought to things like that, but now, with heat, excitement, anticipation, coursing through his veins, he wondered.
Sam could keep an eye out at Elk Haven. Quinn could manage everything just fine here. He hadn’t thought he would enjoy revenge quite this much.
***
Lark made it home for dinner that night, and she tried her very best not to look shell-shocked by her earlier encounter with Quinn. It would only get Cole’s hackles up, and then he would start sniffing around, and she did not need that.
But Quinn’s offer of a kiss seemed to be on repeat in her mind, and it was making her feel all shaky and melty. She did not like it.
She didn’t like that he seemed to have burrowed under her skin, under defenses she hadn’t realized were breachable.
What was wrong with her? Maybe she needed to track down Aaron_234 again and they could get their dirty chat on. But then, now that she had the memory of what Quinn was like, in the flesh and very much real, the idea of some illicit lines of text just didn’t seem that thrilling.
She sat down at the table next to Kelsey. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi. How’s the job?”
She hoped her cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. “Great.”
Kelsey arched a brow. “Is there a guy?” she whispered.
“What?” Lark hissed.
“You turned all pink.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Luckily, Cole wasn’t paying attention to the exchange, because he was feeing Maddy, who was sitting on his lap with one hand in his dinner plate.
“Fine. There is a guy, a little. But it’s just that he’s cute. It’s not a thing.”
“Right,” Kelsey said. “I so totally believe you. Except I don’t.”
“Having a sister is overrated.”
“You don’t mean that. You love me. I’ve brought estrogen into this house. It’s tripled, thanks to me.”
“Fine, but please, don’t say anything.”
“Cole and I have a cone of trust. I don’t keep secrets from him.”
“You are the worst. You guess everything and you blab it.”
“We won’t tell Cade.”
Kelsey grunted. “That’s a relief.” In way more ways than one.
“Hope we aren’t too late.”
Lark looked up and saw a couple walk in. Guests, she assumed. In their early forties. The woman was pretty, with light blonde hair and blue eyes, and the husband was better-than-average-looking. Probably the kind of guy who looked better now, more distinguished, than he had at twenty. Tall, broad and with chiseled features.
Normally she booked guests, but thanks to the very easy computer program she’d gotten set up, even Cole could do it when he had to. As a result, Lark didn’t know the new couple.
“Not at all.” Cole smiled and gestured to the big table. “Have a seat.”
They ate family-style at the ranch. There was a smaller dining table in the kitchen for when privacy was required, but generally, the Mitchells, the employees and the guests all ate at one big long table, sharing in their cook’s amazing skills.
Meals were always loud, and Lark sort of liked it that way, because it gave her the ability to talk to Kelsey without her brothers being able to overhear. Of course, Kelsey was a self-confessed rat fink who would give her secrets up to her husband, but she wasn’t going to give Kelsey any of her real secrets.
The wife of the couple sat down next to Lark, while the husband sat across from them, next to one of the ranch hands.
“Jill.” The woman extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Lark,” she said. “Lark Mitchell. Part owner of Elk Haven Stables.”
“Oh, great. It’s nice, a family ranch like this.”
“Yeah, when it’s not claustrophobic,” she said, being perfectly honest.
“I’ll bet.” She smiled, the expression tugging at lines around her eyes.
Kelsey leaned over and introduced herself, and the three of them spent the rest of dinner having innocuous conversation about activities at the ranch. When dessert was served, Kelsey suggested the women move into the living room with coffee and their apple pie.
Lark sort of wanted to go up to her room and hide, because she felt like all of her issues were written clearly all over her face, and if Cade looked at her long enough, or hard enough, he would be able to read exactly what was going on.
Still, she didn’t want to say no. Mainly because she would feel like a jerk for bugging off, and she already felt like a jerk.
She settled onto the couch and looked out the windows at the mountain view. It was getting dark outside, the last lines of pink fading over the tops of the hills. A reminder of how much she valued her home. Her family.
“So, Jill,” Kelsey said. “Cole and I have been married for about a year. How long have you and Sam been married?”
“Twenty-three years,” Jill said, her smile looking a little strained to Lark.
“Wow,” Kelsey said. “That’s inspiring.”
Jill laughed. “Is it?”
“Well, yes, looking at you from this side of a year. Of course, I never expected to end up out here with him anyway so the whole thing still kind of blows my mind.”
“I never really expected to be here either,” Jill said, looking down into her coffee. There was something sad about her, something that even Lark picked up on—and the fine art of social interaction and recognizing nuances of human emotion wasn’t really her thing.
“Didn’t expect to be where?” Kelsey asked gently.
Jill let out a slow breath. “Just make sure you keep talking to each other, Kelsey. Stay interested. It’s funny. You live with someone for so long, they become part of everything you do. And eventually you get so used to them you stop realizing they’re there. Until one day you look up from your work, from taking the kids to all their sporting events, or whatever it is you do, and you realize this other person is still there. And that you’re not really sure who they are anymore. It sounds crazy, but . . . but it’s how it happens.” Jill took a sip of coffee. “And I didn’t mean to be a drag. I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t a drag,” Kelsey said. She had that look on her face, though. Worried and determined at the same time, which meant her sister-in-law was trying to come up with a solution. Which meant she was dangerous to be around.
Maddy let out an earsplitting wail from the dining room and Kelsey lifted her coffee mug. “I’m going to ignore that.” Lark laughed. “What? Cole can deal. He’s a good dad like that. I’m eating pie, dammit,” Kelsey grumbled.
“So is he,” Lark said.
“I’ll make it worth his while.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Spare me,” Lark said.
“Oh, right, you’re just saying that because he’s your brother. But he’s my husband, and I think he’s foxy, and I like to get it on with him. And since you’re all swoony over a guy at work right now, you are in no position to judge. Because you have fallen prey to the weakness.”
“Ah, the weakness,” Jill said. “I vaguely remember that. There’s nothing quite like the first few months of a relationship.”
“When you can’t keep your hands off each other,” Kelsey said.
“I’m not in a relationship. I’m a casual admirer of a pleasing male physique that happens to be in the same vicinity I am for several hours of the day. I don’t even like him.”
“That doesn’t always matter,” Jill said, then shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t. I didn’t like Sam when I first met him, but it didn’t stop me from thinking he was hot.”
“I wasn’t Cole’s biggest fan either.”
“I’m not looking to marry the guy,” Lark said. “I’m not looking to
anything
him. Just looking. A little casual visual objectification while I work. Better than whistling while you work, that’s for sure.”
Cole came out of the dining room holding Maddy, who was red-faced and indignant. “Hey, I’m about to put the princess to bed.” Kelsey stood. “I’ve got it,” Cole said.
Kelsey shook her head. “I’ll go up with you. Nice to meet you, Jill,” she said.
Jill nodded, and she and Lark both watched the family go upstairs. “I miss those days,” Jill said.
“When your kids were little?” Lark asked.
“That. And the beginning of our marriage. I miss new. Or if not new, then just . . . the excitement. Probably like what you feel watching your coworker.”
Lark swallowed. “Yeah. Well, he’s nice-looking, but I’m not going to act on it.”
“Why not?”
“What? Well, because . . . because.”
Jill sighed. “Marriage is long, Lark. And there are a lot of good things about it, though I have to admit I’m not in the best place with mine. But . . . there’s something special about those early feelings you have for someone. The butterflies. The way they make you feel just by looking at you. I guess . . . I’m just saying making memories for later might not be a bad thing.”
“I doubt this particular guy wants to make anything with me. Least of all memories. But . . . I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sam came out of the dining room then and gave them both a strained smile. “Ready to head back?”
Jill saw his strained smile and raised it with an obviously false one. “Sure.”
“All right, then. Good night.”
Lark watched the couple leave, then sat for a while, brooding over her pie. She was not going to make a move on Quinn. Sure, he was sexy. She could admit that. But he’d hurt Cade. And she wasn’t in any position to allow him to make her doubt that.
Her loyalty was to Cade. No matter how sad Quinn’s stories were, and no matter how hot he looked with his shirt off.
End of internal discussion.