Chapter 8
Lark
Do not panic.
Do not look back.
Just breathe, Lark.
I repeat that over and over as I keep moving through the next two cowboys until the song finally ends.
Suzanne rushes over, grabbing my hands in hers. “Oh my God, you had to dance with Tristan!” she freaking yells. Seriously, like the entire bar could hear.
“Shut up,” I whisper. “I’m aware.”
“Was it horrible? I bet it was.” She lifts my hands up.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if the Devil burned you. Somehow you guys survived helping at the store, but this was a dance!”
I roll my eyes. “Stop it. You’re as bad as my brothers. It was a barn dance that I had no control over. Relax.”
She laughs. “Speaking of your brothers…”
Ryan and Deacon walk over, both looking furious. “You danced with him?”
Dear God. One would think they’d tire of this shit. “I didn’t know you both watch me so much.”
“We do.”
“Lucky me.”
Deacon snorts. “You’re damn right you’re lucky, Lark. You should’ve skipped him.”
“Let’s just grow up for a minute, please.”
Skip him. Please, the last thing I wanted to do was skip him. I wanted to scream at him to look at me. To take me in his arms and kiss me. To get us out of here and do much more.
Which was the tequila talking, and thankfully it was all in my head and not out loud.
But, yeah, there was no chance of me skipping a chance to dance with Tristan.
Seeing him here was completely unexpected, and after our last encounter, I was hoping for more time to get over these stupid feelings I keep having for him.
A month or two isn’t too much to ask. I went six months before seeing him on the side of the road—I don’t know what a girl has to do to get a stretch like that again.
A cooling-off period.
One where I can get my head straight and not think of his brown eyes, that thick dark hair that he pushes back before slipping his hat on, and that fucking scruff. God, I’d like to ride that.
Ugh.
Not what you should be thinking about, Lark.
Ryan shakes his head. “I get that he was nice to you—once—but that doesn’t erase the years of horrible shit they’ve done.”
Considering I already stepped in it with Ryan, reminding him of his own mistakes, I let that go and do my best to look contrite. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll skip him.”
Deacon huffs out a long sigh and then clasps Ryan’s shoulder. “Come on. We got shit to do early tomorrow. I don’t feel like hanging out anymore.”
Which is Deacon talk for…I’m not mature enough to be in the same room as a Stone.
Ridiculous.
Ryan looks to Suzanne. “You got her?”
Suzanne grins. “Of course.”
They both leave, and she turns to me. “Wow.”
“Yeah, way to help the situation,” I grumble.
“What did you want me to do?”
“I don’t know, distract them or something.”
She laughs. “Your brother is a professional at pretending I don’t exist.”
“Yes, because he’s in love with you,” I remind her.
“Whatever. He has a horrible way of showing it,” Suzanne says, staring after their retreating forms.
She’s loved him just as long, but the two of them refuse to make a move. It’s honestly one of the most frustrating things I’ve ever watched. At this point, though, I’m done encouraging them. They’re adults—they can figure it out.
I glance around, pretending that I’m not looking for Tristan, but I don’t see him anywhere.
“Let’s get a drink,” I suggest. Maybe it’ll help clear my head.
One drink turns into six, because the one thing my best friends do not have is restraint. So the three of us laugh, spin each other around on the dance floor, and continue to toss back various types of liquor.
“We’re going to be so sick,” Mary Lou says with a snort. “Like, fuck-my-life kind of sick.”
I laugh as she turns me, since I forgot that part of the dance. “I can’t feel my tongue.”
“Oh God.” Suzanne snorts a laugh. “Let’s…sit and get water.”
“Water is good,” Mary Lou agrees.
She’s right, but that’s not what I say. “Tequila is better!”
We each grab hands, making a train and heading back to the table, overcome with a fit of giggles, but we don’t fall.
That’s a plus.
We each chug a bottle of water and then look around at the thinned-out crowd. It’s late. We’ve been drinking all night, and we probably should’ve had a better plan, but when Mary Lou showed back up in Infinity Ridge earlier today, the only plan was a night out.
Lord knows I’ve needed it.
Now I need my bed.
Sleep…yes, that would be good. Dreams of horses or that one guy who asked me to dance a few songs ago—that would be preferable.
Not dreaming of another cowboy who caused my heart to race.
He’s not for me.
I go to drink more water, but it’s empty. “Crap,” I mutter. “I drank it all.”
Suzanne hands me hers. “Here, you can drink this.”
I lift it up, but there’s nothing in there either. “Empty.”
“Whomp, whomp,” Mary Lou says and then laughs.
Someone clears their throat, and I glance over to see a very tall drink of water—or maybe even something a little spicier—staring down at me.
“Hello,” his gravelly voice says.
“Hello to you.”
He smiles, and my heart sputters a little. Stupid alcohol. He’s cute. Light brown hair, deep blue eyes, and perfect teeth. Which I like.
Teeth are a big thing.
He’s not as built as Tristan.
I stop that thought right in its tracks. I am not comparing men to him.
No.
Not just no—hell no.
“Would you like to dance?” the handsome stranger asks.
Suzanne and Mary Lou giggle. I nod slightly. “Sure, I’d love to.”
He extends his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me toward the dance floor. It’s a slow dance—of course it is. When he asked, it was a couples’ line dance that I could do with my eyes closed and several drinks down, but now I have no choice but to be close to him.
I don’t know why my mind has decided this is a bad thing.
However, I let him pull me against him, my hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest. He smells good, so there’s that.
I smile up at him. “I’m Lark, by the way.”
“I know who you are,” he says with a smile.
“You do?”
“Everyone knows you. Your family is a big deal in Infinity Ridge.”
This was true at a time when we were selling more horses than we could keep and weren’t ass up in debt, but I’m not going to correct him. “Seems you have me at a disadvantage then. I don’t know who you are.”
I really hope that’s the case and I don’t actually know him—not that Jose Cuervo has made me forget him.
Speaking of Jose. I wonder whether I should do another round. Sounds like a good idea.
He clears his throat, and I glance back up. He smiles. “I’m CJ.”
Not ringing any bells. “Have we met before?”
“No.”
That’s a relief. He turns me slowly, our feet moving to the song in a steady rhythm.
“Then it’s nice to meet you. Are you from here?”
“No, I grew up in Nevada, came out here to work on the Caulier ranch.”
The Caulier ranch is huge. It’s by far the largest, and they have a ton of cattle, sheep, and other livestock. There is always a steady stream of ranch hands going in and out of there.
“Well, welcome to town.”
He smiles brightly, his hand moving up my back slowly. “Thank you.”
I shift slightly, not loving how close he’s pulled me to him. I try to step back a little to look into his eyes. “How long have you been here?”
“Just about a month.”
“And are you liking it?” I ask.
“Much more lately.” CJ moves his head to be against my ear. “Much more right now.”
An uncomfortable shiver runs through me, but CJ doesn’t seem to catch on, and his other hand moves lower, resting right above my ass.
I really, really want this damn song to end.
I’ve met a lot of guys like him. New in town, just wanting to sleep with a local girl and hopefully get a job on her family’s farm, then screw her over, leave town—and a mess in his wake. I’m not stupid, and I don’t play that game.
My hand on his chest gives me a little leverage, and I’m able to create some distance, but CJ forces us closer again.
“You’re beautiful. So much prettier than any girl here,” he says low, pulling me tighter to him, where I can’t break away without causing a scene.
I look over his shoulder and my eyes find Tristan’s. His gaze is intense, and I swear, even from this distance I can see his anger boiling.
We turn, causing me to lose the connection, and then a few seconds later I hear his voice.
“Can I cut in?”
CJ steps back, looking at Tristan, and chuckles. “Sorry, bro. You’ll have to wait.”
Tristan stares at me. “Lark?”
I nod. “Yes, that would be fine. Thank you, CJ.”
Tristan doesn’t wait another moment. He pushes between CJ and me, taking control, and then I have both hands on his chest.
There is a short stare-down between Tristan and CJ, but ultimately CJ takes the hint and leaves.
I exhale, feeling safe in the arms of a man I shouldn’t.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“You looked uncomfortable.” Tristan’s deep voice instantly sets me at ease. And that’s ridiculous.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly.
The song ends, and he walks me back over to the table where my two best friends and Jimmy are standing, staring at us with varying expressions of confusion and surprise.
“You girls should head out,” Tristan says when we get there.
Suzanne blinks, and then Mary Lou shakes her head. “We should, but we just bought another round.”
I plop down in my chair, my legs feeling like they can no longer hold my weight. Between the handsy guy and then having a fifteen-second slow dance with Tristan—I’m overloaded.
And I can feel the way his strong arms protected me. The anger in his voice at the idea of my discomfort.
Jimmy coughs a laugh. “As much as I hate to say it, I think Tristan is right. You guys are a bit tanked, and the guys here are all a bunch of assholes. Why don’t we all head out?”
“Oh, Officer Langston, we’ll only go if you promise to put us under arrest.” Suzanne lifts her wrists in front of her with more excitement than she’s shown all night.
“For what?”
She shrugs. “Public endoscopy.”
I laugh. “You mean infrequency!”
Mary Lou shakes her head. “No, no, she means illegally.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” I ask, my head resting on my fist. “Being illegal.”
“Not yet,” Jimmy says with a brow raised. “How are you three getting home?”
I look to Mary Lou and Suzanne. “Aww crap.”
The two of them laugh. “We didn’t pick straws.”
Maybe we did. I think we did. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be the sober one. “Oops, I drank.”
Mary Lou burps and then covers her mouth. “That wasn’t me.”
“It so was,” Suzanne says with a giggle and then drops her head to the table. “Ouch. That table is hard.”
Jimmy lets out a deep sigh. “I’ll drive you all home.”
“Will you cuff us first?” Suzanne again.
“What’s with you and the cuffs?”
Just then, the deep, sexy voice that haunts me says, “I’ll drive Lark. She’s on my way. Mary Lou and Suzanne are on the other side of town, where you’re heading anyway.”
Oh. No. God, this can’t be. I can’t do another car ride with Tristan—especially not drunk.