Chapter 28
Lark
After we leave the town of horrors, we’re nearing Infinity Ridge faster than I hoped.
I wish I could slow time. I wish I could make the seconds take longer, give us a chance to have more of this—the hand-holding, the kisses in public, the smiles and laughter without having to meet in secret.
I hate each mile passed. Each second gone. Every moment we are losing.
I reach my hand across the console and take his.
He looks over, smiles, and squeezes. “I had a great trip.”
“I did too.”
“Maybe we can figure out a way to do it again.”
I nod, hating the stupid flare of hope that lights my soul. I want a lot of agains. “I’d like that.”
“Me too, sweetheart. I liked having you in a bed.”
I laugh once. “That’s your takeaway?”
“The shower was good too.”
I roll my eyes. Such a guy answer. However, both were pretty damn amazing. “I thought the hot tub was the crown jewel.”
“I think you just like being outside.”
That is definitely not the case, but I can see why he’d think that. “I’m not so sure the bugs are my favorite, but it was more familiar.”
He lifts our entwined hands and kisses the back of mine. “I think after this weekend, we’re very familiar in a variety of ways.”
There are no lies detected there. We were overly familiar. The sheer intimacy that was built in just a day is kind of crazy. It felt like we were a couple. Hell, we looked like it too. At dinner, someone came up to tell us how cute we were. Which we totally are.
“But now we’re going to go back to pretending we hate each other,” I say, and even I can hear the sadness there.
“Lark…”
“No, don’t say anything. I know all the millions of reasons why. We’ve listed them ad nauseam already. I’m just saying it’s the way it is.”
I can’t even be mad at it all, because it’s mostly my fault that we have to be so secretive. Sure, his family doesn’t particularly like mine, but it’s my brothers and father who are hell-bent on making the Stones pay for whatever they feel they’re owed.
The constant calling of the cops. The never-ending amount of shit talking they do to anyone who will listen.
The town is divided, and we’re the ones driving the wedge further.
“I get it,” he says with understanding. “I’m going to pull in here and get gas. We’re still far enough out of town that it’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll get snacks.”
Tristan pulls into the gas station and finds a pump. We both jump out, and I get about halfway to the door when he calls, “Lark?”
“Yeah?”
“Get me a Kit Kat.”
I grin. “Sure thing, cowboy.”
I turn.
He whistles.
I turn my head to see him over my shoulder.
He winks.
I melt.
Damn, he’s so freaking irresistible when he does that.
With flushed cheeks and a fire in my belly, I head inside.
I grab the snacks to make the rest of the three-hour drive back to Infinity Ridge.
Chocolate, soda, water, chips, and a protein bar because there should at least be a semi-healthy option.
Tristan is still pumping gas, and an overwhelming desire to kiss him hits me.
I rush toward him, and he has just enough time to turn and catch me as I jump into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.
He turns me, pushing my back against the cool truck door, and kisses me a little deeper.
He pulls back much too soon for me—but then, considering we’re at a gas station, I don’t know what I was hoping for—and grins.
“What was that for?”
I boop his nose. “For being you. For this weekend.”
Tristan lets out a low chuckle and puts me back down. “If that’s the appreciation I get, I’m going to have to manufacture a sale every week.”
“I’m happy to inspire your business goals.”
He slaps my ass playfully. “Get in the truck and don’t eat my candy.”
“I make no promises,” I say and then climb in.
When I get in, I rifle through the bag, looking for my candy bar, and just as I lean to yell out the window, my heart stops.
Every nerve in my body tenses as I sink to the floorboard to avoid being seen.
Although I think she did see me.
There, exiting the gas station store, is my mother’s best friend, Mrs. Canta.
She’s known me my entire life. She is the biggest freaking busybody this town has ever known, and I swear she just saw me.
Oh my God. She had to have seen me.
She had to, and I’m going to be so screwed.
There’s no way she’s not going to tell my mother and every other person in Infinity Ridge.
This is…a fucking nightmare.
What feels like two hours later, Tristan opens his door, looks down at me on the floor of the truck, and scrunches his brows. “What are you doing?”
“Drive. Now. Leave. Right now. Tristan, go,” I say, the panic clear in each word.
He looks around to see what has me nearing a full-fledged panic attack, and then it clicks.
He puts the truck in drive, pulls his baseball hat on, and heads onto the road.
After a few seconds, he glances down. “Come on up.”
With shaking hands, I manage to climb back into my seat. “She saw me,” I nearly cry.
“You don’t know that. She didn’t even look at me, and if she saw you or thought she did, she would’ve come over.”
“Tristan, that woman knows me. She saw me. I looked right at her,” I say, my hands covering my face. “This is it. It’s all over for us.”
“Relax, Lark. I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Fine?” I shriek. “Fine? Are you insane? Nothing is fine about this! I’m going to be filleted by my father and brothers!”
“For what? Going to get gas?”
I stare at him, blinking slowly and trying to come up with words that won’t invoke a massive fight.
“You idiot! I ran and kissed you!”
“She wasn’t outside, was she?”
Again, the stupidity that men possess. “There are these magical things lining the entirety of the store called windows, Tristan!”
“And let me remind you again, she might not have seen anything. Relax, Lark. It’ll be fine.
No one saw us. No one is going to say anything.
She’s old, and if she did happen to look out the window, I’m sure she thought her mind was playing tricks on her.
Why would you be anywhere in this area, let alone with me? ”
Yes, why would I? Which is the exact question that Mrs. Canta is going to ask, and my mother is going to then kill me, because I don’t know that I’ll be able to lie right to her face.
This is a disaster.
A complete and total nuclear meltdown.
Tristan sighs, removing his hat and tossing it back. “Can you hand me the Kit Kat?”
My jaw drops. “How can you think about food?”
He glances over. “Because I’m hungry.”
“You’re not worried about us being caught?”
His fingers slide through his thick hair. “Nope. We weren’t caught. You’re freaking out for nothing. It’s not a big deal.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one who is going to have to deal with my family!”
“You’re not, either, because no one saw us.”
“You don’t get it. If she saw us, and if she tells my mother, there will be no going back. My family will kill me. Maybe not literally, but I’ll be shunned. They’ll never forgive me. They’ll never understand, and…this is…”
Tristan reaches over, taking my hand. “A moot point, Lark. Just relax, and we’ll deal with it if it comes to that, okay?”
Deal with it how? He and I are never going to be together. What’s he going to do? Deny us being together? Well, if someone saw us, a lot of good that’ll do. I’ll be on my own dealing with it.
I look out the window, feeling the pain of a hundred possibilities slice through me. I could walk away now, leave him behind and never see him again. That might be the best idea, but the one that will hurt the most. I refuse to do it. Not yet. Not after what we’ve shared.
Another option is to lie to everyone.
I turn my gaze back to Tristan, to his strong jawline, beautiful face, and perfect nose. His warm eyes meet mine.
That’s the only option for me, if word gets out. To lie, keep him as long as I can, and pray we are never caught, so I don’t have to give him up.
“Okay,” I say, and rest my head on his arm, holding the tears at bay.
“Can you go in the other aisle and grab snack options for Carter? I need to get some produce, and I saw Claribel bringing in her bushels,” Momma says.
Claribel is my mother’s favorite produce vendor. She definitely won’t want to miss getting first dibs.
“Sure thing.”
The last two days have passed by without incident. When I first got back, I literally felt like I was on the edge of a cliff. Each time the phone rang, I worried it was Mrs. Canta, calling to tell my mother she saw me kissing some guy, and that guy happened to be a Stone.
I didn’t realize just how much it was making me sick until this morning, when she did call.
I answered, and she was her normal, talkative, and inquisitive self, but she didn’t say a word about Tristan or ask if I was in Utah when she was.
The breath of relief I let out was probably heard across town.
We weren’t caught.
Now my whole family’s in preparation mode for Carter to come for a visit. Which is a whole other type of stress.
I’m in the grocery store’s snack aisle, looking for options, not having a clue what the hell he likes. What does someone who hates everything, thinks this town is dumb, and believes he’s smarter than all of us put together eat?
“Stay away from my niece,” I hear a feminine voice, cold as ice, say from beside me.
I glance up, confused at who the hell could be saying some stupid shit to me, and then I see who. Well, there goes my day. “Hello, Fallon. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, fuck right off, Lark. Stay away from Sadie.”
I sigh and clear my throat. “I literally don’t know what you’re insinuating. I’m not doing anything to Sadie. I barely speak to her.”
Now, if we were talking about Tristan, that would be a better argument. When it comes to Sadie, I’m not doing anything wrong.
“Clearly that’s a lie. Enough that my father is out there rebuilding a damn chicken coop, adding lights and wallpaper. So you’re obviously filling her head with things.”
That’s so far from the truth. I would never do anything to Sadie. I really like her, and I’m falling—well, I’ve already fallen—for her father. The idea of ever hurting a child is ridiculous. I understand why Fallon hates us, but this is really unfair.
“Look, I would never hurt Sadie.”
She laughs once. “Please. You forget who I am, don’t you?”
I know exactly who she is. I know exactly why she’s standing here, spewing her hate at me. It’s not completely unwarranted, but at the same time, it’s misguided.
“No, but I think you’re forgetting who I am in all of this too. Mary Lou is my best friend. I loved Emmy Jo, and I would never, ever do anything to Sadie.”
Fallon scoffs. “Let’s not play games here. You and your family destroy things. That’s what you do. I will not lose my niece to…to a Gatlin.”
I’m not exactly sure how she’s making this leap, but I work really hard to control my anger at being yelled at in the damn grocery store.
“I’m not my brother,” I say without any waver in my voice.
At the mention of Maverick, her entire body stiffens. “It doesn’t matter.”
“That’s not fair. I understand why you hate him, and there’s a reason none of us talk to him, either, but…I’m not him. Sadie is sweet and a child. Say what you want about my brother. He deserves your hate, but I don’t, and neither does my family.”
I promised the same thing to Tristan, and I mean it. I may be the enemy or whatever to them, but I wasn’t to Emmy Jo. She was like a sister to me in some ways. I wouldn’t do anything to her child. Not that I would ever intentionally hurt anyone, but that’s beside the point.
My worry now is that my mother will overhear any of this. There’s a reason we don’t discuss Maverick around her. It literally eats her alive.
“Save your shit for someone else. Stay away from her. She’s already lost so much, and my brother has lost even more. She has her aunts, her father, her family, and she doesn’t need to be talking to you at the fence posts.”
I could rage at her, tell her all the things about how unfair and ridiculous this entire conversation is, but it doesn’t matter. Fallon has been hurt, and that’s what this is: her fear, anger, and frustration at the situation she’s in. I get it.
Instead, I take a different route. One that can maybe start to build a bridge. One that might be able to mend the hurt our two families have faced.
I place the box of crackers back on the shelf and turn to her.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.
I’m sorry that it was because of my brother.
I’m sorry that your life has been so deeply affected.
I wish I could change things. That I could bring Carrick back or go back in time and alter the decisions that Maverick made. I’m truly sorry.”
Fallon doesn’t seem to know how to react. She opens and closes her mouth two or three times before she finally speaks. “You’re sorry?”
“I am. I know I wasn’t the one who committed the crime, but I’m still sorry that someone in my family caused you that hurt.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want or need your apology. I need you to stay away from my family so that I don’t have to lose another person I love. If you’re so sorry, find your fucking brother and make him face the consequences. Until then, just fuck off.”
Fallon leaves the aisle, and I stare after her as a single tear rolls down my cheek.