Chapter 15BOONE #2
I want Hudson asleep down the hall from us, his baseball glove on the nightstand, his sneakers kicked off in the doorway because he never quite makes it all the way into his room before he forgets about them.
I want to be the one to drive him to practice, to help him with his swing, to teach him how to drive a damn truck.
I want to make Lark laugh.
I want her to read me poetry, the kind that makes her eyes go all soft and far away. I want to make her dinner, watch her lean against the counter while she steals bites straight from the pan, tell her to knock it off even though I love it.
And the sex—God. I want the kind that leaves you raw. The kind that doesn’t just feel good, but means something. Where every touch says more than words ever could. Where it stops being about need and starts being about knowing. Knowing someone in the way only time and pain and love can teach you.
I’ve had good sex before, but nothing like ours.
Nothing that feels like it rewires me, like it stitches me back together at the same time it unravels me.
Nothing that makes me feel known. With Lark, it’s not just about the way she feels—it’s about the way she sees me, the way I see her, and the fact that, somehow, we still fit.
I want her in my bed, on my ranch, in my life .
I want to put more babies in her. I want to run my ranch and come home to her, to Hudson, to the family I didn’t know I could have.
I want a house. A home.
I want all of it, with them.
I want every single messy, complicated, beautiful part of this.
I press one more kiss to the tips of her fingers, letting them linger there before I finally say, “If Hudson asks, we’ll just be honest. Tell him where we’re at with each other.”
Lark rolls her eyes, tilting her head slightly. “You always make everything sound so simple.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “It is simple.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling, and I don’t think she realizes that every time she looks at me like that—like she might actually believe me—I get a little closer to making her mine again.
I clear my throat. “Speaking of being honest…”
Her eyes narrow instantly, like she knows she’s not going to like whatever I say next. I almost laugh.
“Miller came to me,” I tell her. “Asked me to help look into the Bluebell.”
Lark groans dramatically and drops her head onto my chest. “Of course she did.”
I grin, running a hand up her back. “Don’t be mad at her. She only did it because she loves you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, blowing a piece of hair out of her face.
I laugh and move it for her, tucking it behind her ear. “She knew you wouldn’t come to me on your own.”
Lark lifts her head just enough to glance up at me, lips pursed. “She’s not wrong.”
“Well,” I say, grinning, “thanks to some of my training, I might actually be able to help.”
Her finger traces over the small bouquet of daisies on my arm. “Asking for help isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
I cover her hand with mine, running my thumb over her knuckles, slow and steady. “You don’t have to do everything alone, Lark,” I murmur. “ Not anymore.”
Lark presses a quick kiss to my lips—a peck, soft and fleeting. But before she can fully pull away, I cradle the back of her head and kiss her harder, deeper.
A quiet little noise escapes her throat as she melts into me, her body going pliant beneath my hands.
She parts her lips just enough for me to slip my tongue inside, teasing, coaxing, pulling her under with me.
Then, just as I’m about to deepen it, she bites down on my lower lip and sucks, dragging her teeth over the sensitive skin, and—fuck.
A groan rumbles low in my chest, my grip tightening around her.
I can feel myself getting hard again, feel the way her body shifts against mine, how ready she is for me, even now.
My arms wrap around her, pressing her tighter against me, my lips brushing against her jaw as I murmur, “I’ve got about half an hour before I have to head back to the ranch. ”
She pretends to consider her options. “Oh yeah?” she says. “What should we do with all that time?”
I grin, dragging my mouth down the slope of her neck, nipping at the spot that makes her breath hitch. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
Her fingers skate down my chest, teasing, lingering at my waist. “Yeah?” She tilts her head, eyes glinting. “Care to share?”
I shift beneath her, rolling my hips just enough to make her feel me, already hard against her thigh. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind puttin’ you through your paces,” I say, my voice rough, teasing. “Make sure you really know how to ride.”
She raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering across her face. “Did you really just say that? To me?”
I chuckle, trailing a hand down her spine. “What? You worried you can’t keep up?”
Lark scoffs, shoving at my chest as she slips out of bed. “Hold on. If we’re doing this, I need to get into character.”
I push up onto my elbow, eyes tracking her as she moves across the room—bare-ass naked, not a care in the damn world. Her long blonde hair falls in waves down her back, skimming the soft curve of her waist, her hips, her ass.
She opens the closet like she’s not killing me, flips through hangers, grabs something off the top shelf—and turns around, slipping a Stetson onto her head like it belongs there.
I freeze.
Because she’s standing there, naked as hell, in nothing but a cowboy hat—and fuck me, I don’t think I’ve ever been harder in my life.
Long legs, flushed skin, that cocky little smirk on her lips like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
She’s every goddamn cowboy fantasy that’s ever existed
Lark laughs, the sound bright and teasing, before she runs at me, her bare feet light against the hardwood.
I barely have time to register the sound of her feet before she’s back in the bed—naked, and launching herself on top of me. Her mouth is everywhere—my jaw, my neck, my lips—kissing me like she’s already decided how this is going to end.
I grip her waist, try to roll her under me, but she plants both palms on my chest and holds me there.
“Uh-uh,” she whispers against my mouth.
I lean back just enough to look at her. “No?”
She smirks, tilts the brim of the Stetson down just enough to shadow her eyes—like she’s about to ruin me all over again and knows it.
“You said you wanted to see if I could still ride,” she says, shifting her hips right over my cock, dragging a groan out of me that I don’t even try to hold back. “So sit back, cowboy—let me show you how it’s done.”
My stomach tightens, heat curling low and thick, because fuck, she’s so damn beautiful—so wild and confident and mine.
She’s straddling me with ease, her fingers dragging slow over my chest, her body warm and soft above mine.
I smirk and drag my hands up her thighs, gripping her waist. My cock’s already throbbing, my pulse pounding hard beneath my skin as I look up at her—completely bare, completely in control.
It’s hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen .
I flex my grip on her waist and grin. “Ride on, cowgirl.”
**********
By the time the sun is fully up, I’m already knee-deep in a mess.
A section of fence along the north pasture is down—snapped clean through in a storm last night—and half a dozen of our cattle took the opportunity to go wandering. The fence has to be fixed before we lose any more, and the ones that are already loose need rounding up before they get too far.
It’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before, but it’s a pain in the ass.
Covey and Walker are already on horseback, circling wide to push the cattle back toward the ranch. Ridge is beside me, dragging a fresh set of posts from the bed of the truck, his movements quick and efficient.
“Tell me why this shit always happens first thing in the morning,” he mutters, tossing me a pair of gloves.
I shove them on, my shoulders aching from the things I did last night. “Bad luck.”
He snorts, hammering a post into the dirt. “More like bad fences.”
I grunt in agreement, setting a new post into place and pulling the first strand of barbed wire taut. “Should hold for now. I’ll get a crew out here later to reinforce the rest of the line.”
Ridge nods, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Guess we should be glad they didn’t make it all the way to the highway.”
“Wouldn’t have happened if you got your ass out here earlier,” Covey calls, his horse trotting closer, a few head of cattle moving lazily in front of him.
Ridge lifts a middle finger without looking up.
I shake my head, about to say something when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I tug off a glove and pull it out, squinting at the screen.
Miller : Are you free, cowboy?
I exhale sharply, thumbs moving over the screen .
Me : Kinda tied up. What’s up?
There’s a pause, then—
Miller : Found out who the original inspector was for the Bluebell. We need to pay a visit. Then we need to go see if the first report was tampered with.
I frown, rolling my shoulders, glancing at Ridge, who’s already watching me like he knows something’s up.
Me : You can’t go do that by yourself because?
Another pause, then—
Miller : Because if I go alone, I’ll probably make a grown man cry and that just feels unnecessary this early in the day.
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Something good?” Ridge asks, lifting an eyebrow.
I rub my jaw, staring down at the message as my phone buzzes again—another text from Miller. This time, it’s an address. No explanation, no instructions. Just a dropped pin. Typical.
I lock my phone and shove it back in my pocket.
Ridge is still watching me, brow cocked. “Who’s that?”
“Miller.” I roll my shoulders, stretching out the tension. “She sent an address.”
His interest piques instantly. “Oh, shit. We about to go shake someone down or what?”
I snort. “I gotta help her with something. It’s for the Bluebell.”
Ridge leans on the fence post, crossing his arms. “Then I’m coming with you.”
I glance at him, already knowing where this is going. “No. Someone’s gotta stay here and make sure Covey doesn’t end up in a ditch somewhere.”
Ridge smirks. “Covey can handle himself. You just don’t want me coming because you know Miller won’t be able to resist my charm.”
I let out a dry laugh, picking up my gloves from where I tossed them on the fence post. “Pretty sure Miller would run your ass over before she ever fell for your charm .”
He presses a hand to his chest. “That hurts, Boone. Real deep.”
“Look, you could have any woman in Summit Springs. Hell, you could have any woman in Montana. But not Lark’s best friend. Pick someone else. Literally anyone else, Ridge.”
Ridge’s smirk fades just slightly. “Maybe I want her .”
I shoot him a look. “Christ.”
He shrugs playfully, but there’s something serious in the set of his jaw. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”
“More like a death wish.” I shake my head and grab my radio, calling for another ranch hand to take my place.
Ridge watches as I head for Lucille, still grinning. “Tell Miller I said hi.”
I shoot him a glare as I pull open the driver’s side door. “Not a damn chance.”
He barks out a laugh as I pull out onto the road, dust kicking up behind my tires.