Chapter 24
Lark
“All right, the game is called Go Fish,” I say, pulling the cards from my bag, tossing them onto the blanket as the fire roars beside us on the ridge.
“Really?” he asks, lying with his head resting on his arm.
God, he looks hot.
I really wish he didn’t, but he has that just-fucked look from my fingers running through his hair, messing it up as I held on while he brought me to my last orgasm. Tristan’s lips are a little swollen from where I kissed the life out of him.
All of it is very, very sexy.
“Yes, really. It’s a very easy game—you might even be able to comprehend the rules.” I sit up straight and shuffle. “Now I think we can complicate it just a little bit and make it five cards instead of seven.”
Tristan rolls his eyes. “Yes, let’s make it interesting.”
I give him a saucy grin. “Interesting? How so?”
“Loser gets to make the other do something.”
“Sexual?” I ask.
I mean, I’m not opposed to it.
Tristan leans in, hand resting on the deck of cards. “No, sweetheart. I think we can get more creative than that. It can be sexual, but I was thinking more of a…retribution type thing.”
“What the hell do I need retribution for?”
“Calling me an ass might be one.”
I laugh softly. “You are an ass.”
“I like your ass.”
I have a great ass. Not that I’m conceited or anything, but it’s the one part of my body I’m actually really impressed with.
I lean in and kiss him. “For that compliment, I’ll make sure mine is sexual and you’ll like it.”
Tristan leans back. “Be forewarned, mine will not be.”
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to win.”
One of my family’s favorite activities is card games. I’m very good at them. My brothers are known for cheating whenever they can, so I’ve had to learn how to not only catch them but beat them.
This is going to be super fun—for me.
I shuffle again and then hand the cards to him. “Here, you deal so I can’t be accused of cheating.”
Tristan chuckles but takes the deck. He deals us each five cards, and I have nothing matching, so I go for a random card to start. “Do you have any sixes?”
“Go fish.”
I draw a card, and it’s not a six. “Your turn.”
Tristan studies me. “Do you have any queens?”
Damn it. I do have one. I sigh, pulling the queen out of my hand. “Here you are.”
He smiles. “Thank you. My turn again, right?”
“Yes,” I say a little testily, but I don’t like losing.
“Do you have any threes?”
What the fuck? How? “Are you cheating?” I ask.
“How the hell would I be cheating? I dealt the cards you shuffled, and you watched me deal. You have a three?” Tristan looks absolutely gleeful as he takes my outstretched card. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I murmur, making fun of him as I do it. “Jerk.”
“How the hell am I a jerk for playing the game you wanted to play?”
“Just shut up and take your next turn.”
His deep laugh rolls through me. At least one of us is enjoying this so far. “Do you have any fours?”
“Ha! Go fish!” I’m just a little too excited, and Tristan tilts his head to study me. “What? I’m just happy you’re fishing.”
Not that he wasn’t going to be anyway, since we have only five cards.
The game goes on, and Tristan is kicking my ass. I mean, stomping me. Each time I get close to a set, he somehow manages to ask for that card, and I have to give three up.
“We can stop now,” he offers.
“Absolutely not!” I say in protest. There’s not a chance I can come back and win, but it’s the principle. I will not accept defeat lying down.
I’m a Gatlin, for heaven’s sake. I have to fight, especially a Stone.
“All right, I’m just being a gentleman here.”
“If that was the case, you’d let me win.”
He raises one brow. “Let you win? Like you’d let me win?”
“No, but I didn’t claim to be a gentlewoman. I want to win. I like winning.”
“I know, but maybe this will be a good lesson in humility,” Tristan says as he places down another set. “You know, humble you a bit.”
I flip him off.
“Anytime, babe.”
“That wasn’t an offer. In fact, I’m pretty sure this might have been our last time,” I lie.
He leans forward on his left hand, voice dropping low. “I’ll take that bet too. You like what we’re doing. You’re not ready to give this up.”
I hate that he’s right. I do enjoy this. I love every damn minute of what we have. The sex is great, and he’s funny, brings snacks, likes to cuddle—which I keep telling myself I don’t enjoy—and he’s sweet.
All these things make being around him fun.
Also, not having any expectations or requirements is so damn freeing.
I can be myself. I’m not trying to impress him. If anything, I’m trying to not impress him.
“Just shut up and give me your jacks.”
“You want my jack? Come and get it.” He wiggles his brows, and I burst out laughing. My cards go flying at him, and then I launch myself into his arms. Tristan catches me, chuckling as he falls back, pulling me to his chest.
“You’re an idiot,” I tell him.
“And yet here you are in my arms.”
I shake my head because it’s true. I am. Like a dummy.
I swipe my legs against the stacks of cards and look up into his eyes. “Oops, the cards are messed up, and now we’ll never be able to see who won.”
“Oh, how convenient.”
“I was going to say terrible, but…that works.”
Tristan grins. “You know I won. I was kicking your ass.”
“I’m really sorry, Tristan. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He rolls me over, hovering above me, wrapped in his sweatshirt. “No? Do I need to jog your memory?”
That sounds promising. “And how, pray tell, do you plan to do that?”
“I have a few ideas.” His hand snakes down my side to my hip.
“Then by all means, cowboy, jog my memory.”
The funny thing is, he doesn’t do that. In fact, he makes me forget everything. Including the fact that I’m supposed to hate him.
Ben Thrustin
Good morning. Can you get away for a night and not to meet me at the ridge?
I stare down at the text and bite my thumbnail. How do I answer that?
How about honestly, Lark?
I sigh and respond.
Maybe. Why? Are you planning to kill me and leave me somewhere in the wilderness?
Ben Thrustin
Since I have you in the wilderness pretty much every night and haven’t killed you yet, I think you’re safe.
Am I?
Ben Thrustin
Care to take a chance?
Yes, yes, I do. Which is stupid. I could tell him no, say I don’t want that, and we need to stick to the rules we set.
I could, but you know, that’s just clearly not what I’m willing to do when it comes to anything regarding Tristan.
What do you have in mind?
Ben Thrustin
Pack a bag and come away for the night.
I read that text six times to make sure I’m not seeing words that aren’t there, but no, that’s what it says.
You want me to come away with you?
Ben Thrustin
Yes, leave your car at Mary Lou’s and I’ll pick you up there at five.
All right…
I’m not sure what the heck any of this is, but at the same time, there’s no way I’ll say no.
Mary Lou is back in Montana, so that seems like a great place to leave my car so no one will notice. Not sure what I’m going to tell my family, but Carter will arrive soon, and I doubt they’ll care, since it’s all about him anyway.
Still, I fret for the rest of the day about it all. I worry about what to wear, where we’re going, what we’re going to do.
Each time I check the clock and it’s been only fifteen minutes instead of the hour it feels like, I start to go a little crazy.
Finally, around four, I put the horses up and find Momma in the kitchen.
“Hi, love.”
I smile and kiss her cheek. “Hi, Mom. Just so you know, I’m going to see Mary Lou tonight, and I’ll be home sometime tomorrow.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh? Did you mention that before?”
“No, she called and asked me to come up. I miss her, so…”
“Of course, honey. Have fun.”
“I will. I’m going to shower and head out.”
Momma smiles. “All right.”
I rush upstairs to my room and hop in the shower, stressing the entire time I wash the day off.
I try not to shake as I’m shaving my legs—and other places.
This is kind of exciting and totally out of character.
Still, a night away with Tristan where we’re not worried about bugs or horses or sneaking out is going to be kind of amazing.
As I’m washing the conditioner out of my hair, a new worry hits me. What the hell do I pack?
Gah! All of this is too much.
Okay, breathe, Lark. You’ve already been with this man every night for almost two weeks. This is just an overnight trip where we’ll actually be in a bed—maybe.
I’ll pack a cute dress, comfy shoes, and condoms. Lots of condoms.
Although maybe he’ll bring those.
I force myself to keep it together. I put on a pair of jeans, boots, and a cute top with a sweatshirt over it—so no one will see said cute top—and throw some stuff in a bag.
Okay, that’s a lie. I literally agonize over which sundress to pack, but I finally get one in there that I don’t totally hate.
Once I pass the mirror test, I head out to Mary Lou’s house, park my car, and wait.