Chapter 40
Tristan
Lark is recovering better than any of us could’ve expected.
Instead of weeks—plural—in the hospital, the doctors let her go exactly one week after she woke up.
The swelling went down, she has no residual issues, and while the one lingering worry was her vision, it shows no signs of any complications.
However, she has to take it easy, which means no riding, no training horses, and a lot of rest.
This also means the once-peaceful nature of our nights is gone. If I want to see her, I have to go to her house and sit with her family—who don’t shoot death stares anymore but are definitely not friendly—and we’re not allowed to touch.
That’s her father’s rule.
While I’d love to tell him where to shove his rule, Lark expressed her desire to take things slowly for their sakes, so I’ve abided by it. However, she’s been home for over two weeks, and I want some time alone.
Tonight, I’m breaking her out. To hell with their rules.
“Now, I don’t think that’s going to happen, son,” Mr. Gatlin says as I stand at the door.
“She needs some air.”
“She needs to recover.”
I sigh. “Mr. Gatlin, I love Lark, and I would never risk her safety. You should know that.”
He looks torn, and then a small hand rests on his shoulder from behind. “Daddy, I’ll be fine.”
Thank God.
He looks to me, then Lark, and steps back. “I should’ve stopped at the fourth boy instead of thinking I needed a girl,” he mutters.
She holds back a laugh and smiles when I pull out the flowers from behind my back. “Hello, beautiful.”
“Hello, cowboy.”
“Care to take a ride with me?” I ask, pointing to the side-by-side behind me.
Her big smile lights up my entire world. “I’d love to.”
Tonight is about her. It’s a chance for me to make up for the pain I caused her—as much as I can.
I want to give her everything she’s ever wanted, and while that’s not completely possible, maybe I can give her a piece of it tonight.
I help her into the passenger side and then head around. Deacon stands in the door, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t like you, Stone.”
“Feeling is mutual,” I toss back.
He flips me off.
I return the favor.
Lark huffs. “Really? Grow up—the both of you.”
“Only because you said so, Tornado.”
Now it’s her turn to flip him off.
What a full circle we make.
“Be nice to her or I’ll kick your ass,” I threaten jokingly. Okay, half jokingly. I would relish the chance to punch him.
“Name the time and the place, old man,” he tosses back.
“As super fun as this is, you’re ruining my date. Go away,” Lark calls out to him and then turns to me. “Can you not bicker with my brother and just leave?”
I laugh. “Your wish is my command.”
She groans and rests her head back as we drive off.
The ride out to the ridge takes an extra fifteen minutes. I have to take a different route than I would on horseback.
“Where the heck are you going?” she asks. “We can’t get to the ridge on this.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” I grin, steering to the trail that I spent about six hours putting in—with her brothers.
The four of us went out there—Carter came as well—and we cut brush, cleared a few trees that we’re going to pretend were already felled, and removed debris so I could get out here. They bitched the entire time but never stopped working until we knew we could get the machine through here.
It’ll be another few weeks until Lark can ride, and now she can safely come out here anytime she wants.
“Tristan?” she asks, sitting up as she sees us getting through what was unpassable just a few hours ago. “How?”
“Your brothers and I were out here all day.”
Her hands go to her mouth, and she gasps. “You gave me back the ridge?”
“I would swim through a flood for you, Lark.”
I remember when I said that to her, how I felt, the way the words were meant, but then what they’ve become. Lark has always been different than just her last name. She’s deserved more than what she’s accepted from the people in her life.
I hurt her when I did the same, and I won’t ever do it again.
She reaches her hand out to take mine. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Cutting down some trees?” I ask jokingly.
“No, you know what. This place is special to me—to us—and now I have a way to get to our little slice of heaven.”
I lift her hand, kissing the top of it. “There’s more.”
“There is?”
I grin. “Oh, there is.”
We drive through, and where we had a small tent with a blow-up mattress now sits a big white tent, very similar to the one we went glamping in.
Lark gasps as it comes into view. “Tristan!”
The joy in her voice goes right to my heart. I pull up close, stopping the side-by-side and helping her out. She holds on to my arm as we walk up the stairs that I built today. I wanted the tent elevated so we have less chance of bugs.
We enter, and I watch her face. The smile, the brightness in her green eyes, the way she looks around in complete disbelief that this is here.
The tent is pretty basic, but what we did inside isn’t.
There’s a full-size bed in the center, complete with pillows, blankets, and even a headboard.
On the right side, I set up a makeshift sink with jugs of water under it, and on the left is a comfy chair she can sit in.
The front opens to a mesh screen, so we can enjoy the outside without any intruding bugs.
She turns slowly, looking at everything. “How?”
I shrug. “I had help.”
“This is…how do we have lights?” she asks, looking up at the string lights.
“They’re solar powered.”
“Tristan…I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you like it?”
Lark nods. “So much.”
“Then that’s all I needed.”
She closes the distance between us, then takes my face in her hands. “I need you.”
“That went without saying.”
Her lips touch mine softly before she slides her arms up, knocking my hat to the ground. She holds on to me, her fingers sifting through my hair as she deepens the kiss.
Since her injury, we haven’t had any alone time, but the doctor also advised against getting her heart rate up.
“Sweetheart,” I say, pulling away. “We can’t.”
Lark gives me a small smile before biting her lip. “Oh, but we can.”
My eyes narrow as I try not to let my heart—or any other organ—get excited.
She moves back toward me, hand resting on my chest. “The doctor said I could return to doing some light exercise.”
“What I have in mind, baby—there’s nothing light about it.”
One brow arches. “Well, would you be willing to slow it down then?”
“There is nothing more I want than to love you.”
She moves her hand up my chest. “Prove it.”
My mouth is on hers in a heartbeat. I kiss her as though it’s our first. I clutch at her waist, hauling her against me. God, she feels so good. Her warmth, her body, her heart, are all mine.
Her arms loop around my neck, and I lift her, carrying her to the bed. I slowly lower her, careful not to cause her any stress.
“I’m not breakable, Tristan,” she says with a playful grin as she lifts her shirt over her head. “You can’t hurt me.”
She’s ridiculous to think that. “I have the memory of almost two weeks in a hospital that says otherwise.”
Her finger brushes my jawline. “I’m here now, baby. Right here.”
Yeah, right now, but what about tomorrow or the next day? What about the future and the fear that surrounds it?
The thoughts come, one on top of the other, creating a vortex of worries.
Lark must see something or sense it because she shakes my face slightly.
“Hey, none of that. Not tonight. Tomorrow you can go into your overprotective mode and worry about me and everyone you love, but tonight is not about that.”
God, I love her.
“Oh? What’s tonight about?”
“Us. You and me and our place. It’s about love and laughter. It’s about being together while the world is going on without us. Tonight, you’re mine and mine alone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a grin. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow we’ll worry about all the other shit.”
I can live with that.
We both move into each other, our lips coming together as if she was made for me. I lose myself, my thoughts, my worries, in her. I unclasp her bra, letting it fall between us. Then she is tearing at my shirt, her fingers gliding across my chest.
“I love you,” Lark whispers.
“I love you too.”
And I do. In a way I didn’t know I could. Not because I’m incapable of it, but because it used to terrify me. Lark is sunshine and smiles and happiness. She’s the lifeline when I’m drowning and the starlight when it’s dark. Her brightness has eliminated all the emptiness that lived inside me.
My world was fine. I had Sadie. I had my family, and that was enough after the loss I’d been through. I didn’t want to expand my heart to anything else. I was good at pretending everything was enough.
Until Lark.
She made me see that the life I was living wasn’t enough.
“Make love to me, Tristan,” Lark says softly, her eyes meeting mine.
I carefully lower her back to the mattress, loving that it’s a bed and I can do that without worries of popping it or one of us going off it unexpectedly. I lie beside her, my hand trailing from her neck down over her breasts, to her stomach, and to the button on her jeans.
I undo the button, then slide the zipper down, and she lifts so I can pull her pants off. I toss them to the floor, leaving her in her panties.
“My turn,” she murmurs.
She does the same to me, only she removes my boxers at the same time. Her tongue slides against her lips.
“Like what you see?”
“Always. Even when I was supposed to hate you, I thought you were hot. I wondered what you looked like naked—often.”
My male ego takes the compliment and stores it away. “And is it what you hoped for?”
“No,” she says, and that compliment vanishes.
“What?”
Lark giggles. “You’re better. Knowing you, loving you, seeing you with Sadie, it all makes you better than I could’ve ever dreamed of.” Her hand moves to my cheek. “I’m a very lucky woman.”