Untouched (23 page)

“You could have asked me,” she said. “It’s real.”

“I know. But no one else was looking to see who might have caused the accident. No one else ever wondered who sabotaged the ride. So I had to go in and ask questions, I was the only suspect, so I had to see if I could find another one.”

“And now what?” she asked. “Now that you know it’s real?”

“I still need to get back in there, Lark. No matter what, I need to make sure I get back to the circuit. I can’t spend the rest of my life like this. Drifting. With nothing. Being nothing. I can’t do it.”

“What do you need?”

“I need him to recant his story.”

“And if he won’t?”

“I need him to.”

“So, you tell me, Quinn . . . is that what you’re using me for? Is that why I’m here?”

“No. And yes. It’s complicated.”

“Dammit, Quinn!” she shouted, shaking now. “Is that why I’m here?”

“It’s why you’re here. But it’s not why I’m sleeping with you. Obviously I didn’t contract you to come here at random. I thought I could use you to get information about your brother. I thought I could use your position at the ranch as an annoyance to him at minimum. And I thought seducing you might be the way to accomplish that. Or that . . . if you saw something in me he might change his stance.”

“Brilliant. Brilliant plan. You banging me on every available surface in your house totally made my brother your best friend. Oh, wait, no, it made my brother punch you in your face. On what planet was this a good idea?”

“I told you, that’s not why I’m sleeping with you. Because it was a terrible idea. The better I got to know you, the less I liked myself for what I’d been planning to do, and I already like myself a damn small amount, Lark.” He took his hat off and pushed his hands through his hair. “And I told myself that seducing you . . . that it was wrong. That I couldn’t do it. And I wasn’t going to. But then you came knocking on my door with your ice cream, and your body, and those eyes . . . baby, I didn’t seduce you. You seduced me.”

“I was a virgin,” she sniffed. “Virgins don’t seduce. You . . . took me. You brute.”

“Your story has changed.”

“I’m pissed at you now.”

“Enough that you want to leave?”

The way he was looking at her, those dark eyes, eyes that didn’t match anyone in his family’s, filled with . . . regret, made it hard to think about leaving him. It wasn’t hard to be mad at him. He deserved for her to be mad at him.

He deserved for her to be relationship-ending mad at him. But the thing was, she just wasn’t. Maybe because he’d told her. And he didn’t have to. Because he’d stood right there and told her the whole story.

“Why are you sleeping with me?”

“Because I can’t resist you,” he said. “Because, no matter how much my conscience burns—which, it’s news to me I have one, by the way—I can’t stop myself. I see you, and I want you. I think of you, and my body is on fire like that.” He snapped his fingers to emphasize the point. “Lark, I want you in Superman underwear and out of them. And what we have, it has nothing to do with Cade. Yeah, it started that way. But that’s not why we ended up together.”

Her throat tightened, her stomach aching. Because they hadn’t ended up together. They were sleeping together, having lots of great sex, but that wasn’t ending up together. It wasn’t feelings, love and forever. It wasn’t wedding bells and babies.

She thought back to that day at Tyler’s wedding. It had hurt, but she’d known, even then, that she hadn’t wanted wedding bells and babies.

She wanted them now though. Not in the general sense. In a very specific one. She wanted to walk down the aisle toward Quinn. She wanted to have his babies. She was a sad, predictable, lovelorn idiot.

And Kelsey was right. She’d been lying to herself, all this time. She’d thought she was fine with losing Quinn after a few weeks, thought she was accepting their affair for what it was. But deep down . . . deep down, she’d always wanted more. And secretly believed there would be

Because she loved this big rough idiot. This man who had never fit in anywhere. Who had been the worst, and then been content to let people go on believing the worst, even after he’d semi-reformed. This man who was driven by anger. A man her brother hated.

A man who would probably never love her back.

She couldn’t have made this any harder on herself if she’d tried.

“Quinn,” she said, her lips dry, numb. “I . . . what are you going to to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“To Cade. To get back in.”

“Whatever I have to do.”

“I don’t want you to hurt my family.” Even as she said that, she had an image of Cade’s fist slamming into Quinn’s jaw. “I love Cade,” she said.

“I want one thing,” he said. “That’s to get back into the circuit. I don’t want to hurt your family. But I will do what I have to do to get my place back.”

“And where do I fit?”

“You’re . . . you’re not a part of it.”

“I am though, Quinn. I am.”

He put his hat back on, his expression blank. “Then maybe you should go on home. I’ll pay you. For the rest of your contract. I really didn’t mean . . . well, I decided not to tangle you up in this, even if it was too late by the time I decided it. So I’m letting you go now.”

He turned away from her and walked down the path, back toward the boys, and she just stood there, her fingertips icy, the world unsteady beneath her feet.

Then she walked back toward the house. She walked in through the front door and saw a box sitting on the sideboard in the entry with a stack of envelopes on it.

It was from the lingerie company. To Longhorn Ranch, care of Quinn Parker. She put the envelopes on the table and picked up the box, opening it and looking inside at the neatly folded thongs, bras and negligees, wrapped in tissue paper.

She picked the box up and carried it up the stairs to Quinn’s room, sitting on the bed, staring down at all the frilly, lacy things.

When she’d ordered those, she’d felt so brave. So different. She’d felt like changing herself from the ground up, or at least changing her underwear to match the woman she felt like she was becoming.

She still liked
Doctor Who
, but the underwear was starting to seem silly. Maybe not for day wear. But for the times when she was with her lover. So funny, because change and instability had always terrified her, and now she felt like she was running toward change. Toward the new Lark.

Quinn wanted to get revenge on Cade. That was simplified, and she knew it. Quinn was willing to do whatever he had to in order to get himself back on the circuit, and at first, hurting Cade had been an added bonus to the whole thing.

She couldn’t ignore that. Quinn might be innocent of the accusations made against him, but Quinn wasn’t innocent. He was a man who got things done by whatever means necessary. He didn’t just want his life back—he wanted to punish her family in the process.

He wasn’t a sure bet. He wasn’t safe. He’d already dragged her out into the sun and put her on horseback. He’d been her first real sexual experience. He’d made her step away from the keyboard, stop looking at life through a screen.

He made her want touch. Skin. His lips, his hands, his body. Virtual would never be enough again.

But she had a feeling any man who wasn’t Quinn wouldn’t be enough either.

This was all scary. It would be easier to go home. To return these slutty undies to sender and get back in her comfort zone. Shooting zombies and curling up in bed alone, instead of making love, laughing and falling asleep in Quinn’s arms.

She could go back to staying away from the sun. To having nothing more than typical sibling conflict with her brothers.

She could go back to the bedroom that had become her pen. The thing that kept her safe from life’s dangers, while simultaneously keeping her from any of life’s most incredible treasures.

She could stick to cotton panties and never, ever, ever try on a thong.

Safety. It would be a run back to safety.

Lark pulled a pair of black, exceedingly sheer, underwear from the box. She stood slowly, watching them dangle from her fingertips.

Then she whipped her shirt over her head, took her bra off, tugged her pants down and put them on.

She wiggled. Good Lord, that was weird. Her butt was bare, and the little band of fabric that ran between her cheeks left her feeling more exposed than if she were naked. And also gave her the vague feeling of having a wedgie.

There was nothing safe about thongs. She and her comfort zone had officially parted ways.

Lark bent down and tugged a sheer black camisole from the box and slipped it on, looking at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the wall. She looked . . . not like her.

At least, not like she imagined herself. She looked like a woman. Not like a girl who would hide in her room and play games in order to keep the world from intruding.

She looked like the kind of woman who would face her relationship difficulties head-on. And who knew some seriously naughty sex moves. Who knew what she wanted.

She wanted Quinn. But with Quinn came a whole massive bag of issues and the potential for serious heartbreak.

“Well, be realistic,” she said to her reflection. “If you left now, it’s not like you wouldn’t be heartbroken.”

No, she would be broken. In every way. Cade and Cole might never forgive her. Ever. And that was a reality she hadn’t been willing to face before this moment. Because they’d always been there, so imagining a time when they wouldn’t be . . . it was too painful. But remembering the way Cade had looked at her the last time she’d seen him . . .

She might have broken that relationship past the point of fixing.

And when Quinn left, who would she have? No one. She would be alone. Alone, and she wouldn’t have the man she loved.

Oh, yeah, love. She already loved him.

There was no reason to run, because there was no reason to run to. Because if she ran, she would be running from her feelings. Running scared. She’d been scared all of her life. Of being alone, of being unloved. She was facing the possibility of both of those things now.

Of being without her brothers. Being without Quinn.

Unless she stood her ground and fought.

She was tired of being scared.

Tonight she was going to give him a serious show.

It was time to be brave.

***

Quinn had avoided the house for as long as possible. Now he had to go in and see how empty it felt.

He’d never had a woman live with him before. Somehow, he and Lark had been living together, even if it hadn’t been for long. And now he knew the house was going to feel hollowed out. Because she would be gone, and he deserved it.

He pushed the front door in and bypassed the kitchen, walking straight up the stairs, taking his hat and shirt off as he went, not caring where they landed.

His bed was going to feel big and empty tonight. He knew it. It was stupid, because he’d never liked sharing a bed. Not after the sex was over. He didn’t do the limbs-tangled-up, listening-to-each-other-breathe thing.

At least, he hadn’t before Lark.

That little geek was doing a number on him. At least, she had been. He should be thankful it was over.

He opened his bedroom door and froze.

Because the little geek wasn’t gone. She was in his room, on his bed, looking like anything but a little geek.

She was perched on the edge of the mattress, clad in black lingerie, enticing hints of pale skin beneath the dark fabric sending a rush of blood straight down below his belt buckle.

Her hair was messy, tumbled over her shoulders, and there was a fire in her dark eyes that he could feel burning through him, into him.

“Hey there, Parker. I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

It was Lark. She might look different, but she was the same. He couldn’t even explain the flood of relief that hit him.

That she was here. That she was her.

“I had work to finish. I don’t know about you.”

“My boss told me I could leave.” She put her hands behind her and leaned back, thrusting her breasts into prominence. He could make out the faint shadow of her nipples beneath the thin fabric.

Lark in lingerie was threatening to bust his zipper. His cock was so hard it hurt. She was sexy enough in the crazy panties she normally wore. She was sexy without trying. And apparently when she threw effort behind her sexy, she was downright deadly to his health.

“Your boss is an idiot.”

“Yeah, no argument.” She stood up and he groaned, couldn’t stop himself. The faint shadow of dark hair visible through those tiny panties was was enough to send him to his knees. “Are you still planning on getting revenge on my brother? Say there’s nothing that can be done about the circuit. He won’t reverse his statements. Will you seek revenge, or do you just want vindication?”

He swallowed, his throat so dry it nearly stuck closed. “I won’t give up,” he said. “I’ll keep pushing. And pushing. If I have to make his life hell, make it so I’m not worth sticking to his guns quite so hard, I’m prepared to do it. I’m prepared to ruin him.”

“He’s ruined already, Quinn. As much as it hurts you to have lost the rodeo, it hurts him too.”

“But there’s no other option for him. If I had caused his injuries, I would deserve to share the same fate he does, but for the first time in my life I’m an innocent bystander.”

“I believe you,” she said. “And that’s why I’m still here. My brother is wrong. But so are you. I don’t want you to . . . I don’t want you to keep pursuing it all this way.”

“I don’t have another choice, Lark. And even if that means you walking out the door, even if it means me never touching you again, when I want you so much I ache, that’s the way it has to be.”

“You can’t choose me over your revenge?”

“I don’t have a damn thing to give you, baby.”

“You’re more than the rodeo, Quinn,” she said.

“I’m really not. And that’s why I can’t give up on this. It’s why I can’t choose you over revenge.”

“Fine,” she said. “Because I’m not going to ask you to.”

“What?”

“Shocking, right? I was shocked too. I was all ready to go, and then, these came in the mail. I ordered them. For you. For me, because I was tired of being embarrassed about what I was wearing to bed. You bear my eccentricities like a champ, Quinn, but god of the sack that you are, I felt you were owed recompense.” She turned. “A thong. I bought a thong.”