Untouched (26 page)

***

“Hey, Quinn, can I talk to you for a second?”

Quinn turned and saw Jake walking away from Sam and toward him. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to . . . ask why you don’t ride in the circuit anymore.”

“I told you guys I got booted.”

“Because you got blamed for something you didn’t do. What was it?”

“You follow the rodeo, right? I mean, you knew who I was. You used to work with the horses.”

“I helped, yeah. So . . . I guess I kind of follow it.”

Quinn took his hat off and rested it on the fence post. “You know Cade Mitchell then. You remember his accident?”

Jake paled. “Yeah, I remember. I was there that day.”

“It was a hell of a thing. Not something you want to see happen to anyone, even if you don’t like the guy.”

“They blamed that on you?”

Quinn nodded once. “Yeah. Because out of everyone there, I’m the one with the past. I’m the one who wasted my time as a kid getting into trouble, and I’m the one . . . I’m the one who walked into the circuit expecting to be rejected. So I was a jerk to everybody. I didn’t make a single friend who would stand up for me. I pushed everyone away.”

“Like I do,” Jake said.

“Yeah. Like you do.”

“What do you do when you feel like you’re too far gone to come back?” Jake asked. “Like you’ve already made the worst mistake you could ever make and there’s nothing you can do to fix it.”

“That’s called rock bottom, kid. That’s when you start climbing out of the hole.”

Jake looked down. “How?”

“Sometimes it’s just not being too stubborn to ask for a hand up.” Quinn ignored the pressure in his chest, and the image in his head of Lark standing over him with her hand held out to him. “Why don’t you go help Sam clean the tack?”

Jake smiled, the first time he’d seen the boy look happy. “Okay.”

Quinn let out a breath and leaned against the fence, putting his hat back on his head. Weird how much he would miss this place when he was gone. How much he would miss the woman he’d found here.

But staying wasn’t an option. It never had been. He had one goal, and one goal only. Nothing could be allowed to get in the way. He had one more option, and then he was going to start chipping away at the Mitchell empire until Cade had no choice but to give in.

***

Cade walked toward the door and cursed his leg the whole way. “I’m coming,” he said, wishing faster were an option tonight. It just wasn’t. That was the most frustrating thing. When what he wanted to make happen with his mind couldn’t be matched with his body.

That had never been him before. Whatever he’d wanted, he’d done it. But now . . . now he felt like he couldn’t do a damn thing. Three years, and his body still felt like it belonged to someone else.

He wrenched the door open and froze, pondering getting the shotgun as he stared down Quinn Parker.

“What do you want?”

“To talk to you.”

“Do you want my blessing to keep defiling my sister? Because I can’t give you that. But I can give you a ‘go to hell.’”

“I’m actually kind of surprised you haven’t come to drag her back by her hair,” Quinn said.

He’d thought about it. He’d dreamed about it. Storming that bastard’s house and bringing Lark home. Fixing whatever was wrong with her head that made her think he was an okay guy to be with.

But what was the point? He couldn’t make her stay. He couldn’t make her care that the asshole had nearly killed him. If she didn’t care, what more was there to say?

“Well, she’s an adult,” Cade bit out. “I can’t force her. But I don’t have to accept it either.”

“Well, that’s fine. I didn’t come here for that. I didn’t even come here to talk about her,” Quinn said, leaning against the support beam on the covered porch. “I want to give you one more chance to clear my name.”

“And why would I do that?”

“If you aren’t interested in the truth, maybe you’ll do it to keep things running smoothly at the ranch. Maybe you’ll consider the personal connection I have.”

“I knew it. You’re using her.” Cade’s blood had just about reached the boiling point. Leg pain or no leg pain, his fist connecting with Quinn’s jaw seemed like a good idea. Followed up by kicking the bastard in the ribs, stomping him. Just like the horse had done to him. So he would know even a fraction of his pain.

“I didn’t have to use her. She’s told me a lot of her own free will.”

“Out. Off my property right now, or I can’t promise you they won’t be looking for your body tomorrow.” Rage poured through Cade, unreasonable, uncontrollable. But when he pictured this man, the man who had ruined his career, with his hands all over his sister, murder was the nicest thing on his mind.

“One more chance, Mitchell. One more, and I pull the rug out from under you.”

“You think you have connections I don’t?”

“In this instance?” Quinn nodded. “Yeah, I know I do. And I know where you’re weak.”

“I’m not clearing a name that doesn’t deserve it. Do what you need to do, but I’m not giving you your place back in the circuit. If they ever hinted at reinstating you, I would fight it until I ran out of breath, and if you think I’m bluffing, watch me get out of bed in the morning. How long it takes. How I look like an old man. Then you’ll know how serious I am.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow and tipped his hat. “Then you’ll hear from me soon.”

He turned and walked back down the porch and to his truck. Cade watched him drive away, and he wondered how in the hell life could get so screwed up.

It had been bad enough for Quinn Parker to take the rodeo from him. For him to take his ability to ride from him.

But now he was tearing apart his family too.

***

Quinn got off the phone with his buddy who dealt with the livestock contracts for the circuit. One well-placed word, and they could get the Mitchells cut loose from their horses being used in competition.

It was shameless, and he knew it. He didn’t have a lot of friends, but Steve was one, and Quinn knew he could count on him to do this favor with minimal questions asked. He also knew it would be a pretty big blow to the Mitchells.

Because he knew, from Lark’s own mouth, that the injection of revenue they got from competitions was the thing keeping them from sinking.

If he had to go down, Cade would come down with him.

He’d done it. He was every inch the bastard he’d always thought. That he’d always believed. The vision of Lark’s face sent a sharp stab of pain through his body. How would she handle it? What would it mean for her?

How had it all gotten tangled like this?

In the end though, of course he’d chosen to do it. No matter how it affected Lark. Because that was who he was.

And she should know. She should know whose house she was in. Whose bed she’d been sharing. She thought she knew, but she didn’t. That was the thing. She was lying to herself. She thought she knew who he was, and even though he’d told her the way things really were, and she said she believed him, she didn’t really.

He had to make her see it. He had to make her understand.

He walked up the stairs and hoped he’d find Lark in their room—his room. It wasn’t their room. They’d been sleeping in it together, but it wasn’t theirs. None of this was theirs. It was his. And she had her life, her life with her brothers.

The life he was uprooting.

Because that was the brand of bastard he was.

He threw open the bedroom door and found it empty. He could hear water running in the bathroom, and he walked through and inside. Lark was in the shower, the glass door steamed up, obscuring the details of her. All he could see was her shape. Pale skin and sweet curves.

She was swaying back and forth beneath the water, her arms above her head, in her hair, scrubbing while she moved to a song that seemed to be only in her head.

“Lark,” he said, his voice echoing in the room, competing with the shower spray.

“Hi,” she said, not opening the door. “You should come in.”

“Not now.”

“But Quinn, I’m lonely. And I need someone to wash my . . . back.”

For some reason her words, the familiarity of them, the request to help with something he knew damn well she could do by herself and had done by herself before him, sent a shaft of pain through him.

“You don’t need me to do that.”

“Oh.” She stopped swaying, lowering her arms slowly.

“I went to see Cade today.”

“Why?”

He was glad the glass was between them. He was glad she couldn’t see his face.

“To tell him that if he didn’t clear my name, I was going to ruin him. And happily. I told him basically what I already told you.”

“And he said?”

“He won’t do it.”

Silence fell between them, the shower on the tile the only sound now. “What did you do, Quinn?”

“I made some calls. Elk Haven is set to lose its contracts with the Rodeo Association.”

“What? How? Why?”

“Because Steve is a friend of mine. Because I told him the situation, and he’s prepared to stick his neck out for me on the basis of the fact that Elk Haven might not be able to fulfill its word because of Cade’s injuries.”

“Quinn . . . if that happens . . . I don’t know how they’re going to keep the ranch going. We needed that money.”

“And you told me,” he said, his voice rough. “And I used it. I told you, Lark, I told you who I was. I told you I had bad blood. And you . . . you’re just a simple little virgin who believed you could reform a bad boy. Whatever you told me, whatever you told yourself, that’s the truth of it.”

The water shut off, and Lark pushed the shower door open, emerging completely naked and not even trying to hide herself. “Is that what you think? That I wanted to reform you?”

“Isn’t it?” he asked.

“You stupid asshole,” she said. “I didn’t want to reform you. I wanted you to see what I saw. Because if you did . . . Quinn, if you saw the man I see . . . you wouldn’t need this so bad.”

“Honey, you’re just looking at life through freshly fucked glasses. It’s not me, it’s you. You think you see something that’s not there.”

“No, that’s where you’re wrong.” She took a step to him and she put her arms around him, heat and moisture from her skin seeping through his clothes. “You’re trying to push me away so that I don’t look and see who you are. So that you don’t have to look and see who you are. But I see you, Quinn.”

“Not clearly.” His heart was pounding hard, and he was trying, trying with everything in him, to find the strength to pull away. Because he had no right to touch her. Not again. Not after what he’d done.

He was hurting her. Even while he was hurting her she was giving to him. Touching him like he was a man who was worth something. Like he was a man who could understand softness, who could understand tender emotion.

She was wrong. But he didn’t want her to be. For a moment, just a moment, he wanted to be the man Lark thought he could be.

He wanted to fold into himself into her embrace and be worthy of it.

The sudden feeling of being absolutely ashamed filled him, washed through him. He felt like nothing. A man with an empty chest and arms that were full of a woman he didn’t deserve. A woman he should never have touched.

“Oh, I see you.”

No
. He wanted to say it. Wanted to scream the denial. He’d come up here to confess his sins and make her see, and now he wanted to hide the monster he’d presented her because when she saw, when she finally saw, she would turn away from him in complete disgust.

He would. If he didn’t have to live in this body, he would have peeled his own skin off and escaped years ago.

But you can’t escape your soul. It’s rotten no matter what.

She started working the buttons on his shirt. “I need you,” she said.

“No, Lark.” He shook his head. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Shut up, Quinn,” she said. She leaned in and kissed his neck.

“You can’t need me.”

“Then you need me.”

And he couldn’t argue with that. He let her undo the buttons on his shirt, let her kiss him like she was gasping and he was air. Let her undo his belt buckle and push his jeans to the floor.

Then he followed her out into the bedroom, and he didn’t protest when she pulled him onto the bed with him.

She stopped kissing him for a second, her eyes locked with his, her hands on his cheeks. “You need me,” she said again.

He was shaking with his need for her. Couldn’t deny it. But couldn’t bring himself to say it either. For her. For him.

So he just let her keep kissing him, pouring into the deep, empty spaces inside of him. And he took it, let her try and fill him, even though he knew she could spend all of her life trying and never impact the emptiness.

And he would leave her empty too. Everything spent on a man who would take and take and never be satisfied.

She parted her thighs for him and he groaned, rubbing his cock over her slick folds. He shuddered, pressing his forehead against her chest. “I can’t wait,” he said.

She reached over and grabbed a condom out of the drawer and tore it open, reaching down between them and rolling it onto his length. After she removed her hand he gripped himself and made sure the protection was on as well as it should be. The last thing she needed was a lasting consequence from him.

As if you you’ll leave her without any scars.

He pushed the voice away, and pushed into her, the feeling of completeness, of homecoming, so overwhelming it tugged the breath from his lungs.

For a moment, he felt so satisfied, so complete, he just wanted to stay there, joined to her, forever. He’d never felt so at peace. Had never felt as comfortable in his own body as he was when he was pressed up against hers.

But then she flexed her hips, her internal muscles tightening around him, and his need slipped its leash, roaring through him like a lion, demanding satisfaction.

And he could do nothing but chase it. He thrust into her, deep and hard, and she moaned, fingernails digging into his skin, her breath hot on his neck.

He was lost. In her. Her scent, the feel of her, around him, against him, soft and yielding, the perfect answer to his hardness. Strong where he was weak. Vulnerable where he had no give.