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Overview
Having never left the family ranch, Lark Mitchell needs a little adventure—or at least a romance that isn’t confined to the internet. Her older brothers Cole and Cade have always been too good at protecting her innocence, but even they can’t stop her from taking a second job—where her boss just so happens to be the kind of bad boy she craves. Too bad he’s also the one guy in Silver Creek she should never touch…
When Quinn Parker introduces himself, Lark tries to quit on the spot. Everyone knows Quinn was behind the accident that ended Cade’s rodeo career. But when he holds her to her contract, she can’t help wanting to get even closer. As she begins to see the man behind the gossip, she sees that not all of the things people say about him are true…even if there’s plenty about this bad boy she has yet to discover.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781101620557 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Penguin Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 01/21/2014 |
| Series: | Silver Creek Romance Series , #2 |
| Sold by: | Penguin Group |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 353 |
| Sales rank: | 23,818 |
| File size: | 890 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
It wasn’t like she even wanted any of this for herself.
Lark Mitchell looked around the completely unconventional wedding being thrown in her yard and fought the urge to cry.
Which was dumb as rocks, because there was no reason to cry. Seriously, the bride was wearing a black wedding dress. It was ridiculous. And, okay, the bride was also marrying the man Lark had spent the better part of two years completely fixated on, but that was no reason to cry.
It wasn’t like she loved Tyler. And in the year since he’d started dating Alexa, his new wife, and moved to New York, Lark had completely gotten over him.
No, this wasn’t heartbreak. She was just in the throes of that left-behind kind of melancholy that she was more familiar with than she’d like to be.
She’d felt that way when most of her friends had gone off to college and she’d stayed in Silver Creek to help out on the ranch. She’d felt it all through high school when other girls had gotten dates and she’d gotten the chance to tutor cute boys in English.
Just this sort of achy feeling that other people were going somewhere while she stood in the same place.
Or, in this instance, sat in the same place. At one of the florid tables placed around the lawn. This little wedding had come to Elk Haven Stables because Tyler was once a ranch hand, and because the bride in black was best friends with Lark’s sister-in-law, Kelsey.
Lark adored Kelsey, but she could honestly do without Alexa.
Which might be sour grapes. Maybe.
But damn, woman, marry a dude your own age. Tyler was in her own demographic, and he hadn’t known her in high school, which helped, because as awkward as she was now . . . high school had been a beyotch.
“Hey, sweetie.”
Lark looked up and saw Kelsey, holding baby Maddy on her hip and looking down at her with overly sympathetic blue eyes. “Hi,” Lark said.
“Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah. I’m . . . so okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay? I had a crush on this guy for like two seconds, a year ago. I never even kissed him.”
“I remember how much you liked him.”
“Thanks, Kels, but I’m a grown-up, as much as Cole doesn’t like to acknowledge it. I’ve moved on. I have another man in my life now.”
Because she was sure three rounds of cybersex six months ago with a guy she’d never met counted as having someone in her life. And if not, it at least bolstered her lie. She needed the lie. It was so much better than admitting she was pathetic. And that she spent most days in her room doing tech support for various and sundry people while eating Pop-Tarts and streaming Doctor Who through an online subscription service.
Yeah. Saying she was involved was better than admitting that.
“Oh. Do you? Because Cole”—Kelsey narrowed her eyes—“Cole doesn’t know.”
“No. And it’s okay if it stays that way.” The idea of her brother finding the transcripts from those little chats she’d had with Aaron_234 was ever so slightly awful.
Almost as bad as admitting that the closest she’d ever come to sex was a heavy breathing conversation. Over the Net. Where you couldn’t even hear the heavy breathing.
The very thought made her cringe at her own lameness. It was advanced geekiness of the highest order.
At least she excelled at something.
“I’m not going to keep secrets from Cole,” Kelsey said, sitting down at the table. “I mean, I won’t lie to him if he asks.”
“He shouldn’t ask. It’s not his business.” Of course, Cole wouldn’t see it that way. To Cole, everything in her life was his business. Thankfully, Kelsey and Maddy had deflected some of that, but then there was Cade. Cade, who was the more wicked brother. The irresponsible one. The one who should be cool with her doing whatever and finding her way in life by making a few mistakes.
But Cade was even worse than Cole, in his way. The hypocrite. She always figured it was because, while Cole guessed at what debauchery was out there in life, Cade had been there, done that, and bought the souvenir shot glass.
She’d considered ordering the shot glass online. So to speak. But she’d never done a damn thing. So all her brothers’ overprotective posturing was for naught, the poor dears.
Although, Cole had nearly torn Tyler a new one when he’d suspected they might have slept together. Alas, no such luck.
She’d love to have a mistake that sexy in her past.
All she had was a greasy keyboard and a vague, stale sense of shame, which lingered a lot longer than a self-induced orgasm.
“Yes, well, you don’t want to keep your boyfriend from us, do you?”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not. I exaggerated a little. It’s not like that.”
“Oh, so . . . is he someone in town, or . . . ?”
“He’s on the computer. He’s not . . . I haven’t talked to him in a while.” Like they’d ever really chatted about anything significant. It was more like a straight shot to “What are you wearing?”
“Oh . . . okay.”
“But the bottom line is that I’m fine. With this. Right now. Alexa and Tyler are welcome to their wedded bliss. I’m not in the space to pursue wedded bliss. I have other things to do.” Like sit on your ass and shoot zombies?
No. Real plans. To travel, someday. To have adventures. Maybe a meaningless fling here and there. In Paris? Paris seemed like a good place for a meaningless fling. Silver Creek certainly wasn’t. She knew all the idiots here.
Worse, they knew her. They knew her as a bucktoothed nerd who would do your calculus while you did the cheerleader. It was a poor set of assumptions with which to begin a relationship, so she just never tried.
It was better than doing the guy who was doing the cheerleader. Doing math was way less painful. Keeping it virtual was a lot less painful.
Otherwise you ended up watching the only guy you’d ever really thought you might have a shot with marrying another woman. Not that that was what was happening. Because she didn’t love Tyler, dammit.
But if she had married him, she wouldn’t have done it in a black dress. She was a gamer geek with limited social skills, but even she knew major life events were the time to drop your freak flag a little bit. Wear some lace. A pair of pumps. Ditch the Converse All Stars for a couple of hours.
Not that anyone had asked her, of course.
“I’m glad; I was a little worried about you.”
Worry for Lark’s well-being was apparently a virulent contagion at Elk Haven Stables. Cade and Cole had a bad case of it, and Cole had clearly infected his wife.
“No need to worry. I’m golden. I’m not in a picket-fence place right now.”
“Yeah, neither was I,” Kelsey said, shifting Maddy in her arms and looking pointedly at the little bundle of joy.
“Unless you can get knocked up driving by sperm banks now, I’m not going to be in your situation anytime soon.”
Kelsey laughed, the motion jiggling Maddy and making her giggle. “Yeah, steer clear of those clinics, or you might find yourself shackled to an obnoxious alpha cowboy for the rest of your life.”
“Already am, Kels. Two of them. We’re related, which means I can’t just ditch them. I’m not marrying a cowboy.” She looked back at Tyler. “I’m sick of cowboys, in fact. I’ll find someone metropolitan who knows that high fashion isn’t a bigger belt buckle and your Sunday go-to-meetin’ clothes.”
“Nothing wrong with wanting something different,” Kelsey said. “I guess Cole is my something different, so I can see the attraction to something you aren’t used to. I still rent out my house in Portland. If you ever want to go try something a little more urban . . .”
For some reason, the idea made Lark’s throat feel tight. “Uh . . . maybe another time. Cole is just getting all his social media stuff going for the ranch, and you know he needs close help with that. He’s death to computers.” All true enough, but in reality she could do most tech help remotely.
She would leave someday. Just not today. Or next week. Or next month. But that was fine.
“Well, that’s true,” Kelsey said. “But I’m not tech-illiterate, so I can help him a little. I do work on my computer, so I’m pretty familiar with everyday glitches.”
“But who would optimize your blog?” Lark asked. “It’s just starting to get huge.”
“True. The modern world is a wonderful thing.”
Kelsey was a health and wellness columnist, and she still had her column published in papers across the country, but since moving to the ranch, she’d started doing a lot of humorous posts about acclimating to life in the sticks, and thanks to her already established audience, it had become an instant hit.
And Lark was in charge of design and management of the website and its community.
Which was nice. It was nice to feel important. Nice to be needed.
“So you’re really okay?”
“Yes,” Lark said. “Stop giving me your wounded puppy eyes—I’m fine.”
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute, I have to go grab Cole.”
“Neat,” Lark said, reaching down beside her chair and pulling her phone out of her purse. She was itchy to check her email, because it had been a couple of hours and she hated the feeling of being disconnected.
She keyed in her PIN and unlocked the screen, her email client immediately loading about fifty messages.
She opened up the app and scrolled through the new mail. She had another one from Longhorn Properties. She’d been negotiating with the hiring manager, Mark, for a few days now. She hadn’t told anyone in her family about the offer, because she knew her brothers would get all proprietary and think they had to do it all for her.
Like she wasn’t smart enough to handle her own job opportunities in her own field. And yes, she worked for the family by and large, but she’d also done websites for several local businesses and had become the go-to IT tech for Silver Creek residents.
This would be her biggest deal by far. And the first time she’d be signing a contract for a job. But she was ready for the challenge.
She’d be setting up computers, servers, firewalls, and web filters at a ranch for troubled boys, and then doing a little bit of tech training too. It was a big undertaking, especially with everything she already did at Elk Haven, but honestly, she could use something to mix up her life.
Something that wouldn’t take her too far from the safety of her bedroom.
She had a little bit of a complex. She could admit that.
But she’d lost her mother so early, and then her father. Cole, Cade, the ranch, they might drive her nuts—but they were all she had. All she knew. Life felt horribly insecure outside of that. Terribly fragile.
Life was safe in video games. When you had armor and you could collect health right from the ground. Along with an AK-47 to take care of anyone or anything that might threaten you.
She skimmed the email and typed in a hasty reply, asking for more details on time frame and payment, then hit send.
“Is that thing welded to your hand?”
Cade walked over to her table and sat on the edge of it, his friend Amber in tow. Amber gave her an apologetic look. She would be annoyed with Cade silently, but Lark knew if push came to shove, Amber’s allegiance was with Lark’s obnoxious brother.
That was one relationship she had no desire to ever figure out.
“Nope, detachable.” She tossed the phone down into her purse. “Unlike your stupid face, which you’re sadly stuck with.”
“Very few people have a problem with my face.”
“Oh, dear, the tone of this conversation is lowering already,” Amber said.
He turned to Amber. “Women really like my face.”
Amber’s forehead wrinkled, her brows drawing together. “Do they?”
“If not my face, they like my . . .”
“No!” This came from both Amber and Lark in unison.
“My personality,” Cade said. “Sick people. You are sick people.”
“Yeah, we all believe that was going to be the next word out of your mouth, Cadence,” she said, using a name she’d assigned to Cade in childhood to piss him off.
Her brother hopped down from the edge of the table, wincing when his foot made contact with the grass, freezing, a pained expression on his face as he waited for what Lark assumed was a wave of pain to pass through him.
“Hey,” she said. “I didn’t think your leg was bothering you as much now.”
“It’s not,” he said.
“Lies. Dirty lies. What’s up?”
Cade gave her a hard look. But she knew he’d tell her, because he knew she had no problem harassing him until he did. “Nothing,” he said, his tone hard. “It’s nothing new. Just the same shit. It’s like there’s this nice little highway of pain that goes from my knee up to my spine. Not any worse.”
Just not any better. Not really.
She hated that. Hated that Cade couldn’t ride anymore. Hated that he hurt all the time. That day had scared years off of her life. She’d been convinced, when they’d gotten the call about Cade’s fall, that he was going to die too.
That she was really destined to lose everyone she loved. All of her family. That she would be left alone.
She blinked and tried to pull her mind back into the present. Cade wasn’t dead. He might be surly, and he might have a limp, and he couldn’t compete in the circuit, but he wasn’t dead. She really appreciated that since, as much as he drove her crazy, she needed him.
“Well, glad it’s not any worse.”
“Me too.”
“So, want to get hammered?” she asked, not that she made a practice of getting hammered—but it seemed like it might be a good idea.
“Hell yeah,” he said. “And Cole bought a lot of booze. His wedding gift to the newlyweds.”
Amber’s lips twitched. “You’re going to get hammered drinking champagne? Because Cole bought champagne. For the toast.”
“I have a talent where alcohol is concerned.”
“I know,” Amber said dryly. “I’ve held you hair, so to speak, while you puked off a hangover or ten.”
Lark made a face. “Sick. I’ve never had a hangover.”
Cade shrugged. “That’s because you live timid. I don’t.”
“And you’re all busted up to prove it,” she said, knowing Cade would rather joke about his condition than say anything weighty about it.
“But I’ve lived. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Indeed.”
“STFU, jackass,” Lark said.
He put his hand on her forehead. “You’re starting to speak lolcats. Get off the computer once in a while.”
“You don’t even know what lolcats is.”
“Something to do with cats and cheeseburgers. Amber texts me crap like that all the time.”
“At least she tries to modernize you,” Lark said, shaking her head.
“How did this become a commentary on me? At least I come out into the light every day.”
“Look,” Lark said, holding her—admittedly pale—arm out in a shaft of sunlight. “I don’t even sparkle!”
“Suspicious. I’m suspicious. Seriously,” Cade said, “I worry about you, in your cave all the time. You’ve got to live life, Lark, or it’s going to pass you by.”
“Are you seriously giving me advice?” she asked. “Name one thing in your life that’s organized, or settled, or . . . aspirant.”
“Fun, Lark, I have fun. With real people. Outside. Look around you; it’s in high-def.”
“You’re an idiot, and also, I have a life.”
“Virtually.”
And if that didn’t count as having a life she was screwed. She bit the inside of her cheek. “Annnnd?”
“And maybe you should get hungover, is all I’m saying.”
“But maybe have enough class not to go drinking all the champagne at a wedding to accomplish it,” Amber said, somewhat pointedly.
Yeah, if Lark did that here she really would look lovelorn and pathetic.
“Then I’ll hold off. Anyway, you don’t know everything about me, Cade.”
“Beg to differ.”
“You don’t.”
“If I checked your browser history I would.”
“Nuh-uh.” No one touched her computer but her, but even so, she didn’t leave certain things lying around on it. Secret shame was secret.
“Witty comeback,” he said. “Witty indeed. Why don’t you go talk to someone? Meet a guy.”
“Right. Meet a guy. Cole would be interrogating him before a full greeting exited my mouth.”
Cade shrugged. “You take the good with the bad.”
“You’re both mostly bad,” she said, not meaning it at all.
Amber rolled her eyes. “Have fun,” she said to Lark. “And catch up with us later maybe? You can help me haul his drunken ass to his room.”
“I say we leave him on the lawn.”
“Fair enough,” Amber said, turning and following Cade down to the table laden with drinks.
Lark bent back down and took her phone from her bag, trying not to think too much about her brother and his comments. Look what “living” had gotten him. And anyway, a hangover was hardly her definition of living.
She didn’t have to drink herself into a stupor to feel like she’d reached the heights.
She opened up her mail app and saw another one from Longhorn HR. She opened up the message.
The money offer had doubled, and the length of the contract was for six weeks, with the possibility of extension. And attached was the contract, to be returned as soon as possible.
She knew exactly what her answer was.
She fired off a quick reply and the promise to fax the signed contract over that night.
There. It wasn’t much. It was a local contract, and she would still be able to live at home while she fulfilled it. But it was something. A decision made on her own. A step toward meaningful independence.
She put her phone back in her bag and stood up, taking a deep breath. Then she headed over toward where the bride and groom were standing, by the cake.
She was going to offer her congratulations and sincerest well wishes. She wasn’t feeling quite so left behind anymore.
Quinn Parker was mean when he was pissed. Okay, he was mean most of the time, but especially when he was pissed.
And he was currently pretty pissed.
“You don’t have anything?” Quinn asked Sam, his right-hand man and basically the only person who could put up with his shit.
“Nothing concrete. It’s pretty tough to prove you didn’t do something, Quinn, barring a confession from someone else.”
“Beat a confession out of someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” Quinn rested his elbows on the granite countertop and stared across the bar at the empty living area. The cabin was almost completely done now. Though “cabin” seemed like a misleading word for the place.
Five thousand square feet. Huge kitchen, a dining room big enough to seat twenty. A living room made for the same number. And a section of private living space for himself.
The rest of the grounds had a kitchen that stood alone, along with outdoor dining. Classrooms. And cabins that were much more like actual cabins. Small and rustic. Just right for boys who needed to get their heads on straight.
His new role as philanthropist didn’t sit too well with him. Especially because a few local news outlets were wanting to do a piece on the ranch, and that was the last thing Quinn wanted.
Because if they started looking at his present, they’d look into his past too. And that was a minefield. It would start with his family background and move on to his arrest record, straight down to being barred from the Rodeo Association.
No way in hell was he issuing an invitation for someone to open that Pandora’s box.
But he could just keep hanging up on reporters. The important thing was the ranch. And messing with Cade Mitchell’s head.
“I was thinking Cade was the guy we might nail, in truth.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. I don’t know. You think he’s as injured as he said he was?”
“He got trampled pretty good. I saw the video.”
“Yeah, he got the hell beat out of him, that’s for sure.”
It had been an ugly sight. Quinn had been there, watching from the gates, when Cade had taken a fall off his horse, who had been spooked beyond reason, stomping and bucking. And unfortunately, Cade had been trapped beneath the animal at the time.
It was the worst injury he’d seen in his years on the circuit. It had left everyone there with a sick feeling in the pit of their stomachs.
But Quinn’s sick feeling had stayed. Because when the spike was found beneath the horse’s saddle, and when inquiries were made, Cade had pointed his finger at Quinn.
True, he’d never liked the bastard. Cade was the golden boy on the circuit. Mr. Good Time. Every buckle bunny was on him after events, every sponsor was after him for an endorsement. And all that was fine, because Quinn attracted his own women. The all-American good-time boy was nice for some. But some women liked dark and dangerous, and he wasn’t above catering to that. And as for endorsements, he frankly had a fortune on his hands now that his father was dead.
The man commonly billed as his father, anyway. Though Quinn, and everyone else in his family, knew differently. Whether they’d ever speak it out loud or not.
He didn’t need any of what Cade Mitchell had, no matter what anyone thought. And while Quinn had never been a particularly nice son of a bitch, even he had his limits. If Cade had taken a swing at him in a bar fight, Quinn would have knocked teeth out of his head and made that million-dollar face a lot less valuable.
Even he had enough . . . pride? Conscience? Something. He wouldn’t just ambush a man, especially when the move would injure an animal like this one had. The horse was fine, but it had been reacting to pure, biting pain.
Quinn might not like Cade, but he had no beef with the horse he was riding.
Bottom line, Quinn was a bastard. Cade knew it, the Rodeo Association knew it. Hell, the man commonly called his father knew it too, though he meant bastard in the more traditional sense of the word. Everyone else just thought he was a prick. But not matter how big of a prick he was, he wouldn’t do what he’d been accused of.
And the accusation had damn well ruined his life. Taken his credibility, taken the only thing he’d ever cared about.
Barred from competition. For life.
Damn it to hell, he had to fix that. He had to prove it wasn’t his fault. All of his appeals so far had been denied. Apparently, he needed evidence. He closed his eyes and felt a cold sweat on his back, the memory of his last hearing playing through his mind, more terrifying than the times he’d stood trial in court as a teenager.
I need evidence? Show me your evidence.
This ain’t a court a law, Mr. Parker. We don’t need evidence. All these men here, bein’ of sound mind, have come to a unanimous decision based on the testimony of Mr. Cade Mitchell.
He opened his eyes again and looked around at the cabin. Things were definitely starting to come together. A whole lot of things.
“I’m going to have a little job for you coming up, Sam,” he said.
“Oh, really?” The other man straightened and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“You and Jill, actually.”
Sam’s expression tightened. “All right.”
“I’m going to send you on all-expenses-paid vacation to Elk Haven Stables.”
“That’s the Mitchell ranch, yeah?”
“Yessir. If Cade Mitchell has exaggerated his injuries in any way, it will be pretty clear pretty quick. If I show my face over there, he won’t drop his guard.”
“I thought you wanted him to know you were here.”
“I do. And he will. But he doesn’t need to know you work for me. And on his ranch he’s bound to be relaxed. Just for the first week, at least, I want you and Jill there pretending you’re on an anniversary trip.”
“Won’t we need a reservation?”
“You have one. Mark called it in.”
“He’s a helpful sumbitch, ain’t he?”
Sam was obviously irritated with the directive, but Quinn couldn’t figure out why. A little all-expenses-paid alone time with his wife should make Sam happy. Although, Quinn couldn’t see the appeal, personally, since he had no intention of ever having a wife. Though Jill was a nice enough woman. Not his biggest fan, but he did monopolize a lot of her husband’s time, and even more of it since Sam had been in Silver Creek helping him get things together.
“Yes, he is. He’s also arranged a contract for me that will prove very useful indeed.”
“Aw, shit, man, what did you do?” The lines on Sam’s face looked more drawn.
“You say that like you think I did something bad, buddy. I think I’m offended.”
“Did you?”
“Depends on your perspective.”
Sam shook his head and pulled his cell phone out of the front pocket of his shirt. “I’ll have to call Jill and see if she’s up for this. Otherwise it’ll be me staying in that cabin by myself, looking like a nut job.”
“Mark might be willing to come down and stay with you.”
Sam flipped him off on his way out of the room, grumbling as he dialed his wife.
Quinn braced himself on the counter, palms flat on the granite surface. Yeah, he was pretty sure Sam would think what he’d done was a very bad thing.
Cade would think so too.
And that made Quinn feel nothing but good. Because Lark Mitchell had signed a contract to come and work for him for the next six weeks.
It was a good thing to keep your enemies close. But it was better to keep their little sisters closer.
Because there was nothing on God’s green earth that would piss Cade off more than having Lark in close proximity to Quinn. Like sending your lamb to bunk with a wolf.
Quinn smiled and pushed off from the counter. Oh, yeah, if Cade Mitchell had secrets, Quinn would find them. If Cade had a weakness, Quinn would damn well exploit it.
Quinn Parker was mean when he was pissed. And Cade had sure as hell pissed him off.
***
“Die, zombie bastards! Die!” Lark took another sip of her Rockstar and set it back down on her desk, clicking her mouse button furiously and unleashing a a hellish rain of shotgun fire on the army of undead monsters schlepping their way across her computer screen.
Today she was starting her new job, and she was determined to start it right. Some people chanted little mantras about their personal success and being good enough and smart enough. Lark just wanted to blow the hell out of Nazi zombies.
And of course she’d had an energy drink, the breakfast of gaming champions. She was ready to take on her new job as head tech goddess of the Longhorn Ranch, part of the Longhorn Properties family.
She fought the urge to crush her can against her head like a frat boy. Mainly she resisted because she’d tried it once and had succeeded only in smacking herself in the head, but also, she was self-conscious enough to know what a douche move that was.
She pushed away from her desk, the chair rolling smoothly across the floor, then she stood up, brushing her hands over her black pants and black top. It was her most professional outfit: a button-up shirt and some dress pants. She looked a little like she was ready to wait tables at the local diner, but hey, she was used to working at home and rocking jeans and t-shirts.
But this was a real job with a contract, and she wasn’t doing that. She walked out of her bedroom and out into the hallway that overlooked the main living area of the house.
Crossbeams made from logs ran across the vaulted ceiling, and a panel of windows took up the whole far wall, giving a view of the family ranch. Their legacy. The only thing they had left of their parents.
Lark took a deep breath and continued on down the stairs. She still felt the sadness of losing them like a weight on her chest. She’d grown used to it resting there; she didn’t think it had ever gotten any lighter.
It was hard for her to remember her mom, which was its own kind of pain. But their dad? She remembered everything. The way he smelled, the way he laughed, the way he talked. He was gruff, but he was loving. And sometimes she wanted to ask him a question, or just tell him about her day, so bad that the realization she couldn’t was like having a hole punched in her chest.
Even after six years. It seemed so much longer and so much shorter at the same time.
Cole walked out of the kitchen just as she descended into the living area. “Hi,” she said.
“Where are you headed?”
“Uhm . . . I have a job to go to.”
“An interview?”
“No, like an actual job. I got the job already.”
“You what?”
“I got the job already.”
“When?”
“Like a month ago,” she mumbled, looking down at her black shoes.
“And you didn’t . . . tell us?”
“Well . . . here’s the thing, Cole . . .”
“Who are you working for?”
“Longhorn Properties? They just bought a ranch out here for—”
“Well, who the hell is that? That name is supposed to mean something to me? How do you even know it’s legitimate?”
“Google-fu.”
“What?”
“I have mad Google skills, which, in this case, means I typed it into a search engine and got information,” she said dryly. “And this is why I didn’t tell you.”
“Because you could Google it you didn’t tell me? How the hell am I supposed to check this . . . company, guy, whatever, out?”
“Not because I could Google it, Cole; because you’re an overprotective nut job who would dress me in a roll of bubble wrap before I went anywhere if you could. Because you think it’s your job to check this out for me, when I can do it for myself.”
“And?”
“Legit. Cattle ranch in Texas, dairy up north. Lots of things that are dusty and involve farm implements. I have no reason to fear what I’m walking into.”
“But I . . . I . . .”
“I know. I know. But Cole, why don’t you channel some of your overprotective angst into imagining how you’ll deal with Maddy’s first dates, huh?”
“Since he’s never had to deal with one of yours.” Cade walked out of the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. “Because you’ve never had one.” He continued on by and out the front door. She shot a dirty sneer at his retreating figure and then turned back to Cole.
“Worry about him,” she said. “He needs . . . something. Focus, direction. He’s just a snarly, sarcastic buttmonkey and he’s starting to piss me off. He’s around all the time.”
“He does live here.”
“And I don’t really think he should.”
“It’s the family ranch. You live here.”
“But you don’t share control,” she said. “I don’t want it. I want a cave filled with computers. I don’t want to ride the range, or whatever. Cade, on the other hand, would probably appreciate a little more control.”
“Like I’d give it to him.”
“My point exactly. Anyway, since you and Cade clearly have things to talk about . . .” She turned and headed for the door.
“Nice try. We’ll walk about this later.”
She turned back to face him. “I love you, Cole. You’ve been the best big brother ever. You took care of me . . . You’ve just always taken care of me. After mom died. And then even more after dad died. But you have Kelsey and you have Maddy. And I’m twenty-two. I don’t need you to be so . . . on all the time.”
He shifted uncomfortably, pushing his hat back on his head. “I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. But I love you,” he said, “and your safety and well-being are really important to me. Just because I have Kelsey . . . it doesn’t change that. I love my wife, but you’re my sister. And you’ll always be . . . that little girl who blew her nose on my t-shirt when she cried.”
“Oh . . . Cole . . .” She let out a breath. “I really do appreciate that. And I love you too. But . . . you have to let me do stuff for myself. We’ll consider this in baby steps. Starting with a ranch that’s a fifteen-minute drive away.”
“Please tell your employer you have two bothers who own many guns between them.”
“I will.” She wouldn’t. But she didn’t really think Cole wanted her to. Well . . . he probably did, but he would know she couldn’t.
“And next time tell me what you’re up to. Not to get permission or anything; just because I like knowing what’s up with you.”
“Okay.”
“Kelsey says you might have someone in your life?” he asked, his voice getting a little nervous.
“Turncoat,” Lark muttered.
“I have ways of making her talk.”
Lark made a face. “I bet. Okay, really, really I’m going to work now, and no, I’m not telling you anything about the absence or presence of my love life. And in return, you don’t need to tell me about yours. Really. I’m good.”
He arched a brow. “Go.”
“Am.” She turned and walked out of the house, clomping down the steps and jogging across the graveled driveway area toward where she parked her little car.
Black, with crank windows and a tape deck. The thing was older than she was, and she loved it. The fabric on the ceiling had started to bow in, and she’d put it back up with tacks she’d shaped into constellations. It also had a sketchy heating system, which meant she had to drive with gloves and a scarf sometimes.
Cole hated it. He wanted to buy her something else. Something safe. She had a feeling he’d buy her a tank if he could.
But she liked her car that she’d bought with her own money six years ago, and she wasn’t going to let Cole have a say in it. Just like he didn’t get a say over where she worked.
She knew some of it was her own fault. She liked the security she got living on the ranch, living with Cole and Cade. Being surrounded by family. But she needed her freedom too.
It was a little contradictory, and she knew it. She laughed a little bit while she turned the key in the ignition and shifted into first. “Why can’t he just read my mind and make sure things are exactly how I want them?” she asked the empty car interior.
She let out a breath. With any luck, her new job would help her get the little bit of distance she needed, and a little more respect from both of her bothers.
She knew what she was doing. They just had to trust her.
“Hello?” Lark poked her head into the empty living area of the massive house. There was no furniture yet, and her voice echoed off the honey-colored logs that made up the walls of the structure.
The air smelled sweet. Like sawdust and lingering smoke from recent cuts made into wood. Everything was clean, ready to be moved into. Except there was nobody around.
She waffled in the entryway, not sure if she should go in or wait at the threshold. It was a house, so normally she would wait. But it was a not-yet-moved-into house, which made it feel different. More like public domain.
“Can I help you?”
She turned around and her stomach took a free fall into her toes. Standing there, shirtless and in snug, low-slung jeans, his chest covered in sweat and dirt, was the single most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life.
No, “beautiful” was the wrong word. He wasn’t beautiful. That implied softness. There was no softness there. His angular face, shaded by the brim of his black cowboy hat, was all hard-cut lines. Sharp cheekbones, a square jaw. Rock-solid pecs and defined abs, partly concealed by a bit of dark chest hair over golden-brown skin. No, there was nothing soft about him.
And on him, the big belt buckle, the kind she’d been so disdainful of previously, seemed to fit. Seemed to draw her eyes down to a very interesting place on his body.
Ahem.
Her eyes drifted to his shoulder next, to the intricate design that was inked there, spreading down his bicep. A black-and-white outline of a warhorse, shrouded partly in what might have been the dust kicked up by its hooves.
Well, frick. There went her whole “not interested in looking at boring old cowboys” line. Because he was most definitely a cowboy. And she was most definitely looking.
And then she looked back at his face again and a feeling of familiarity trickled through her. A spark of recognition, and she wasn’t sure why. Wasn’t sure from where.
He started to walk toward her, removing his hat as he did, and the feeling that she should know him intensified.
“I’m here about the job,” she said. “Lark Mitchell.”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. Surprise? Maybe he hadn’t realized how young she was.
He looked her over, his expression assessing, then he wiped his hands on his jeans and extended one for a handshake. “Then I’m your new boss. Quinn Parker. Nice to meet you.”
And suddenly all of the pieces locked into place.
Quinn Parker.
From the circuit.
She’d seen his picture in graphics on TV during televised events. She’d even seen him ride. And she’d rooted hard against him, her allegiance of course with Cade.
Quinn Parker. The asshole who was responsible for her brother being unable to ride. For his limp. For his pain.
His constant, barely tolerable pain.
Rage washed through her, a torrent of boiling water that started in her chest and rolled outward, flooding her face with heat.
“Quinn . . . Parker?” she bit out.
He flashed her a smile, teeth bright white against his tan skin. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Yeah, your name came up a few times when my brother was recovering in a hospital bed, so badly broken doctors weren’t sure he’d ever walk without assistance again. So yeah, I’ve heard of you. And now I’ll be leaving.”
She slammed the door to the cabin and started to walk away, shaking with rage.
“I don’t think you’ll be leaving,” he said, his tone easy, with a thread of steel running through the words.
“And why is that? Are you going to hold me hostage?” She crossed her arms and cocked out her hip, then realized that he might very well intend to hold her hostage. She didn’t know how crazy the bastard was. By all accounts, he’d sabotaged her brother’s ride and critically injured him, ending his career, all for a little prize money.
That was its own brand of crazy, and she realized she honestly didn’t know what else he might do.
“Hardly, but you sort of put yourself in a hostage situation, if you want to call it that.”
“Meaning?”
“You signed a contract for this job.”
“I was misled.”
“How?”
“I . . . you . . . I didn’t know it was you.”
“It’s not me. Well, I own Longhorn, so it is. But I also have investors, et cetera, so it’s not only me. And the contract you signed was with Longhorn. There’s nothing misleading about that.”
“But you knew it was me,” she said. “I didn’t know it was you.”
“I needed someone here in Silver Creek to help me get this operation going, and you were the only name that came up. I could have brought someone in, but that would have been pointless.”
“I can’t even look at you, much less work with you.”
“You better get used to both, honey, because whether you like the idea of working for me or not, you signed the contract. Six weeks, and unless I somehow don’t fulfill my end of the bargain, which is to pay you for your work, which I will do, you have no right to renege on it.”
“But I . . . I don’t . . .”
“And the fines for reneging on the contract are hefty. Or do you not remember that section of the contract you signed only a month ago?”
Yes. She remembered. And she’d ignored it and blithely signed anyway. Because she could get out of the contract if there was misconduct or a failure to pay, so she’d felt safe signing it. Had felt like there was no way it could go wrong.
Well, it had gone wrong. It had gone wrong in the shape of a tattooed bastard who had ruined her brother’s life.
“I can’t work for you.”
“You can’t work for me? Because you think I ruined your brother’s career. Well, as much as I know I should just save my breath, I’ll tell you right now, I didn’t touch your brother’s damned horse.”
“He says you did.”
“Knew I should have saved my breath. Regardless, I didn’t. And you can’t get out of our agreement, so you might as well just go ahead and believe my version. At least for the next six weeks.”
“I can’t do that,” she said. “And you deliberately concealed your identity. Do you deny that?”
“Hell no. I’m a shady bastard. I didn’t cause Cade’s accident, but I didn’t say I was an angel.”
“I can’t believe this.” Cade would be so pissed. And Cole . . . Cole would think this just confirmed that he needed to be the one in charge of her decision-making.
She thought back to the way she’d felt at the wedding, how she’d felt like she was finally moving forward. Like she was finally getting somewhere with her life and her career. And now she just wanted to laugh hollowly at the bitter irony of it all.
She’d made the choice to step out, and she’d made a big-ass mistake.
“You’ll hardly see me,” he said. “I have actual ranch work to do, and I’m not overly concerned with the computer stuff. That’s your domain, not mine.”
“It’s a conflict of interest,” she said.
He smiled—slow, dangerous, and damned if it wasn’t a little bit . . . seductive. It made her stomach feel tight. Made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. “What do you think I’ll do to you? You think the big bad wolf is going to eat you?”
“I’m not some limp fairy-tale character. If you try to touch me, I’ll mace your ass, do you get it?” she asked, not feeling half the confidence she was attempting to exude. No, inside she felt like Jell-O.
He chuckled, a low, rolling sound that stoked the heat inside of her. The angry heat. It was angry heat. That was all it was. She couldn’t feel anything else for the man who’d been responsible for Cade’s injuries, and no matter what Quinn said, she knew he was.
Cade was certain, the Rodeo Association was certain. So much so that they’d banned Quinn from competing for life. Cade had been triumphant over that. An eye for an eye. He couldn’t ride in competition anymore because of his physical limitations. And now? Now Quinn couldn’t either.
“You’re welcome to try,” he said.
She frowned. He wasn’t taking her threats very seriously. Maybe she should mace him and get herself fired.
“And now you’re thinking of ways to get yourself fired,” he said, crossing his broad arms over his chest. “I’m not going to do that. Too easy. Don’t forget, I knew who you were.”
“So what? You’re just here to poke the hornet’s nest?”
“Hell no. I’m here to get this ranch started, to give these boys a new start on life. I want the best thing for them, and that means the best computer system, since we will be continuing some schooling here, even over the summer. You were the best this town had to offer, and I hired you. For good money. Not only that, once the project gets rolling, you’re going to be able to get some good publicity for yourself. You could end up with a serious business on your hands. A little independence.”
How did he know she wanted that? How? What voodoo magic did this guy possess?
“At what cost?” she asked.
“A lot less than if you walk away from the contract.”
Either way she was screwed. If she confessed the situation she’d landed herself in, any respect she’d hoped to earn by landing the job would be nullified. But if she took it she would be shaking hands with the devil, and she wasn’t all that excited about the possibility.
“This ranch, this is really for what you said?” she asked. “For troubled youth?”
“You read the press release, didn’t you? My hiring manager was supposed to send you all the info.”
“While leaving your name out, right?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Well, yes, he sent it to me.”
“It’s real. I have fifteen boys showing up in two weeks to start getting on the road to rehabilitation. They’ve all been in different types of trouble. A couple of them are going to require the presence of their parole officers. Some of them haven’t made it that far down the road yet, and I aim to redirect them.”
“Isn’t this a little bit like a sick person offering antibiotics to everyone but himself?” she asked.
He arched a dark brow. “Maybe I’ve reformed.”
She didn’t think so. The man exuded darkness. Danger. From his muscles to the ink on his skin, there was nothing safe or reformed about him.
“I sort of doubt it,” she said.
“Either way, I’m getting this ranch going, and then I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going to go?”
He shrugged. “Back to Texas, maybe.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from Texas.”
“Shucks,” he drawled. “I don’t?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m not, but it’s currently the place I call home.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I used to live on the road, but for some reason, I don’t seem to anymore. Could be because I can’t do my damned job anymore because a pissed-off injured jackass pointed his finger at the first person he could think of.”
His words hit Lark hard, anger burning hotter in her. “Oh, really? Is that how you see it?”
“Yeah, honey, that’s how I see it. If there’s one thing I know, it’s this. Cade will never be a hundred percent certain of who did this to him. Without a confession or video evidence, which there isn’t at this point, he’ll never know for sure. But I know for a fact what I did and didn’t do. I’m the only one who knows for sure if I’m guilty or innocent. And I’m innocent.” Something changed in his eyes, a cold hardness there she hadn’t seen before. “In this instance, anyway.”
“Your word against Cade’s,” she said.
“Or not, because he could be wrong. Granted, I could be lying, but again, I’m the only one with certainty. I’m also the one that’s either going to pay you thousands of dollars or fine you thousands of dollars, and trust me, I would love to watch Cade Mitchell have to write me a check to bail his baby sister out of trouble, so at this point, it’s up to you and I can’t lose. You can, though. So think about it real carefully.”
Lark bit her lip, holding back an angry flood of words until she was sure she could speak without spitting. “Where are the computers?”
***
Quinn walked in front of Lark on the narrow path that led to the building where the computers were housed. By and large, the boys would be doing online courses throughout the year, and they’d set up the entire classroom in a large building at the edge of the property.
Longhorn Ranch was laid out a lot like a camp. There was a lake on the property, and Quinn was having docks installed. He’d also ordered canoes, of all things. By the woods they had an obstacle course. Something to run off any excess energy. And something to make them do for hours at a time if the little bastards copped too much attitude.
Lord knew he wished someone would have done it for him.
It had surprised him how much he’d enjoyed getting the place ready. No one could ever accuse him of being nurturing. But when it came to knowing what a bunch of punks needed to get their asses in shape—that he knew.
Because he’d been there. He’d been that kid that might have gone off the rails if he hadn’t been given focus. When he’d been forced to work for his food, well, then he’d learned real quick that he had to focus. That he had to stop being so amused with his own badassedness and get his act together or he’d damn well starve.
And then he’d found the rodeo. He’d had incentive to do right for real then. He’d started as one of the guys who opened the gates, doing hard labor for no glory. But eventually, he’d saved up, purchased his permit and won the required events to become a card holder.
That had meant the world to him. It was something he carried in his wallet still. Thirteen years on. It was faded, it was old, but it was his. Something he’d earned. Something he’d never imagined would be taken away from him.
But it had been. For no reason other than that Cade Mitchell hated his guts and he’d been a convenient target for the other man to point a finger at. Either because of anger, or to keep people from looking too closely at him.
All Quinn knew was that he wouldn’t let it stand. He would get absolution by any means necessary. He’d had one place in life he’d fit. And no, he hadn’t had a hell of a lot of friends, and clearly the board wasn’t a crew of his biggest fans, but he’d had his place.
Not anymore.
With any luck, Sam would find some evidence to knock Mitchell on his ass. Failing that . . . failing that, there was the girl.
He’d been surprised when he’d seen her standing there. Surprised by how attractive she was. Oh, she wasn’t a bleached blond with a plastic rack and a belly-baring top, which was a type he often ended up in bed with, since they were the kind of women who hung out looking to pick up cowboys of ill repute.
But Lark had a kind of . . . natural beauty to her. Something fresh and almost sweet. A softness—and it wasn’t just in her enticing figure. Though she looked soft in that way too. Not in a negative way, but like a woman should be. Full breasts that were the gift of God and not of a surgeon’s hand. A trim waist and rounded hips.
Soft, pale skin. Glossy brown hair.
Everywhere a man touched her, he would be reminded that she was a woman.
Yes, her beauty had been a shock.
“Through here,” he said, pushing open a door that led to one of the large outbuildings. It was more rough-hewn in looks than the main house. Wood left natural, unfinished. There were chairs in the front room, and desks, and through the entryway, into the back, there was a big room with tables that were, for now, empty. And the wall was lined with boxes. Computer boxes. “And this is where you can start.”
“Nothing is even plugged in,” she said.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I figured you could handle most of it. It is what you’re being paid to do, after all. Get everything set up. Start with opening the boxes.”
She gave him an evil glare. “Really? Seems outside of my jurisdiction.”
“Until you form a union, I’m not going to worry much about that.”
“I could use the boxes to make some protest signs.”
“I think going on strike might be considered a violation of your contract, in which case, I’ll be knocking on your brother’s door and asking him to help settle up your debts.”
“Okay,” she said, hands planted on shapely hips. “Let’s get one thing straight here and now. This is between you and me.”
He almost laughed. Of course it wasn’t between the two of them. It never had been. He would have hired the guy who’d set up his ranch in Texas if he hadn’t seen an opportunity to get a foothold in Cade’s world via his much-doted-on sister.
Now, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do with her, but the fact that he had her, at his mercy in many ways, for the next six weeks was enough for now.
“Sure,” he said, instead of voicing the truth. “But if that’s the case, it cuts both ways. This is between you and me, and Cade has nothing to do with it.”
“That’s not . . . I can’t . . .”
“Then I can’t.”
“If I default on the contract, Cole and Cade have nothing to do with it. I don’t want you showing up at their door and making my problems their problems.”
“You strike me as the kind of girl who hasn’t had very many problems, honey. And I bet the ones you have had were taken care of by daddy or by your brothers.”
“Oh, you think that?” she asked, one delicate brow arching. “You don’t have anything but hair under that hat, do you, cowboy?”
“Don’t tell me your brothers wouldn’t jump to protect you if you needed it.”
“Sure they would. But you have no idea what I’ve been through. Don’t make assumptions.”
“Is that any way to talk to your boss?”
“You gonna fire me? Because then you can’t hold anything over my head.”
“Nope. Not going to fire you.”
“What do you want?” she asked. “Because no matter what you say, I don’t believe any of this has to do with me being awesome at tech and you wanting to pick up someone local. I don’t even think it’s a coincidence you’re here.”
“It doesn’t concern you, because as you just pointed out, what happens here is between you and me, and no one else. Why I’m here? Not your damn business.”
Her dark brown eyes assessed him, her brows drawn tightly together. She didn’t trust him. She was smart. And he was going to have to work hard to get past that. Because she shouldn’t trust him.
But it was in his best interest that she did.
“Fine. I’m just going to be your tech monkey. Oooh ooh ah ah. Get me a freaking box cutter and I’ll get to work.”
He walked over to the counter that lined the back of the room and riffled through a box that was sitting on top of it, digging for her requested item. He walked over to where she was standing and held out the cutter, the blade not extended.
She took it from him and pressed the button, pushing the blade up. Then she bent down and sliced the top of the first box. “All-in-one,” she said. “Sweet. Unless you need to pull one apart to repair it. Easy to set up, though, so I won’t complain.”
“Maybe I should return them and get something that will challenge you.”
“Don’t you have horses to shoe? Cattle to prod? Lives to ruin?”
“Am I ruining yours a little by standing here? If so, I think I might just hang out.”
“No. I find your presence therapeutic. You’re a living, breathing, shirtless Zen fountain.”
“Then maybe I’ll stay.”
