by Maisey Yates
He had to hold on to it. But for now, he would hold on to her too.
Chapter Fifteen
“Uh-oh,” Jill said, leaning back on the bed and looking at Sam. “He told her?”
“Yeah, he did. And she’s still here.”
“Really?”
“As far as I know he told her everything, and last I talked to him he said he told her to go home, and he expected her to have done it. But I saw her car parked over by the barn. She’s still here.”
“That’s because she loves him,” Jill said. “It’s harder to fall out of love than you think.”
“And it’s more work to stay in it than you think too,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her on the lips. “Not an insult.”
“I get that. I disagree though.”
“Really?”
“I was never out of love with you, Sam. I just forgot to take the time to feel it.”
“I forgot to take the time to show it.”
“You’ve been showing me admirably these last couple of weeks.”
He pulled her into his arms, against his body. It felt right. Only Sam had ever felt right like this. And she didn’t know why she’d let herself forget. Why she’d let herself take it for granted. She’d never been passive, not in the early days of their relationship. But somehow, she’d stopped telling him what she needed.
They’d both retreated to their own corners, little balls of hurt, and neither of them had bothered to communicate. Neither of them had even tried.
Thank God they were trying now.
“I love you,” he said, like he’d said every day since they’d first started reconciling.
“I love you too,” she said. “My heart kind of breaks for these boys. Especially Jake.”
“I know,” he said.
She bit her lip. “He doesn’t have anyone.”
“I don’t know if I like where this is going.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just found you again. I just stopped being consumed with other things. I don’t really want to add a high-maintenance kid to the mix.”
She didn’t like what he’d just said, but at least he’d said it. A few weeks ago she would have gotten a grunt. A non-response that told her nothing and left her feeling ignored at best.
“I don’t either. But I don’t want to leave him alone. And he . . . he calls to me.”
“Jill . . . he’s not a puppy. He’s a teenage boy who’s had brushes with the law.”
“I know,” she said. “But you could handle him.”
“Colton and Callie were good. I never had to deal with teenage rebellion.”
“That we knew of.”
“What I don’t know won’t make me go after a boy with a shotgun,” Sam said.
“True.”
“Just tell me, are you wanting to take him on as a project because you don’t like only having me?”
Her heart squeezed tight. “No. And I know I kind of earned that. I know I spent too long pouring it all into the kids, and none into you . . .”
“No,” he said. “I mean, maybe sometimes I felt that way. But you’re a good mom. And you can’t take all the blame for what happened with us.”
“No worries,” she said. “I wasn’t going to. Okay, the timing isn’t great. But he’s sixteen. No one else is going to take him. And think how much support Colton and Callie still need. He’s going to need that too. He isn’t going to have it, he’s never really had it and that kills me.”
Sam sighed, heavy, defeated. “This is what I love about you,” he said.
“What is?”
“Your heart. I mean, and your body.”
“Oh . . . Sam, please. I’m not exactly a spring chicken.”
“Don’t care. I don’t have any use for spring chickens. Give me a woman who knows what she’s doing and is comfortable in her skin. That’s real sex appeal. That and the way you care about people.”
“But you don’t like the way I want to care.”
“Not really. But it’s hard for me to imagine right now, babe.”
“I like that,” she said, letting her hand drift across his chest.
“What?”
“Babe. It’s hot.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked.
“Would it work?”
“Yes.”
She laughed, warmth blooming in her stomach. She felt like a teenager with a crush. Or a forty-three year old woman with a crush on her husband. Even disagreeing, she felt that way.
“It’s a big thing, I know,” she said. “And I don’t expect you to just be able to give me an answer immediately.”
“I know,” he said. “But the thing is, I don’t want to think about it, because I have a feeling you’re right. That he needs to be taken care of. That he needs someone. And right now, I feel too selfish. I don’t want it to be me because I just want to spend my days wrapped in your arms.”
“Yeah, but at some point we go back to real life, right?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“And we have jobs and friends, and we can’t spend all day wrapped in each other. But that’s the challenge, Sam. To remember to want all that even with all of these other things going on. To not repeat the same mistakes.”
He cupped her face and kissed her lips. “I don’t ever want to work you around my life again. Life has to work itself around you. You’re my priority. In fact”—Sam released his hold on her and got out of bed, then went over to the chair his jacket was sitting on—“I wrote some stuff down.”
“Sam, what did you do?”
“You’ll see.” He pulled a folded piece of paper out of the pocket. “I’ve failed you a lot, Jill, these last few years. There are things I didn’t say, and I should have just said them. But I took for granted that you knew. That somehow you could read how much I cared, even when I wasn’t saying it. Or showing it.”
“I wasn’t either . . . I—”
“No. This is my time to eat dirt and grovel,” he said. “And to make some new vows. I vowed to love you on our wedding day, and I do. To stay with you through sickness and in health, and I have. Richer and poorer, we’ve done that too. But there are a lot of little things that I never thought to promise. Things I should have promised, because maybe if I had, I would have been a better husband for all these years.”
Jill sat up, her heart pounding hard, tears stinging her eyes. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“I might make me cry,” he said, clearing his throat, “but I’ll try not to.” He unfolded the paper, his hands shaking. “Jill, I promise not just to love you, but to tell you I love you. I promise to give you romance, not just sex. I promise to tell you how beautiful I think you are, every time the thought comes into my head, which is a lot. I promise to remember that you come first. That nothing is as important as you. To remember that if you weren’t in my life, there would be no meaning. I promise to stop taking you for granted. To cherish your every smile, and hurt whenever you shed a tear. I promise to make the next twenty-three years better than the first twenty-three.”
She launched herself off of the bed and into his arms, not even bothering to fight the tears. “Sam,” she whispered, her face buried in his neck, “these past twenty-three years have been wonderful, and I let myself grow resentment when I should have just told you what I needed. You don’t shoulder the blame. I have a share in it. And I have a share in making this better going forward.” She stepped back and looked into his eyes. “I promise to tell you I love you. I promise to give you good sex, and not just a cranky afterthought with the lights off. I promise to tell you what I need, instead of making you guess. I promise to wear sexy underwear sometimes.”
“I like where this is going,” he said, his voice rough.
“I don’t want to forget again.�
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“I won’t let you.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her. “I won’t let me either. And . . . I promise, I will think about Jake. I feel possessive and selfish right now.”
“Which is hot, by the way.”
“You think I’m hot?”
“Oh, baby.”
“Anyway, I feel possessive, but the thing is, you’re right. There will always be real life, and the key isn’t pushing it away, it’s learning how to prioritize us even when it’s trying to intrude.”
“Listen to us having reasonable discourse.”
“Nice, right?” He scooped her up in his arms, walked them back to the bed and deposited them both in the center of it. “Now, if these walls are thin, people might be hearing us having something else.”
“Promises, promises.”
“I’ll make good on all of my promises,” he kissed her, deep and long. “You can count on that.”
Chapter Sixteen
The next week was problematic. Because the ax was closer to falling on their relationship, and Lark had only fallen more in love with Quinn.
Because she slept in his arms every night, ate breakfast with him every morning. She even watched TV on the couch with him, curled up against him, her head rested on his chest. And he held her hand when they walked places on the ranch.
He suddenly didn’t seem to care so much about keeping them a secret. But then, the boys had proved that they responded well to him. Despite a bit of grumbling, Quinn was a big hero to all of them. As was Sam.
Guys who were tough, worked hard and had money and success—and all without serving jail time. Well, without serving jail time recently.
Lark put her elbow on the table and took another bite of her dinner and listened to everyone talk. The staff and all the boys were sharing dinner tonight. Except Jill and Sam, who were eating in their cabin.
“Did I tell you guys about the time I got arrested for robbing a convenience store?” Quinn asked.
“You robbed a store?” This came from Mike.
“Yep. I grabbed the cash drawer while the cashier’s back was turned,” Quinn said. “Do you know why?”
“Why?” Jake asked.
“Because I was an asshole. I thought life owed me something, I don’t know what. So I was walking around with a chip on my shoulder just begging to be put in my place. And I did get put in my place. Jail. Which is a terrible thing, by the way, for those of you who haven’t been.”
“And how did you get here?” Jake asked, looking down at his plate. “I mean . . . I’m curious how you went from that to . . . you own all this and you were in the rodeo.”
“Hard work. And more than that, finding a goal that I was working toward. But this is the second part of my cautionary tale. I did a lot of stupid things when I was young, and some of you have done things just as stupid. Some of you haven’t yet, but you’re headed that way. I don’t ride in the rodeo anymore,” Quinn said. “I’m barred from it. Because I was accused of something. Something I didn’t do. But when you look into my past, I have legal evidence that says I’m the kind of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to break the law to benefit himself. The prejudice follows you. And it burns worse when it’s prejudice you’ve earned.”
Mike shrugged. “So, I’ve been arrested. You’re saying I’ll always have a harder time?”
“Maybe, but not as hard as if you keep being stupid. You have time to turn it around. But the choices you make now will affect you, I’m not going to lie about that. Also think hard about getting tattoos.”
“Too late for that too,” Mike said.
“Yeah, well, for me too.”
“But you look like you do okay,” Mike said, looking around.
“Yeah, I do okay.”
And with that, Lark was officially done for. As if she hadn’t been already. It hurt. To love him so much. Especially when she knew he loved himself so little.
Quinn didn’t think he meant a thing without the rodeo. He’d attached all of his value to it. And he had so much to give with just him. Without the fame, without the acclaim. But he didn’t see it. And she didn’t know how to make him.
Except by taking him as he was. Even with all the rough edges and the self-loathing and the plans for getting revenge on her family. And that was a lot to take. But wrapped up in all that somewhere was Quinn Parker. Her lover, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
She felt like she was doing battle against the chains that were wrapped around his wrists. Manacles that held him back and kept him from moving forward.
“Eat up,” Quinn said. “Because you’re all on clean-up crew tonight.”
This was met with a slew of swearing and the show of several middle fingers. Quinn never got on them about that stuff, as long as they did what he and the other staffers asked. It was one thing she admired about him.
He didn’t ask for blind obedience or for them to be happy about doing the work, so long as they did it. He wasn’t trying to protect them from things they’d already seen. Wasn’t trying to smooth every rough edge. Quinn had his own rough edges, and she loved those too. They were part of what made him who he was.
When the table was cleared and the boys were in the kitchen with Kevin and Maggie, Quinn took her hand in his and pulled her in for a kiss.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he said.
“And I’ve been wanting you to do it,” she said.
“Want to take a walk with me?”
“Are you leading me down the garden path, sir?”
“Is that fancy talk for leading you into the woods so I can take your panties off?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“Then hell yeah, I’m leading you down that garden path.”
“Lead faster.” He took her hand and they walked out of the mess hall and into the warm evening. Lark breathed in deeply, the sweet scent of pending summer filling her lungs. “Beautiful,” she said.
“Yeah. I’ll be kind of sad to leave it.”
“Then don’t,” she said.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I have to. When I get reinstated I’ll be traveling again, competing.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Not an option.”
“Why not?”
“Because I . . . It’s not what I want, Lark.”
“And in life you’re guaranteed to get everything you want?” she asked, reaching out and taking his other hand in hers. “Quinn, what if you never get back into the circuit?”
“I have to.”
“But what if you don’t?”
“I can’t even think about that.”
“Why?” she asked. “Would it be so bad? Does it matter so much?”
“It’s everything I am, Lark. Everything good that I am. I know how I am, and without a goal . . . without a goal and without people watching . . . what keeps me from becoming what I was? A drunk petty criminal with nothing to offer life.”
“You would never be that again. Did you listen to yourself talking to those boys?”
“Talk is easy,” he said, his voice rough.
“It’s not just talk though, Quinn, it’s your life. It’s what you’ve lived.”
“It doesn’t look like a lot to me.”
“Really? You’re a dumbass, do you know that?”
“Oh, really?” He leaned toward her. “Tell me about what a dumbass I am, little girl.”
She pulled him toward her, planting a kiss on his lips. “Don’t ‘little girl’ me. I might be younger than you, and I might be less experienced in . . . everything. But I’m a lot less screwed up than you are.”
“You think?”
“Yes. And you know what I see? I see a man who has a lot of money, a lot of appeal, and a lot to offer the world. But I also see a man who can’t make use of any o
f his resources to their fullest extent because he’s too busy licking his wounds.”
“Is that what you think? What do you know about any of it?”
“A lot, Quinn. I know a lot. I know what it’s like to lose people you love, and dammit, I even lost the memory of the father I loved. The way I knew him . . . none of it’s true. It hurts. It sucks.”
“At least they wanted you.”
“Yeah. I’m not going to say you don’t have a uniquely sucky situation, but that doesn’t mean you get to be all damaged for the rest of your life.”
He shrugged. “I’m over it.”
“Liar.” She caught herself poking her index finger into his chest, and she couldn’t be bothered to stop. “You are not over it. You’re controlled by it.”
He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her up against him. “Says the girl who showed up at my house for sex because she was pissed at her brothers.”
She looked up at him, his dark eyes glittering. “And because I wanted you.”
“Still, I’d be careful not to fall down off my high horse there, darlin’. You’re pretty controlled by the crap you’ve been through too.”
“I was,” she said. “But not so much now.”
He leaned in closer, his nose nearly touching hers. “Really?”
“I already told you, I used to be afraid of my shadow. Afraid to put a foot out of line.”
“And you think I’m afraid?”
She pulled out of his hold. “Yeah, I do.” She put her hands on his face. “I think you’re afraid that you aren’t good enough.”
“Baby, you really think I have an ego problem?”
“I do.”
He shook his head and pulled away. “And here I thought we were getting to know each other. I guess not.”
“Yeah, Quinn, I guess not. I thought we were sharing things with each other, but . . . we’re not really, are we?”
“Just in the biblical sense. But that’s all this was ever going to be.”
Pain stabbed her, sharp and hot. And it was stupid, because she knew, she had known, from the beginning that this wouldn’t be forever. But hearing Quinn say it stole her chance to live in denial about it.