West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(32)

We get a few feet from the front door, and I stop. “I’m going to put you down.”

Those emerald eyes look up at me, all dreamy and soft before she lets out a sigh. “Okay. If you must.”

I laugh quietly. She’s never going to remember any of this, and I’m pretty happy about that. I know I’ll be trying to forget it too. “You need to get inside your house, and while I wouldn’t mind getting in a fight with either of your brothers, it’s probably best I get out of here before that happens.”

“Well, with your life of crime and the mitigating circumstances around things breaking or being moved on my ranch, I’d say that’s a good idea.”

“You’re saucy when you’re drunk.”

She grins. “I’m saucy when I’m sober.”

That’s true, and I think that’s what I like the most. Lark isn’t afraid of anything, and while she’s always smiling and laughing, she’s not weak.

I release her legs, dropping them so she can stand on solid ground again. Only she wobbles and tilts too fast. I grab her, steadying her and holding her shoulders. “Easy.”

“I got this. I’m a pro at drunk walking.”

“Yes, we saw that earlier.”

She turns to me, her hands resting on my chest, and I wonder whether she can feel my heart rate pick up. “I…am a great…drinker. You just don’t know about my skills. I have lots of them.”

“I bet you do.”

“I do. Many. People admire me for them.”

Fucking hell, this conversation is going to take a really bad turn, but I’m too stupid to stop myself. I nod slowly. “I see. And what are your skills?”

She leans in close, her head tilted back to look up at me with a seductive smile. Then it’s gone, and she’s staring at the sky. As if remembering she was going to say something, her green eyes meet mine. “What?” she asks.

She’s so fucking adorable. “You were going to illuminate me on all your skills.”

“Oh. Yes. I have them. All of them. The boys like them,” she explains. “Never had a single complaint. If you know what I mean.”

I know exactly what she means. I need a second to collect myself and not cup her cheeks and press my lips to hers to shut her up—and also to see if I have anything to complain about. I glance at the heavens, praying for some self-control.

I can’t kiss her.

First of all, she’s drunk.

Second, she’s Lark.

“Go inside, Lark. Take some medicine, drink another bottle of water, and sleep.”

“I can do that.”

“I’m not so sure, but I’m going to have to trust you.”

Please go now before I do something stupid.

She smiles, her breasts now brushing against my chest. “We should be friends.”

I wrap my fingers around her wrists. “Why is that?” I ask, my voice low and rough.

I’m running out of restraint.

She takes a while, her lips pursing as though she’s lost in her own head.

“Ha!” She slaps my chest. “I know one. Because I’m fun. I’m very nice. I can cook, which other people would disagree with, but I can do it. Also, I like Sadie and her chickens.”

Well, there’s that, I guess. “I see. A solid start for a friendship.”

“I agree. You’d like being friends with me.”

I don’t think I would actually. I think the fact that this girl makes my blood heat just by being close would be a bad thing. Even thinking about getting involved with Lark has more obstacles than climbing Mount Everest. So many places to lose your footing and fall. I’m better off staying far away from her.

I push her back, missing the warmth of her body against mine. “You should go inside, Lark.”

“Right now?” she asks.

“Right now.”

“Okay, but you’re missing out on my skills.”

“I’m very aware. I need you to go to bed now.” My voice is rough.

She steps closer, her hands back on the collar of my shirt, and my chest tightens.

I want her.

So fucking bad.

My hands go to her hips to push her away or pull her close—I don’t know yet. I just can’t seem to resist her.

Her eyes are swimming with desire, the two of us just staring at each other, waiting for the other to make the move. I can feel it between us, pulsing like a heartbeat in the sticky heat of the Colorado summer.

No man would be strong enough to push her away right now, so I lean in, but right as I do, the front porch light flickers on and douses the moment in cold water.

We break apart, her head whipping around to see her father standing there, a well-worn robe wrapped around him that doesn’t quite cover his midsection.

His gaze meets mine, then moves to his daughter, anger clear in his eyes.

Immediately my hands ball into fists, ready for whatever bullshit is going to come from him. “Get in the house, Lark.”

She moves toward him, her voice almost panicked. “Tristan drove me back because I drank too much.” Her father nods once. “And I fell in the driveway, so he helped me to the door.” Another nod. I’m not sure this is going well, and my presence isn’t needed. “Again, he helped me. You know…he’s being kind and all that. I know that’s not usually something we think, but I guess lightning can strike twice.”