West of Forever (Heartstone Ranch #1)(49)

Also true.

I sit up, grabbing Tristan’s sweatshirt and tossing it on. “Which leads me to my next question.”

“What is that?”

“What is your family’s version of why you hate us all so much? We’re very rational people. It must be just riddled with lies.”

He sits up on his elbows, staring at me. “Rational people? You’re serious?”

I shrug. “Obviously.”

“Lark, there’s nothing rational about a single part of your family. No offense.”

“You can’t insult me and then say ‘no offense.’ Offense taken, sir.”

He grins. “You’re adorable.”

“And you’re stalling.”

But the comment does make me smile.

He sits up fully, still completely naked. “All I know about the story is that it was over a girl.”

“Naturally. All good family rivalries start with a love story gone wrong.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. It’s a fact. According to my family, you guys did something to get back at my great-great-great-grandfather or something like that. So I’m wondering if our stories align that it was a love story.”

He shifts toward me, his hand coming to my cheek, sliding his knuckles against my skin. “And we’re just doing what then? Giving future generations more of a reason to carry on?”

I pull my lip between my teeth when he kisses my neck. “We aren’t going to do anything, because if anyone finds out, we’ll both be dead.”

He kisses me again, his hands now moving under the fabric of my—his—sweatshirt. “That would be a tragedy.”

“Agreed,” I say softly as he cups my breast.

Then I moan and swat at his hand. “You’re not giving me the story.”

“I don’t care about the story.” His thumb brushes my nipple. “Do you want to talk about our ancestors’ mistakes?”

No. I really don’t.

“I’d rather we make our own,” I say before his lips press against mine.

“Me too.”

He kisses me again, and when he moves to my neck, I whimper softly. “Tristan?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“We don’t have a lot of time before we have to get back or someone realizes we’re gone.”

“Well, I’ll have to make this quick so we make sure that no one ever finds out,” Tristan says against my lips before kissing me.

It’s good that we’re both committed to the same thing. Because if they do find out, we’ll really be fucked—without the benefit of an orgasm.





“Lark?” My mother’s voice is calling from outside the door. “Lark, honey, are you in there?”

I groan, rolling over and covering my face with the pillow. I’m half dead.

Between the multiple orgasms and the ride back from the ridge—which is a lot of work in the sun, but was really interesting at night and while a little sore from the sex—I really need sleep.

Another soft knock.

“I’m sleeping, Momma,” I call out.

She takes the answer as an invitation to enter. “Lark? What are you doing in bed? You have chores to do. You missed breakfast, and we have to go into town today.”

The chores part I knew, but I sent a text to Ryan telling him I was cashing in on one of my favors and to make sure all the horses were fed. I followed it up with an assurance that I’d make sure to do all my other duties later in the morning.

He was all too happy to have one less thing to owe me.

As for breakfast, I really could not care less.

But the part about going into town? Yeah, I have no clue what she’s talking about.

I lower the pillow. “Why do we have to go anywhere?” I ask, my throat scratchy from only—I look at the clock—three hours of sleep.

Someone please punch me until I’m unconscious.

“Well,” Momma says as she walks to the bed, sitting down. “If someone hadn’t been a sleepyhead and missed breakfast, someone would know that Carter is coming home this month.”

Oh, goodie.

Another brother who will inevitably piss me off.

I love my brothers. I really do, but Carter is that brother. You know, the one sibling you’re not really sure fits with the family. He’s smarter than all of us, which—whatever. But he acts like it makes him superior. It’s annoying. I really hate how pompous he is.

He also loves to tell us about all the amazing things he does that we’re just “not trained” to do. As if Deacon couldn’t kick his ass in shooting, running, jumping, and pretty much anything athletic.

I clear my throat and sit up a little. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is he coming home?”

Her eyes widen. “Because he misses us, that’s why. He said he’s taking some leave and wanted to come home.”

The hell he did.

Carter only comes back if it’s to benefit him. He wants something, or to gloat.

“That’s nice, Momma. Can I go back to sleep now?”

She scoffs. “Didn’t you hear me, Miss Sleepyhead? We need to go to town.”

I’m missing something. “Why do we need to go to town right now? If he’s not coming home for a few weeks, we have time. I didn’t sleep at all. I’m exhausted. I just…need to sleep.”