by Kim Loraine
“Good. I’ll make sure you have her contact info before shift’s over.”
Byrne pops his head through the kitchen doorway with his brows lifted and an earnest expression on his face. “Chief, there’s a lady here from the board of the Firefighter’s Ball. She says she needs to talk to you.”
“I’ll be back. Ryker, can you finish the tour for me?”
God, why is he asking me? Probably because I’m the oldest of these guys. He’d never expect me to want to touch his daughter, let alone do the things I did to her in my bed. “Yeah, got it.”
Lark follows me as I escort her down the hall. Say something, dammit. My chest is tight, my hands are shaky, and my heart is racing. “Birdie?” is all I can manage.
“He’s called me that since I was born.”
“You didn’t mention your dad was a firefighter.”
“You didn’t mention you were a firefighter.”
Fair. “Is there anything else I don’t know?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. You’re on this crew, which means you know more about me than most people. These guys are his family. He doesn’t keep much from them.”
My mind flashes to the photos of her when she was a kid in the chief’s office. How had I not recognized her? Because she’d been a little girl in those photos. Not the beautiful woman standing next to me. “Your last name isn’t Long.”
“My parents had a complicated relationship. They didn’t get married until about five years ago. It’s a long story.”
“Seems like everything about you is a long story.”
She purses her lips and, fuck if I don’t want to kiss her and wipe that look off her face. The look that says she’s hurt. “I didn’t deliberately keep this from you, you know.” Her eyes lock on mine. “I wouldn’t have…” trailing off, she bites her lower lip and tears her gaze from me.
God, her mouth is turned down in a sexy pout. Her full lips are begging me to taste them. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
We round a corner, and I can’t help myself, I push her into the supply closet and shut us in together. Then my lips are on hers and she’s wrapping her hands around the back of my neck, giving in to me without question. She’s like a flame to gasoline, combustible and dangerous. I have to have her even if it means my world burns around me.
But she pushes me away with a soft moan and a leveled gaze. “We can’t do this, Travis.”
I lean against the wall and drag a hand through my hair. “Fuck. I know.”
“We have to just…be friendly. Can we do that?”
I don’t know. I really don’t. How can I be friends with her when I have the sounds she makes when she comes burned into my memory? Shaking my head, I put up every wall I have around my heart and push back the lust clouding my judgment.
“No. I…I can’t do that. We aren’t gonna be friends. We can be polite to one another, but if I can’t have you, and I know I can’t, then I’d just as soon not see you if I don’t have to.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she takes a shuddering breath. Instant regret hits me square in the gut at the knowledge I’ve hurt her twice in one day. I open my mouth to say something to ease the blow, but the fucking alarm blares through the house.
“I—“
“Gotta go. I know, remember? Stay safe.”
I leave her there, door slightly ajar as I walk away and hope like hell she won’t hate me for long.
Travis
Hoofbeats fill my ears, the feel of the wind in my face as Ben lopes along the strip of space between the trail and the stables making me long for the open land of Ryker Ranch and the peace of knowing I won’t see another soul if I don’t want to. This is different. Here I have to watch for other riders, for things in the path I’m not sure of. It’s like breaking in a new pair of boots. Uncomfortable, but necessary. I know Ryker Ranch like the back of my hand. This place is still unknown to me.
By the time I finish my ride, I’m sweating and breathing heavily. I don’t want to return to the real world, to this life that keeps throwing me for loop after fucking loop. After putting Ben back in his stall and feeding him a treat—he’s a sucker for apples—I grab my phone and keys off the shelf in the tack room. It takes everything I have not to search the phone’s screen for Lark’s name. Weeks without her have been hell. But we were doomed from the start.
“Travis, there you are.” I stop in my tracks at the sight of Hank and Chief Long standing outside Hank’s office door. But it’s not just the Chief with him. Lark is here. My heart twists, and a sharp pain stabs through me at the expression on her face. Apprehension. She doesn’t want to be here. She’s painfully beautiful, but her dark eyes are haunted, ringed in shadowed circles, tired. Has she not been sleeping? This isn’t the fiery woman I met. This is a ghost.
“Chief, what’s up?” I stride toward them, spurs jangling as I walk. They’re so much louder right now than usual. Why are they so loud? Like I’m fucking announcing my presence.
“Trav, you didn’t tell me you had someone for the therapy program.” Hank nods to Lark. “This little lady here is ready to work.”
Chief Long puts a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “Nothing’s helping. Her therapist agrees this is a good choice. That is…if you’re still willing?”
My heart races. I’m sure I visibly pale because my head swims. I wanted to see her, I ached to, if I’m being honest, but I’d forgotten all about my offer to work with her. Well, forgotten isn’t the right word. I’d chosen to put that out of my mind. It’s been close to three weeks since I’ve had her in my arms, since the last time we spoke. We’ve both done our best to avoid each other and it hasn’t been hard—physically. But that doesn’t help me stop seeing her every time I close my eyes.
“Trav?” Hank asks.
I clear my throat and snap out of it. “Yeah. Sure. I can…when do you want to start?”
Lark opens her mouth to answer, but her dad interrupts, not even realizing she’s trying to say something. “As soon as you can. She’s getting worse, not better, it seems.”
Her cheeks blaze, and she averts her eyes, staring at the cement walkway intently. She seems so much younger right now. Probably because her father is treating her like a child and not like the woman she is. I can do this. She and I are adults and we can co-exist without crossing that line again. Because her health is more important than my need to kiss her. If I can help, I will.
“Come on, Birdie,” I say, deliberately using her nickname. I need some way to separate her from the woman I want more than anything. “Come meet my horse and you and I can talk about what we’ll be working on.”
“You—“ Hank starts, but I cut him off.
“Put her on my schedule, Hank. Whenever they need.” I cut a glance at the chief, hoping that by keeping the focus on them as a packaged deal, I can detach myself from Lark. “You guys can work it out while I introduce Birdie to the horse she’ll be working with.”
Thankfully, the chief doesn’t argue. He releases his hold on Lark’s shoulder, and she steps toward me. My blood burns as her presence lights me up from the inside. Shit. I have to get a hold of myself. I’m fucking pining for her.
She follows me down the center path between the row of stables. Hank and her dad are watching us. I can feel their gazes on us as sure as the sky is blue.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was bringing me here.” Her voice sounds so small, so defeated.
“Lark, don’t apologize.”
“You … “ she sighs. “You really meant it when you said you didn’t want to see me again. I thought you’d, I don’t know, at least text me once in a while.”
Closing my eyes against the wave of guilt her words cause, I take a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to talk to you. Not when every time I think about you I remember things I shouldn’t.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too.”
Fuck, I’m hard and wishing I was wearing a looser pair of jeans right now. “I
don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it. I’ve tried.”
“I don’t want you to.” Her voice is husky and sexy as hell.
“Sweetness, this isn’t a good idea. Your dad—“
“I know.”
I reach out instinctively to brush a lock of her dark hair away from her face. But I stop myself because that’s not the relationship we can have. If her dad weren’t my boss, if he weren’t on my crew, I’d have no hang-ups about being with her. But, fuck. I can’t have her. Not when Chief Long trusts me to keep her safe.
She backs away from me, only a few stalls from Ben’s, but the look in her eyes tells me she won’t be meeting him today. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Lark—”
“No. I’ll find somewhere else. Someone else. This is too hard and we haven’t even started.”
Turning away from me, she walks as fast as she can without running, and instead of feeling relieved, my chest aches. It’s for the best, but try telling that to my heart.
Lark
My back gives a dull throb as I stand from my desk and stretch. For the first time since I left school I was inspired to create again. I’ve been at it for hours, creating mock-ups of book covers, website banners, branding, none of it useable, but it’s still…something. My creative well had run dry after the shooting. It was like a light had been turned off and I couldn’t find the switch.
It's been a long while since I wanted to create something but I feel like now something has opened in me. I wonder if it’s because of Travis. Because of something he brings out in me. Maybe I'm inspired by this man, his kind generous heart, giving me a piece of himself even though he knows how hard it is not to act on what we both want. He’s been through so much, and is still there steady and strong.
Using my tablet, I scribble and sketch without real purpose. Most of my portfolio is composed of book cover design, website graphics, things like that, but when my mind starts to wander, sometimes I just have to let it take over. I draw what my brain sees first. In this case, it's an angular jaw, cheekbones that could cut glass, the shadow of a beard, and an intense gaze. It's Travis, of course.
I long for him. A text, a call, some kind of contact. I know I won’t get any of it. That doesn't make the yearning go away. I shouldn't see him again. I shouldn’t. But I know I'm going to. Especially with my therapist’s advice to make more friends, find safe people to lean on. I'm trying to be able to live a regular not life. Even if that life is spent constantly fighting a battle. If I'm able to function without terror taking hold, it will change everything. How can I deny myself that? Travis is the one person who has been able to make me feel safe. But he’s also the one person I shouldn’t be with.
Glancing at the clock, I sigh at the display that reads 3:27 AM. I need to go to sleep. My brain won’t let me, but not from the fear of nightmares. Now it’s because if I close my eyes, I dream of Travis and all that serves to do is make this harder for me.
A knock on my door has my heart leaping. “Birdie?” My dad’s voice is thick with sleep. Rushing to close my sketchbook, I shove the thing under my bed, like a kid with something to hide.
“Yeah, Dad?”
He opens the door and stands there, his eyes tired, hair rumpled. He probably fell asleep in his recliner again watching re-runs of Scrubs.
“Why’re you still up?”
I shrug. “Can’t sleep.”
That look I know so well fills his face. “Come on downstairs. Tea and a snack.”
I grin, trying not to let overwhelming sadness buckle my knees at the reminder of how my mom always helped me get back to sleep. Tea and a snack.
We stand together at the kitchen island and wait as the chamomile tea steeps, a bowl of popcorn between us.
“Tell me what’s going on, Birdie.”
I shrug. “It’s nothing you can help with. Just my complicated brain.”
He snags a piece of popcorn and tosses it into his mouth. “How are the panic attacks? Are the coping tools your therapist gave you helping?”
I think back to the last attack I had in my car outside the college campus. I’d done what I’d been trained to do, slowly got it under control, and then Travis. His text. “Yeah, I was able to get ahead of the last one.”
He squeezes my hand. “Good. You’ve been through a lot the last few years. You have to be gentle with yourself. Are you sure you want to cancel equine therapy? Travis made a space for you on his schedule. It could be really helpful.”
Truthfully? I want to see Travis so much it hurts. But then, I’m positive I’ll fall in love with a man I can’t have. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. I…I wish I could just take it all away for you.”
Emotion wells in my chest and for a moment, I’m afraid I might cry. “I wish Mom was here to help.”
Eyes shining, he swallows hard and nods. “Me too, Birdie.”
After finishing my tea, I drop a kiss on his cheek and drag myself to bed. I’m exhausted. Drained to the point of restless limbs and achy muscles. But as I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling, I think of Travis, of the offer he’d made me before we found out our connection was so much closer than it should be.
He’s probably asleep at four in the morning, but I type a quick text anyway.
I need to see you.
Travis
I need to see you.
It’s four in the morning and Lark is texting me. Why is she texting me?
I can’t help it. Part of me is thrilled to be the one she calls for when she needs help. But the other, more responsible side is frustrated. She shouldn’t be reaching out to me. She should talk to her friends, her therapist, her dad. I’m no good for her. She knows it too. It was obvious when she walked away from me and then, the day after seeing her at the ranch, she called and took herself off my schedule.
That doesn’t stop me from responding.
Are you okay, darlin’?
The little bubbles on the screen move back and forth until her reply pops up.
I can’t sleep.
I smirk.
Have you tried closing your eyes? I hear that works wonders.
Smartass.
Laughing, I sit on the edge of my mattress and drag a hand through my hair. I’m not really ready to be awake, but now that she’s texted, I don’t stand a chance in hell of going back to sleep.
I know a few tricks to help you sleep.
Me too. Tried them all. And I do mean ALL.
Fuck. If she knew what I was thinking… I type a response, delete it, type a new one.
Meet me outside your house in ten minutes. Wear jeans.
Her response is almost immediate.
Okay.
It takes me every one of those ten minutes to get ready and get to her place. The chief’s place. Shit, that’s hard to wrap my brain around. But we’re not doing anything wrong. I’m helping her with a problem, not doing a damn thing to hurt her.
She’s standing outside in the pre-dawn light, her dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, curves on full display in a fitted white T-shirt and tight jeans. I have to force myself to wait for the truck to come to a complete stop before throwing it in Park and getting out to open her door.
“Mornin’, darlin’.”
Her answering smile is coy and innocent all at the same time as I wait for her to slide into the pickup.
“So, where are you taking me?” Her voice is pure sugar, warm and ready to pour on me.
“Well, when I can’t sleep…and I’ve tried everything, I go for a ride to clear my head.”
Her brows rise as we take the turn out of her neighborhood. “Riding? Like on a horse?”
I chuckle. “We’ve had this conversation before, sweetness. Yes, a horse.” I gesture over my shoulder. “There’s a pair of boots in the back that should fit you well enough.”
She reaches behind her and pulls out the worn brown boots I had stashed there. “Whose are these?”
“My ex’s.
I kept them there on the off chance she’d want to ride. She rarely did. So, they came with me when I moved.”
“She won’t mind?”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “She’s not part of my life anymore. Those boots are mine now, to do with as I see fit.”
“And you see fit to give them to me to wear today?”
“You can’t ride a horse in those things,” I say, glancing down at her Converse. “You need a heel on your shoe so your foot doesn’t slip out of the stirrup.”
“You’re not making me too confident.”
I chuckle and have to stop myself from reaching for her hand. “You’ll be fine. I’ve taught toddlers how to ride.”
“I’m not a toddler.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
The sky is just changing colors from the sun peeking over the horizon when we pull up to the ranch, no cars in their parking lot save Hank’s old, beat up truck.
“It’s quiet,” she whispers when I kill the engine.
“Yeah. It’s my favorite time out here. Almost no one is awake, not even the horses.”
“I don’t want to wake them up just so we can ride them.”
God, she’s fucking cute. “Trust me, the minute Ben hears my boots on the ground, he’ll be awake and ready to go.” I grin. “Speaking of boots, you’d better get yours on.”
She starts untying her shoelaces as I get out and walk around to her side of the truck. When I open the door, she’s got both shoes off and one foot half in the boot.
“Maybe my feet are too big?”
“Nah, these just take a little finesse, that’s all.” Grabbing the heel with one hand and her calf with the other, I ease the boot onto her foot, then do the same with the other.
“How do you get them off?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help.”
