by Kim Loraine
“You’ve started doing your art again?”
I nod and open my phone to a book cover I designed for a friend of mine from high school. She’s an author now, a pretty successful one, and when I saw she needed help with her covers, I took a chance and emailed her. Now three of her friends have me making mock-up covers for them. “I’m dipping my toe in. Book covers are really soothing for me. I like romance the most. There’s always a dramatic pose or…”
“Sexy as fuck abs and a chiseled jaw.”
I laugh. “Exactly. You should see some of the models they have for these covers. They’re gorgeous.”
Snagging my phone from my hand, she inspects the artwork I’ve done. “This is beautiful. Like, I don’t read romance but I’d buy it because of the cover, beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Heat blossoms across my cheeks.
She lets out a snort. “Too bad there aren’t good guys who look like this out there in the world.”
But there are. I keep that to myself, not ready to share Travis with her yet. She’ll tell me he’s too old, that he’s got too much baggage, and she’s be right. The years between us are a lot. His divorce and the damage done by his ex definitely bring their own set of challenges. But Travis makes me calm and steady. He helps me feel like more than the girl with the trauma eating her from the inside out. He sees me.
“I’m sure there are some.”
She takes a long drink. “If there are, I’ve been missing them.” Then she grabs my phone and zooms in on the book cover. “This is really gorgeous. The colors and the font. It’s striking.”
Pride stirs in my chest. “Thanks. I’m thinking about doing it freelance until I can go back to school.”
“You should. Is this the only one you’ve done?”
“No. I have a whole portfolio folder. Lots of different designs. I started working again a few weeks ago when I couldn’t sleep. The thing I love most about romance covers is there’s this element of…hope. These books aren’t just about sex. They represent that belief that there’s someone for everyone.” I shrug, not trying to brush the thought aside, but trying to remind myself who I’m talking to.
“Yeah. Okay. Well, let’s not get crazy. You know monogamy doesn’t work. Just look at my parents. Yours too. It took your mom most of your life to settle down with your dad. She wanted to fly free until she finally came back.”
I bristle. “She loved him. She wasn’t ready to love him until she realized it.”
“Exactly. She wanted to experience life. My parents are bitter and miserable humans who’d be better off divorced. I wish my mom had the guts to do what your mom did. Move on, live without him and do what makes her happy. Instead, they’re going to spend their lives making each other suffer.”
I have to fight a bitter laugh. Maybe she has a point. It’s not as simple as finding your happily ever after. My mom missed out on so much time with my dad. All because she wanted to be free. She didn’t realize until it was almost too late that freedom doesn’t mean you have to be alone. When you’re with the right person, you can be free together.
Love isn’t about getting your happily ever after. It’s finding it and fighting for it every single day.
Am I willing to do that? And is Travis ready for me?
Travis
There’s a woman flirting with my horse. A woman I want to see more than anything. We’ve been playing student-teacher for weeks, me keeping my hands off her, her tempting me in the way only she can. She’s getting good in the saddle too.
Lark stands outside the stable and toys with Ben’s forelock. I mutter a soft, “Shit,” under my breath, and she stops with her hands still holding Ben’s braided hair.
Turning her head, she glances over her shoulder at me. “Excuse me? Did you just curse at me?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“Do you go around cursing at perfect strangers a lot?” There’s amusement in her eyes, a glimmer of mischief.
Ah, so she’s toying with me. I don’t mind it.
“I do when they’re touching what’s mine.” God, my Aunt Sandy would have likely taken a switch to my hide if she ever heard me talking to a woman this way, but teasing Lark is worth it. “That’s my horse. You’re messing with my horse without my permission.”
She backs away, dropping her hand, and Ben immediately nudges her with his nose. He knows what he likes. “I’m sorry. He was…he’s so pretty…and I wanted—“
“What? To pet yourself a horse and finally realize your little girl fantasies about having your own pony?”
Her dark eyes spark with indignation and excitement at our little game. “You don’t have to be such a jerk.” She crosses her arms over her chest, drawing my attention from my horse to her full tits and curvy hips.
No. Fuck, no. I’m not checking her out. Except I am. How could I not? I know what she feels like. What she tastes like.
“You should keep your hands to yourself. What if this horse hadn’t been so friendly? Did you ever think about that?”
Her tongue darts out to lick her lower lip, the small action making something twist inside me. “No.”
“I’ve seen a moody horse take a chunk out of a guy’s hand for trying to touch him. Not every horse is gonna be like the ones your daddy bought to give pony rides at your birthday parties.”
She tosses her hair over one shoulder and juts her chin forward. “You don’t know anything about me.” So we’re still playing at being strangers. That’s fine. I can tease her all I want until she breaks character.
I glance down her body, making a show of taking in the tight jeans, boots, and perfectly clean…everything. “I know from one look you’ve never ridden before. You don’t belong here.”
“You’re a grumpy cowboy.”
I chuckle. “Maybe. And you’re a spoiled little girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing here.” I step closer, reaching up to undo the braid in Ben’s hair. “Tell me, why are you here exactly? Visiting a friend? Maybe your boyfriend brought you to show off his mama’s horse?” Even the mention of a fictional boyfriend makes jealousy burn in my blood.
She shifts from foot to foot, gaze narrowed. “I—“
“You what?” I open the stall and step in with Ben. She follows.
“I’m here to ride.”
“And who’s gonna teach you?”
“Don’t you think I need someone like you?” she asks.
“Looks like it.” My fucking heart is fluttering like a caged bird. I’m aching I’m so hard. I like playing with her.
She smirks and steps a little closer. “I promise I’ll be a good student.”
Hell, her teasing tone is cute. “I doubt it, darlin’. You look like the kind of girl who likes the idea of something until it gets tough. I bet you run the first time you get stepped on or thrown.”
Brows drawn, she sets her jaw and stares hard at me. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“We’ll see. I think I’ve got you pretty well pegged.”
“And I think I have you figured out too. You’re threatened by me.”
I laugh. “Threatened? You’re what…a high schooler? You don’t scare me.”
“I’m not in high school. And, yes, I think you’re scared of me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you don’t know what to do with a girl like me.” She twirls a strand of her dark hair around her finger and smiles. “I might look like I’ll break in an instant, but I’m made of tougher stuff than you think.”
Oh, I know what to do with her. Exactly what I want to do. Taking a deep breath, I push aside the primal rush of lust and ill-advised desire. She’s my boss’ daughter. I’ve already given in once, twice if you count the kiss in the car…and, shit, the supply closet made it three times. I can’t spend another second thinking about her in any way other than a friendly one.
“All right, that’s enough playtime. Why are you here, Lark? We don’t have a session scheduled for this week.”
Eyes wid
e, she gapes at me. “I want to ride Ben again. And…I just needed to see you. You make me feel…”
The way her voice trails off has my stomach tight with worry. “What?”
“Safe.” Her cheeks turn a delicate pink.
I don’t know how to respond. But I get what she’s saying. I feel safe with her too. “You should always be around people who make you feel safe, sweetness.”
“Did you get my text?” she asks, her voice low.
I swallow hard. The visual of her in that sexy lingerie making my cock jump. “Yeah.”
That’s all I give her. I can’t talk about what that picture did to me.
“So, can I ride him again?”
Reaching up, she tries to touch Ben’s face again, but I catch her wrist and stop her. The feel of her skin on mine sends tension running though my nerve endings.
“I said, don’t touch my horse.” I wink, playing my part of grumpy cowboy.
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “What can I touch?”
I want to tell her she can touch me. Instead, I take a long pause and back up. “You can go get his saddle. Remember where it is?”
Excitement flashes over her face. “Tack room.”
“Let’s go then, darlin’. This horse needs riding.”
She walks away from me, heading around the stable toward the room where all of Ben’s stuff is housed. I can’t keep my gaze from lingering on her round ass and full hips swaying as she walks, tempting me. Resisting her was hard before she sent me that sexy photo. It’s damn near impossible now.
10
Lark
Travis is on my mind as I finalize the cover for a western romance novel commission. I can’t stop myself from picturing him as the sexy cowboy staring down at the ground, hat covering most of his face, shirt open, chest and abs exposed. I saw him three days ago, went for a ride, and he barely touched me, but the attraction between us is explosive. I know all it’s going to take is one good spark before we ignite.
I haven’t dated in a very long time. Not since….before everything happened. My last boyfriend was during my senior year of high school. He’d been older, in college, and I thought he was the love of my life. I’d been wrong. Of course. My mom hated it. Hated that he was so much more experienced than me. But I didn’t listen. Until he broke my heart when my life fell to pieces. But Travis? He makes me feel cherished. One night with him and I realized exactly what I’ve been missing when it comes to men. Even if he’s off-limits.
Lord help me, but I have a type.
My phone lights up with a text message. Daisy’s picture appearing on the screen, I smile. She always picks the best things for us to do. Things she knows I can handle. Not crowded night clubs or huge concerts. Small, intimate events that don’t make me break out into a cold sweat and fight panic all night.
Beach bistro concert tonight. Max twenty-five people. You in?
I stare down at the message. It should be an easy decision. Twenty-five people, plenty of options for escape if I panic, but that familiar gnawing fear creeps into my mind.
Mind if I invite someone?
I type the words on instinct. It’s the first thing I think of. Because I know who I want there with me. Who makes me feel safe. Travis.
My phone rings almost immediately. Sighing, I answer. “Hi, Daisy.”
“Who is he?” she demands.
“He’s just a guy I’ve been talking to.”
“What’s his name?”
“Travis. He’s…older. I doubt he’ll want to come.”
“Oh, he’ll want to come, I’m sure of it. Isn’t that what every guy wants?”
I snicker at her dirty joke, and then something twists inside me. Would that be such a bad thing?
“Okay, fine, invite him and tell me if you need a ride. Otherwise, see you there at eight tonight, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you just ma’am me?”
“Bye, Daisy.” I laugh through the words and she hangs up with an exaggerated huff.
Then I immediately text Travis.
Concert on the beach at Franco’s. It could be fun. More if you’re there.
I wait. And wait. Until I realize he’s not going to respond. He’s not interested. Disappointment grips me, but I push it aside, reminding myself that I don’t need him. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want to move things any further between us. My connection to his job is too much. I need to let the idea of him go and remember I can and should go out of my comfort zone. I should be spending time with friends, living my life, not hiding behind my phone, in my room. I need to take the steps I’ve learned in therapy if I’m going to move past the trauma that’s scarred me.
The day goes on with no word from him, and it’s all I can do not to toss my phone at the wall every time I look at it and its stupid black screen.
“Is it that hard to respond with a simple, ‘No thanks’?”
I pick up my phone and type a short message to Daisy, asking her to come get me in an hour. Then I go into the bathroom to get ready. Tonight I’m going to look good. So good that if Travis saw me he’d regret not coming with me.
When Daisy arrives, I put on a brave face and slide into her car, my short skirt and red halter perfect for the summer evening. The straps cover my scar perfectly, and I think for a minute how lucky I am the bullet didn’t go all the way through. I want to laugh. If it had it would have been an easier recovery, but my vanity is grateful for only one scar.
Daisy grins wickedly and looks me over. “Wow, you clean up nice, girl. Your guy meeting us there?”
“No. He didn’t answer. It’s not real anyway. Just a flirtation.”
“Oh, but sometimes those are the best kind.”
I sigh and attempt to fight the twist of longing in my belly. “Well, tonight I want to forget about him. He’s too old for me anyway.”
“Oh, an older man, huh? How much older are we talking?”
I shrug, not wanting to go into detail. “I don’t know. He’s...divorced. I know he’s bad for me, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Divorced? A damaged soul. We do love to rescue them from themselves, don’t we?” She looks at me as we wait at a stoplight. “We’re always trying to fix what someone else broke.”
Shaking my head, I toy with the edge of my skirt. “I don’t think he’s the broken one here.”
The light changes, and Daisy pulls forward just as an ambulance comes through the intersection in the oncoming lane. She stops as the emergency vehicle is followed by the ladder truck and the fire engine. All with lights blazing and sirens cutting through the air. I watch them pass, wondering if the reason Travis didn’t answer is because he’s on shift. Dad is working overtime. Maybe Travis is too.
When the emergency vehicles are gone, Daisy enters traffic again, and I can’t help but look behind me at the flashing lights, worry nagging at me.
“Must be something bad.” Daisy shakes her head and keeps driving.
“It’s always bad if they all go.”
We stay silent for the rest of the ride, and when she parks in the small hidden parking lot behind the beach shack where this concert is happening, she sighs. “If you decide you can’t handle this, just say the word. I’ll take you home.”
I grit my teeth, frustration curling in my chest. “I’m going to be fine. I’ve been working hard in therapy. This is a safe place. I’m with people I trust. Not everyone is out to get me.”
She grabs my hand and squeezes. “I remember when I first met you and you’d barely step foot out of your house.”
“Thank God for you, though. I’d never have graduated without your tutoring sessions.”
Shrugging, she smiles. “Good thing our dads are friends. I needed a job, you needed…help.” She opens her door and cocks her head. “Come on. The bonfire’s about to be lit. We don’t want to miss a minute.”
I step out of the car, and instantly my sandals sink into the cool sand. The sound of waves crashing again
st the shore calms me, but as we walk arm in arm toward the back of house, my heart begins to race. I grip her harder and take long slow breaths.
“It’s okay, Lark. We can go back if you want.”
I shake my head and sigh. “No. I can do this.”
We make our way to the place where the small group of no more than twenty people have gathered with drinks in hand around the pile of wood stacked to create a bonfire.
“Drink?” Daisy glances over to the outdoor bar that’s set up on the back porch of the house. It’s really more of a beach house-turned-club. The band is set up on a stage illuminated by string lights, and a group of two women and one guy start playing as the crowd gathers.
“Sure.”
She smiles. “Be right back.”
I wrap my arms around my middle, working to control the unwelcome sense of discomfort gripping my throat. I’m fine. I’m here and I’m fine.
The sand tickles my toes as I wander slowly toward the freshly lit fire. Flames lick the wood, lighting up the night and warming me.
“You don’t answer your phone.” Travis’ voice catches me off guard, making me flinch. He laughs, deep and throaty, and as I turn to face him, I can’t help my smile.
“I thought you’d decided to ignore me.” I hate the pout in my words. But the least he could have done was respond to my message. “You didn’t text me.”
“I was working late with Ben. I came straight here after I tried to call you.” His dark hair is carelessly tousled, eyes tired but holding a hint of mischief.
“I saw the ladder truck and engine out on a call as we came this way. Thought you might be on duty.”
Jaw clenched, he looks away from me and down the shoreline. He shakes his head and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You like the beach?”
Biting my lower lip, I nod. “It’s soothing. Unless it’s busy.”
“People always make things more difficult. It’s why I love riding.”
