Tristan
I repeat, absolutely not. It’s you. I know it.
Uh-huh.
God, I shouldn’t have this floaty feeling texting with him. Especially not right now. Not when I have a boyfriend, know this is stupid, and…I don’t even like him.
Not really.
Not in a meaningful way.
I liked him when I was a little girl. One who didn’t know anything about anything. All I was told was that Tristan was everything my brothers hated in this world. My father still won’t even speak the Stone name.
So, yeah, this floaty feeling cannot exist.
Tristan
I’m glad you’re all right. I’m beat and have an early morning. Night.
Thanks for everything, Tristan. Good night.
I put my phone down on the nightstand, pull the covers up, and lie there, waiting for sleep to take me and hoping my dreams do not involve a Stone.
“Hey, butthead!” my youngest brother, Deacon, yells as I’m entering the riding barn.
I assume he’s talking to someone else because he wouldn’t be stupid enough to say that to me, so I keep going.
“Lark!”
I turn, realizing he is, in fact, that stupid. “I know you weren’t calling me a butthead.”
Of my four brothers, Deacon is my favorite. Also, he’s the biggest asshole of the bunch. Still, there’s nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for me. Not that Ryan isn’t the same on that front, but he’s stuffy and annoying where Deacon is easygoing and affectionate. My other two brothers, Carter and Maverick, don’t live in Infinity Ridge anymore. Carter joined the navy because he couldn’t stand to live in Colorado, and we don’t talk about Maverick.
Deacon and I have always been close. Maybe it’s because we’re only two years apart, while Ryan is the oldest and almost fifteen years my senior.
He’s just…different.
Always serious. Always trying to make things better, even when we all know they’re falling apart. He doesn’t talk to us about any of his issues, he just…stews. I understand there’s a lot of pressure on him to fix the ranch, but it’s made being around him tough.
Deacon grins as I pause inside the largest barn on the property. This one is my favorite of them all—it’s the tallest, with fifteen stalls, the hayloft, and three cupolas. “I was, but apparently not well enough that you knew it.” He moves a little quicker, catching up to me. “What are you doing now?”
“I’m checking on the horses and going to exercise a few I know were overwhelmed during the storm, why?” As if they understand what that means, a few neigh, and I smile.
“Because I’m going to fuck off from my chores and wanted to see if you’d like to get into trouble.”
As great as the offer sounds, there’s no way I’m going to do that. With the intense rain we had, the horses need to work a bit, and I was hoping Deacon would get the puddles—that look like freaking lakes—taken care of, since that’s what he’s supposed to do.
“No, you’re not, because you have to help me with the nasty stalls and the puddles everywhere.”
Deacon huffs, his dark brown hair puffing up with the air. “Not today, Tornado.”
I hate that stupid nickname. “Yes today, Buckaroo.” I give it right back, knowing that as much as I hate mine, Deacon hates his even more. He flips me off. “Anyway, you can’t screw off today. Ryan will throw a fit, Daddy will throw you out, and then I’ll have to throw you off Infinity Ridge if I have to muck out the stalls on my own. All in all, you lose all the way around.”
“Why do you always want to do the right thing?”
I don’t always do that. Like now, I’m lying to him and Ryan, omitting how I got back last night, and I did dream of Tristan.
Like an idiot.
