Page 12 of Long Arm of the Cowboy

He remembered her doing that even as a kid, not to mention how she seemed so attuned to her big brother’s moods.

It could just be her personality. Or could be a trauma response from her life.

Back in the old days, Andrew Steele carried his scars from their childhood much differently. He never let on that anything was wrong, only that he was protective of his kid sister. He even carried around a picture of her in his wallet; Clay had glimpsed it several times when Andrew emptied his wallet in search of a stray dollar bill to toss into the pizza fund.

In the photo, Lark was just turning six, sitting in front of a cupcake with six candles. She was so young and looked a lot different to present-day Lark.

Now that the coffee had woken Clay a little, he saw hera lotbetter.

He saw too much.

She might be petite, but she was mostdefinitelya woman. Those full breasts and a tantalizing peek of cleavage accentuated her small waist and the flare of her hips.

Unable to stop himself, Clay glanced over at her. The woman in the passenger seat of his truck had thighs that were made for squeezing the life out of a man while he fucked her.

Goddammit. Hereallyneeded sleep.

“Remember that building used to be a grocery store?” She pointed at a brick structure on the outskirts of East Canon.

He nodded.

“My mom used to take me there when I was real little. They had a bubble gum machine that still took dimes. Sometimes she’d give me a dime and I could get a gumball.”

Christ. This woman had scars hidden under those yellow polka dots and behind the dimples of the soft smile she displayed.

Her dimples vanished as she continued, “That was before Mom started doing drugs and Dad went to prison.”

The story rushed back into his head, as sad a tale as he ever heard as a cop, and he’d heard a lot.

Lark twisted a curl near her ear. “After you graduated, you might have heard that Andrew got in trouble with the law.”

His brows shot up. “Did he?”

“Yeah, he got caught shoplifting in that grocery store. He was only trying to get some decent food for us because Mom… Well, you know. Anyway, the store owner was so nice. He let Andrew off and didn’t press charges. He told him to clean up his act before it was too late. That he didn’t have to follow the same path our parents did.”

Clay’s throat constricted with emotion. He considered Andrew a friend back in those days, but he was younger than Clay and hung around the edge of his friend group. He never considered him a best friend.

Now all the regrets poured in. He could have done a lot to help Andrew, and in turn, his little sister.

“Andrew went off to the Army.”

That statement had Clay sitting up straighter. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yup. He looked up to you, followed in your footsteps. He hated leaving me alone with Mom, but I’m glad he went. Then Mom OD’d and he couldn’t get back in time from South Korea, where he was stationed overseas. I had to deal with the burial and figure out my own life.”

“Jesus, Lark. I’m sorry.” He sliced his fingers through his hair.

She threw a look out the back window at the crate strapped in the bed of his truck. “That bomb really isn’t the worst thing to happen to me.” She was looking at himthatway with the deep, probing gaze that made him feel more off-balance than a handful of stimulants.

“What was the worst? Burying your mom?” His voice was gritty.

“No… I think it was the group home.” How did she say that with so much nonchalance? As though she’d just told him about a picnic she took on the lake they all used for swimming.

He studied her profile for a heartbeat, searching for tears and listening for sniffles. But she remained dry-eyed and silent.

She was a tough little thing.

And so damn cute.

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