Yep. Quinn knew that. Wyatt raved about the rolls a lot. She loved the guy’s sweet tooth. It was just one of the things that set him apart from the men she was used to.
Quinn and Mrs. Potter spent the next half hour finishing the rolls. It wasn’t until they were baking that Mrs. Potter headed home for the day. At that point, Quinn found herself unable to take her eyes from the oven.
If these rolls turned out good, she would be doing more than a happy dance. She would be raving from the rooftops to anyone who would listen that not only could she make a mean cup of coffee, but she could also bake the best cinnamon rolls in town.
Maybe Wyatt could be her taste-tester. Let her know if they were as good as they usually were.
No. Scrap that. The man would never tell her the truth. He’d probably say he loved them even if they tasted like ash, just to make her happy.
Someone who would tell her the truth was Mason. Five days left until he was due to return. Maybe she’d bake some more rolls then. He would be the perfect test subject.
He’d wanted to return earlier, but had agreed to continue their visit with Sage’s brother once Wyatt assured him Quinn was safe.
Quinn took a step toward her phone…only to stop and press a hand to her temple. She felt the beginnings of a headache. Strange, she never got headaches.
Not only that…was she also feeling a bit dizzy?
Frowning, Quinn was about to grab a glass of water when the dinging of the timer went off.
The cinnamon rolls were ready!
Turning back to the oven, she switched it off and opened the door.
Sweet scents immediately bombarded her. Now she just had to hope they tasted as good.
Quinn was placing the rolls on the counter when the door opened. Swinging her gaze to the front of the store, her heart clenched at the sight of Wyatt stepping inside.
An excited squeal escaped her lips before she ran around the counter and propelled herself into his waiting arms. He caught her easily.
God, it was good to have the man’s strong arms wrapped around her again. They’d only spent a couple days apart, but it felt like a lot longer.
Her lips went straight to his. The kiss was firm and knowing. She groaned deep in her throat. Oh, how she’d missed these kisses. Missed his touch. Missed every little thing about him.
After a minute, Quinn finally lifted her head. “I thought you were getting home tomorrow.”
Not that she was complaining. Not. One. Bit.
He nuzzled her neck, causing shock waves of awareness to filter through her body. “No. The sun, coffee, and couple meant I was looking forward to waking up with you.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Well, you definitely needed to put a picture of a bed in that text somewhere.”
He raised a brow. “I didn’t want you getting any ideas.”
Oh, she definitely would have gotten ideas. Actually, those very thoughts were running rampant right now. “Too late.”
Wyatt lifted his hand and grazed a finger down her cheek. “I hope those ideas include dinner at my place.”
Amongst other activities. “Dinner, dessert, then the other stuff. I’ll bring dessert.”
His eyes widened in shock.
She couldn’t blame the guy. She had told him on numerous occasions that anything she prepared in the kitchen would likely poison the consumer.
“Don’t look so surprised. Mrs. Potter has shown me a few things while you’ve been gone. One of those things just happens to be her famous cinnamon rolls. Although, they both still need to be glazed and frosted. That only consists of a couple of ingredients, though, so should be foolproof.”
But hell, even if the plain roll tasted as good as it smelled, Quinn would feel amazing.
“I’ll eat anything you make. And it’s no surprise you’re picking up new skills while I’m gone. You had to fill your time with something to stop missing me.”
Quinn playfully hit his shoulder before kissing him again. She couldn’t help it. She needed her lips to be on his.
Even though she wanted to know how his trip went, that could wait. At the moment, the only thing she wanted to do was refamiliarize herself with the man.
“I missed you,” she said, finally coming up for air.
“I think I missed you more.”
“Not possible.”
Pressing her lips to his a final time, Quinn slid down his body. Moving back to the prep area, she placed the unglazed cinnamon rolls in a bag before sliding them across the counter. They’d only made two, luckily.
“That’s dessert. Well, an almost-complete dessert.”
“I had something else in mind.”
Jeez, he was going to be the death of her. “Get your mind out of the gutter, buddy. You get that after you tell me my cinnamon rolls are amazing.”
Wyatt opened his mouth to say something—only to stop. A frown marred his brow.
“What is it?”
“Can you smell that?”
Quinn’s own forehead furrowed as she sniffed. She couldn’t smell anything. “No.”
When Wyatt’s eyes shot to the door leading to the back kitchen, Quinn moved in that direction.
Oh crap. Had Mrs. Potter left something on and forgotten to tell her?
Moving to the back, Quinn pushed through the door, but immediately pulled back.
Gas. It hit her hard.
Where was it coming from? The room was pitch-black, which was normal. All the blinds were closed, as well as the back door.
Reaching for the light switch, Quinn was about to flick it on, but was stopped by Wyatt’s hand on her wrist.
“If you turn the switch on, it could cause a spark and ignite an explosion.”
Holy heck. She didn’t know that.
She could have just caused the entire kitchen to blow up.
Wyatt took hold of her hand and pulled her back toward the front of the store. He didn’t stop at the counter though. He kept going.
Once they stepped outside, Wyatt led them to the back of the building. Stopping at the gas meter, he opened it and immediately rotated a valve.
“I’m turning the gas off,” Wyatt said quietly.
Suddenly, her earlier headache and dizziness made sense.
Wyatt pulled his phone out and pressed it to his ear. “Ax. I know I just sent you home, but I need you back here.”
Oliver. He must have been the one watching her today. Although she hadn’t seen the guy once.
“Ax was in a car across the street,” Wyatt said, confirming her thoughts. “He only would have come into the store if someone who posed a threat had entered, or if you’d gone into the back.”
And if she had gone into the back, Oliver never would have made it inside in time.
Wyatt’s arm tightened around her waist as they waited for Oliver. He was quick, taking only a couple of minutes. When he arrived, his brows immediately drew together.
“Gas.”
“Yes. I’ve turned the main switch off. We need to air the space out, then we can see where the leak is coming from. I didn’t want Quinn breathing it in, but also didn’t want to leave her out here alone.”
Oliver nodded before moving to the back door, disappearing inside.
It didn’t take long for him to open the place up. Less than five minutes later, Oliver returned, the grim look on his face telling Quinn she wasn’t going to like what he said next. No doubt Wyatt wouldn’t, either.
“The gas hose was disconnected from the stove.”
Wyatt’s body tensed as much as hers.
Crap. That meant this was no accident, right?
Oliver turned and checked the door. “The lock wasn’t broken.”
That’s because it was never locked during open hours. “Mrs. Potter likes to keep it unlocked. She mentioned something about locking herself out before.” Tiny goose bumps rose along Quinn’s arms. “Do you guys think someone was trying to kill me?”
God, saying those words out loud felt like she was in the m
iddle of a dream. Or more accurately, a nightmare.
Oliver’s expression remained impossible to read. When she looked up at Wyatt, she saw his features immediately smooth, as well. “Let’s get you home. Ax, you okay to wait for the kitchen to air out before locking up?”
The big man nodded. Then Wyatt was moving her away.
Quinn was very aware he intentionally hadn’t answered her question. And she knew why. She’d come very close to dying. That was no accident.
Chapter 19
Wyatt shook a decent amount of garlic powder into the pasta sauce. While Quinn was busy getting changed, he was cooking dinner. Although she was in her own apartment, he was listening to her movements across the hall. Stopping at any new sounds that passed their doors.
That wasn’t the only thing he was doing. While the pasta cooked on the stove, his laptop sat on the counter. On the screen was every bit of information he could find on Darren Hoffman, Quinn’s former boss.
Thirty-eight years old. Married. No kids. That was the surface information. The stuff that was easy to find.
There was other information. Information Wyatt had needed to dig for. Unfortunately, none of it raised any red flags.
No suspicious emails in his inbox, no unusually large payments into his accounts, and no background in military or pharmaceuticals.
As far as Wyatt could tell, the man was squeaky clean. Which was annoying as all hell, because he was the only person Wyatt could think of who might have reason to harm Quinn. Or, at least, the only person Quinn had mentioned.
Plus, he’d found no return flights to New York bearing his name. Which meant, it was likely he was still in Marble Falls. The question was, where?
Wyatt wanted to find him. If Darren was responsible for the little setup at the bakery tonight, Wyatt wanted the guy to pay.
Rage pumped through his veins at what could have happened if he hadn’t been there to stop Quinn from switching the light on.
As the pasta water began to bubble over, Wyatt quickly turned down the heat. He was making beef ragù with fettuccine. The table was already set and candles lit.
He’d wanted tonight to be romantic. Regardless of what had happened, he was still going ahead with the dinner. The only problem was, he couldn’t get today’s incident out of his head.
If it wasn’t Darren, the only other person Wyatt could think of who might have reason to want her dead was Hylar. And that was only if he’d somehow discovered it was because of her that his last attempt to rob a lab was stopped. The man shouldn’t have access to that information.
Wyatt didn’t think it was Hylar. Or anyone who was part of Project Arma. They would have gone a more direct route. The whole bakery sabotage was amateur. And Arma was anything but amateur. If they wanted her dead, they would have just walked in and killed her before hightailed it across the country.
Wyatt paused as movement of Quinn leaving her apartment sounded.
Shutting his laptop, he was opening the door before Quinn had a chance to knock. At the sight of her, heat slammed into his gut.
Quinn’s thick black hair was down, flowing over her bare shoulders. She wore a black top with thin straps and jeans that hugged her legs.
He took a step closer. “How has no man claimed you yet?”
A smile lit her face, and it only made her more beautiful. “I didn’t let any man claim me…because I was waiting for you.”
Wyatt reached out and pulled the woman into his arms, loving the way she melted against him. Her body fit his like that was where she was meant to be.
A purring sound escaped her chest as he kissed her. It sent his blood pumping.
Perfect. The woman was perfect, and she was his.
When he pulled back, it was to see Quinn’s eyes closed, but the smile remained. Her voice was like silk. “Mm, not only do you taste good, but you smell good too.”
Wyatt chuckled as he pulled her inside and closed the door. “As much as I’d like to take credit for that, it’s likely the pasta that smells good.”
A short gasp escaped her lips. “It smells delicious. And there’s wine. And candles…”
“And a sexy man who made it all possible?” he whispered in her ear before moving past her.
“Yes. And you.”
“I hope you like beef ragù. It’s my specialty.” Wyatt lifted the pasta off the stove and strained it.
“Well, it certainly smells better than my specialty—steamed rice. Actually, I’m pretty sure the last time I made steamed rice it went clumpy.”
He flicked her a quick glance. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. By the look of those cinnamon rolls, you’re better in the kitchen than you think.”
She leaned her hip against the kitchen counter. “We shouldn’t get too excited, I still need to glaze them. I’m actually finding baking to be kind of enjoyable though. Which is nuts, because I’ve never been that type of person.”
“What kind of person?”
She lifted a shoulder. “The kind of person who bakes a cake.”
“What kind of person are you?”
Wyatt knew the kind of person he thought she was. But he wanted to hear what kind of person she thought she was. Because he wasn’t sure the two were lining up.
“The kind who skips the grocery store and orders Uber Eats. The kind who prioritizes writing a story over any and everything else. The kind whose mind is moving at a hundred miles an hour because her life is so busy. At least, that’s the person I used to be.”
That sounded more like how her life used to be, rather than who she was. “Do you miss it?”
Her brows lifted. “My life in New York?” She seemed to consider her answer. “I thought I would. I thought I’d be so bored without journalism. But I’m really not. For the first time in my life, I feel…content. Like I don’t have to push myself to the limit. I can just be.”
Quinn probably didn’t realize how damn happy that made him. A part of him had been worried that Marble Falls wouldn’t be enough for her. Wouldn’t be big enough. Busy enough. She still might need the busyness of a big town at some point. But for now, at least, she appeared comfortable.
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
Their gazes caught. Although no words were spoken, the silence was loud.
It wasn’t just Quinn who was happy. It was him, too. They had each other to thank for that. They cared about each other. It was big and scary. And it was real.
“Thank you.”
He dipped his head. “Ready to eat?”
“Yes. Feed me, please. I’m a starved woman.”
Five minutes later, they both had a bowl of ragù in front of them and cutlery in hand. Over the meal, Quinn made him laugh and smile more times than he could count. Her stories about the crazy things she’d done to get to the bottom of the stories she’d written were mindboggling.
One time she’d dressed up as a man to get into a gentlemen’s club. She’d lasted the entire evening without a single person catching her. Another time, she’d pretended to be the CEO of a tech company to get information from unsuspecting customers.
Wyatt could imagine her pulling off the CEO role—she definitely had the confidence—but not the man part. Not for a second. She was too feminine for that.
But it was the stories about her and Mason that really got him. She described the guy as a pain in the butt. Even though he nodded and agreed, he secretly loved the fact that her brother vetted all her dates. That he was a constant pair of eyes looking over her shoulder.
They didn’t talk about the gas leak once. It wasn’t until they were both almost done that she asked the question he’d been waiting for.
“How was Portland?”
Wyatt had been looking forward to the question. Because he knew she’d be happy with the answer.
“We saved them.”
Quinn breathed out a sigh and dropped her head into her hands. After a few seconds, he started to wonder if he should be concerned, but then she looked up.
&
nbsp; Relief. Gratitude. Serenity. It was all there on her face.
“That makes me happy. It would have killed me to see any more lab technicians die when they could be saved.”
That was just one of the things about Quinn that drew him in. Her giant heart.
She leaned forward. “You’re amazing.”
Nope. One of them was amazing, but it wasn’t him.
“You’re the one who didn’t give up on the story, even when you lost the life you knew. You saved their lives. You helped us prevent Arma from getting something they wanted. Thank you.”
“Okay, I guess we’re both pretty amazing.”
Wyatt reached across the table and interlaced his fingers with hers. “I’ll agree with that.”
“Did you get any information from the men who broke in?”
Wyatt’s muscles tensed. “No. The police arrived, alongside a CIA agent. The agent killed the last man.” The fact still made Wyatt both angry and frustrated.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, playing it off as no big deal. When in reality, it was a huge deal. “There’ll be more leads to help us locate the remaining Project Arma members.”
Quinn paused for a moment, seeming to be considering her next words. “Do you think Maya’s still alive?”
A muscle ticked in Wyatt’s jaw. He wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear, but he didn’t want to lie.
“I hope that she’s alive. I really do. Evie’s working overtime searching surrounding towns. If we do find her, we’ll go to her. I promise.”
It was entirely possible the woman was captured or dead. Both Wyatt and Quinn knew that. If she was alive, and only using cash, it might be almost impossible to find her.
Wyatt could see the guilt that ate at Quinn. Like she’d failed the other woman. For not convincing her to come to Marble Falls at their first meeting, and for arriving late the second time.
Quinn straightened in her seat. “I know you guys and Evie are doing everything you can.”
They were. He hoped like that she was on the run and they found her before anyone else did.
“Can I ask about Darren. Is there anything I don’t know that I should?”
Quinn’s face hardened. “Darren’s an asshole. Always has been. Is there anything in particular you want to know?”
Wyatt: A steamy contemporary military romance (Project Arma Book 5) Page 14