by Anne Harper
And, most notably, he was not the chatty, socializing man she’d met on Valentine’s Day. Which was a big reason why she hadn’t brought up their kiss. It didn’t seem pertinent and if he wasn’t going to address it out of the gate, then she wasn’t going to be the one who brought it up. That and she felt a bit of sting at him all but fleeing the vicinity after their lip lock had ended. What was the point of brining it up now? He definitely couldn’t take back what he’d done, just as she couldn’t retroactively keep her libido in check.
Plus, what would he even say if she did bring it up?
Sure, he talked about work, but that was it. Instead of using a book as a wall to keep her at bay, he had his grumpy scowl that acted as a blocker.
Which was a pain in the backside because that scowl, and his fire station–loud alarming features, still made Nell’s stomach do things it shouldn’t be doing so quickly after she’d left a long-term relationship. Not to mention the no-dating policy at work.
And the whole swearing off men thing.
Yet it kept on doing things.
And that was a problem.
One Nell needed to get over.
“It’s just a coincidence you got me now, right?” the budget-busting brassiere whispered from the bag in her hand. “Were you really being petty or was Quinn on your mind when you pulled me off the hanger?”
Nell frowned to herself.
She didn’t appreciate the thoughts.
Mostly because she wasn’t exactly sure which one was true.
The rest of the day felt oddly tainted by the Keith run-in, and Nell couldn’t help but project that grumpiness onto the one person she shouldn’t. Quinn had his eyebrow raised high after an answer she’d given him was on the annoyed side.
“Sorry,” she tried to recover. “I’m having one of those days that are just… Well, a day. I also missed my chance to get some of the good, good coffee from Main so, my bad on the whole.”
Quinn waved her off.
“We all have those kinds of days every now and then. Most people never call themselves out, so you’re already one step above the rest.”
“I suppose that’s mildly comforting.”
Even if it wasn’t mildly what she wanted to hear from the man. If he wasn’t professional, he was dismissive and detached. It bothered Nell way more than it should have.
They finished going over a few things before Jones came in and started talking numbers. Nell excused herself and went about work until she left for home after four. She’d dropped her phone in her purse while gabbing with Tally about the dress she’d bought, so she didn’t see that her phone was lighting up like Christmas as everyone under the blue moon in Arbor Bay was calling or texting until she was alone in her kitchen.
“This can’t be good.”
The latest call was from Olena. She was the third oldest Bennett and had spent the last few years coming down from what the eldest Bennett sibling and sister, Liere, had dubbed “Girls Gone Wild, redneck edition.” Olly was all about drama and had just about lost it when Nell went viral, which meant Nell had been avoiding calling her directly lest her life be drained by loops of can you believe it? and did you hear about what So and So said about you? Nell decided listening to the voicemail she left was a lot better for her sanity than returning Olly’s call.
She took a deep breath, hit play, and put the phone to her ear. All while hoping Olly and the townspeople had just decided they wanted to say hello. All at the same time.
One second into the voicemail and Nell’s hopes were dashed.
“Holy shit, Nell! Why does Keith McDumbass have a picture of you with a bra in some random room on his website? Is that at Cherry Blossom? I couldn’t tell because he did that thing he does where he crops the hell out of the pic. And if it is at Cherry Blossom, who the heck are you buying that lacy boob prison for? Whatever the answers are, you better get them in check quick. Liere has already called me and it’s only a matter of time before Leon and Mateo are busting down your door to help avenge you. Never mind Mom and Dad. But call me first!”
The dread that had been building with Olly’s excitement didn’t go away a smidge when the message ended.
“No way. No freaking way.”
Nell hurried to the living room and woke up the laptop on the couch. She paused, fingers over the keyboard in midair. Did she want to Google search her name again? It was a weird kind of addiction to see what was being said about her “out there” in the world. From listicles to puff pieces to social media posts with the attached Valentine’s Day video, it was odd, off-putting, and worrisome all at once to see what strangers were typing at their own keyboards. Donavon had been wanting to prove that Heart in Hand was a stable, unexciting business in the community and then there she had been, going viral for a not so stable yet very exciting rant. The fact that it was unintentional was maybe the only reason he hadn’t said more. Or it was another reason why Quinn had come when he did. The thought that something so out of her control could be the reason why she didn’t get the promotion put fire into her veins.
Fire she assumed was about to spread.
Nell had already made a rule for herself on Day Three after going viral to stay away from internet browsers and her own social media for a while.
So she decided to stick to that self-imposed rule as best she could and instead gave Keith McHaulty’s gaudy website a visit.
That was a mistake.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Sure as the day was long, there at the top of the main page was a picture of Nell outside of the dressing room. Holding her budget buster and smiling at it like a damn maiden in love. The picture had been taken before she’d seen Keith, which meant him being at Cherry Blossom definitely hadn’t been fate. He’d probably told Patricia to pretend to browse and done a sneaky ninja move to take the first picture he could. Damn Cherry Blossom for being on the Main Street strip where everyone could see everyone when they went into a store!
Olly was right, too—the out of context picture was cropped just right so no one could really tell it was taken outside of a dressing room.
What a perv bag!
A perv bag who was a coward to boot!
He’d credited the picture to Anonymous with a caption beneath it that read, “Jilted viral sensation Antonella Bennett has traded in her sob story for brand-new lingerie.”
Nell blinked several times.
The heat of embarrassment and rage began to war within her cheeks.
“Anonymous my ass,” she finally yelled out.
She gritted her teeth and read the actual blog post next, hoping it got better.
It didn’t.
The story was more or less the same as the caption. Keith recapped her video and rant and then started to posit that there must already be someone special in Nell’s life if she was excited for the new frilly thing she had been caught holding.
It was all completely, utterly, and fantastically ridiculous.
Which only meant that it wouldn’t be long before everyone in Arbor Bay knew about it.
Including her new boss.
Son of a freaking biscuit.
…
The office was weirdly quiet when Quinn walked in the next morning. He was a few minutes late thanks to an issue he’d had in his new tiny home.
It’s just growing pains from downsizing, he’d told himself. You’re not used to having to be so careful about where you walk after getting out of the shower.
Quinn wasn’t about to tell any Heart in Hand employees what had happened, though, growing pains be damned, when he finally made it into the lobby. Mostly because he’d already lost focus due to one car not being in the parking lot.
“Morning.”
He gave Tally a quick smile and then a nod to Jones, who was leaning against her desk with a coffee cup in hand. They both
looked up from the computer screen. Neither managed to pull up a poker face fast enough.
“Good morning,” Tally all but squeaked out. She popped up like a daisy, smiling wildly.
“Mornin’,” Jones added. He adjusted his glasses and, without a word, went to his desk in the corner.
Quinn made sure to keep his eyebrow down.
If whatever it was they were doing was work-related, they’d tell him, and if it was personal? Well, it wasn’t his business. He’d been the one late this morning, so it wasn’t like he had room to call them out on whatever it was. Plus, in the few days he’d worked at Heart in Hand, he’d had no problems with Tally or Jones.
Or Nell.
Quinn glanced at her desk.
Tally must have noticed. She lowered her voice and stepped around to face him.
“Nell called in a few minutes ago. She’s not, uh, feeling well.”
Quinn was surprised at how swift his concern flared up. It prompted a personal question before he could stop it.
“What’s wrong?”
Tally hadn’t expected that, and it showed. A blush crept up among her freckles.
“Lady problems. She’s having lady problems.”
Quinn cleared his throat.
“Oh. Okay. Well, I hope she feels better, then.”
Tally nodded and Quinn took his laptop bag to his office.
He knew all about lady problems from his ex-wife. She had endometriosis and often was forced to call out of work. Sometimes he’d come home and find her balled up on the couch in pain. It had bothered him how much he couldn’t do to help relieve any of that misery.
It also bothered him how much it bothered him now picturing Nell hurting by herself.
So much so that two hours later, despite every objection Professional Life Quinn made, Personal Life Quinn did something he hadn’t done in a long time.
“Hey, Tally, I’m going to take my lunch early. I’ll have my cell on, so let me know if you need anything.”
“Everything okay?” Tally asked, all concern.
“Yeah. Just something I need to take care of.”
Quinn left Heart in Hand and headed to Main Street, all the while wondering what the hell he was doing.
Chapter Five
The Twins was a residential area of Arbor Bay made up of two streets lined with small, colorful, and ornate houses made to look like they’d been there for years but had only popped up within the last five. Quinn only knew that because Ron had made a note of them on one of the rental cabins less than five minutes away, going as far as to say that he thought the Twins were out of place in the bayside town. A bright, awkward stain were his actual words. Something that didn’t really belong.
As Quinn got out of his car and walked along the attached sidewalk to a stately wooden front door, he did admit the two rows were a far cry from the rest of the neighborhoods in town. Each house looked like the mash-up between a vibrant, coastal Florida rental and a house you’d find in the French Quarter in New Orleans. Creative and loud. Wild and distracting.
Nell Bennett’s house was no exception.
Neither was the woman, if he was being honest.
The house was long and narrow, the windows were also long and donned by lime green shutters, the siding was sky blue, and the railing around the raised front porch was white and intricate. Its neighbors had differing color schemes in the pinks and oranges and greens and yellows, but Quinn decided that he preferred Nell’s house the most.
Though, when it came to the part where he was supposed to knock against the front door surrounded by candy-store colors come to life, Quinn went from observation mode to a staunch loop of two thoughts.
What am I doing here?
Don’t you dare knock!
Quinn readjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder and tried to reassure himself that he’d give the same attention for Tally or Jones if they were sick because that’s just what you did in a small town.
Right?
Right.
He knocked before Professional Life Quinn decided to point out that he didn’t even know where Tally or Jones lived and the only reason he knew where Nell did was because of her employee file.
That he looked up before heading to the store.
Which was a grossly unprofessional move and, if he was being honest with himself, a creepy one, too.
Regret and worry washed over Quinn now that the deed was done. He glanced back at his car and wondered if he started running now, could he be on the road and fleeing the scene before Nell even—
Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door.
Quinn stood straighter, all of his bad plans stacking on top of each other.
There was a moment of silence before the deadbolt turned.
Nell’s dark brown eyes looked him up and down through a sliver of an opening.
“Quinn?”
She pushed the door wide, giving him an uninhibited view. He was surprised at how not sick she looked. Her hair was piled on top of her head, her face was clear, and she was in sweats and an oversize T-shirt, but she looked well rested.
Maybe she was really good at hiding discomfort?
Or maybe she was just rocking that well-deserved confusion at her boss showing up at her home out of the blue.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well.” His voice came out gruff. “So I thought I’d check on you.”
Nell’s eyebrow quirked up and a look he couldn’t read flashed across her face. Then she lunged at him.
“You have to come inside now before anyone sees you!” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him with surprising force. “If Liere gets an eyeful of this, then we’re both toast.”
Quinn stumbled inside just as Nell moved with lightning speed to shut the door behind him.
“Liere?”
Nell rushed past him and turned into the living room. He watched as she went to one of the front windows and peeked around the curtain to look outside.
“My older sister. She lives in that house and works from home some days.” She waved him over and pointed to a violet and pink house. “She’s the mother hen of our sibling group and has this wicked power of making us squirm with just a look. Having a man at my house during work hours would definitely earn me one of those. Plus, if it got out I had a guy here? The gossip mill would just blow up at this point from overstimulation.”
“And what if she sees my car in the driveway?”
Nell moved the curtain back and waved off the concern.
“I can explain away a car, but a man standing on my front porch gets trickier. Especially a man she doesn’t know.”
Quinn nodded, feeling the urge to cringe at his overstepping visit.
“Yeah, about that. Sorry I just showed up. I should have called.”
Once again, Nell waved him off.
“You came to make sure I was okay. That’s what we in the small-town business call normal. With a side of sweet.”
She motioned for him to follow her through the living room and to the kitchen at the back of the house. On the way through, Quinn tried to respect her privacy by not taking in all of the details that made up her home. You know, after finding her address in paperwork and showing up unannounced.
“That also grants you a glass of sweet tea for the effort,” she added, pulling out one of two stools at the breakfast bar and patting it for him. “Unless you want coffee? You take it black like at the restaurant, right?”
Quinn snorted.
“I’ll actually just have some water if you don’t mind. I haven’t gotten used to how much sugar seems to go into ‘real’ sweet tea here and I’ve already had enough coffee to fuel a fleet of ships.”
He couldn’t explain how he knew, but Quinn would have bet all of his money that Nell rolled her eyes as she poured him some water from the pitcher i
n the refrigerator.
“Whatever you say, Captain,” she said as she walked back with a grin.
Then the water was between them and Quinn didn’t know exactly what to say. Something that Nell seemed to also be struggling with.
She sighed.
“So I’m assuming you’re really here because you saw the picture.” She dropped her gaze. “I know I shouldn’t have called out of work but I— Well, I was on the brink of either crying or raging today and thought it might be better to take a beat and avoid both if I could.”
Quinn didn’t understand.
“The picture? You mean the Valentine’s Day video?”
Nell crooked her head to the side. Obvious realization changed her expression before she closed her eyes for a second and gave one tight nod.
“You don’t like the internet,” she stated. “Which means, unless you chose last night to become Chatty Kathy with the locals, you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
Quinn felt his brow crease in on itself.
“Can confirm.”
“Then this is going to be another kind of embarrassing.”
She held up her finger and walked away. She was back with her laptop before he’d even set his bag down next to the stool.
“I hate to give him another click, but this is what Keith McHaulty posted on his glorified, not even good enough to be a tabloid blog.”
She stood back and waited as Quinn looked at the screen. A picture was at the top of the page.
“That’s you,” he realized.
“Yep. That’s me all right.”
That’s Nell holding lingerie. Frilly stuff. Sexy stuff.
Quinn held his tongue as he read over the text, damn sure not going to ask why she was holding a number like that.
Not your business.
But Nell wasn’t like most women Quinn had known. If something was embarrassing or awkward or weird, he was starting to see that she addressed it. Even if there was a cringe or blush attached.
Well, except their kiss at the restaurant.
Neither one of them had uttered a word about that. He reasoned that if she wanted to talk about it then she would. Who was he to force her to discuss something she didn’t want to?