Playing With Fire (Grindstone Harbor, #2)

by Cat Mason

  “Tanner,” I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I really don’t want to have this conversation where we can be interrupted and overheard by any of the other nosy ass bitches who currently live here,” I mutter, betting anything E and Bristol are on the other side of that wall, whispering to each other like a couple of teenage girls hiding in a bathroom stall.

  Tanner glances over at the door, his brows pinching together in irritation. “You’re back with him?” he asks, jerking his chin toward the doorway.

  “I’m not with Evan.” Looking back to me, his eyes search mine. “I’m not with anybody.”

  “Good. Because you should be with me.” Sliding his hand up my thigh, he bands his arm around my waist, shifting his body my way at the same time he pulls me closer. The heat coming off him sends a shiver down my spine, my heart beating so wildly in my chest it makes me lightheaded. Bringing up my hands, I flatten both palms against his abdomen. The battle that has been raging inside me since he got here intensifies. Do I give in and pull Tanner closer? Or do I shove him away and run like hell for the sake of my heart and sanity? My lips part, but I have no idea what to do or say. His lips are so close to mine I can feel them move when he finally whispers. “You belong with me.”

  “For how long this time?” I ask, his words taking me back to months ago, when I would have given anything to hear those words from him. When he made me feel that way about him. Finding myself, I push away, putting much needed space between us. “How long until you find a reason to run away again?”

  “I’m not running.” He hesitates before reaching for my hands. “You’re what I want. All I’ve fucking wanted.” Pulling them against his chest, his face fills with determination and resolve. “I’ll do whatever the hell it takes to prove that to you. Please let me fix what I fucked up when I left.”

  “Trust me, Tanner.” Unable to meet his eyes, I drop my gaze to our joined hands. “We’ve moved way beyond that now.” Tugging free of his hold, I stand and round the coffee table.

  “Like hell.” Leaping to his feet, he blocks my exit. “This conversation should’ve happened a long goddamn time ago. We’re finishing it.”

  “Move.”

  He arches a brow. “You gonna make me?” he challenges. “I’m not afraid of you, little girl. What I am, is tired of dancing around this shit. We both crossed that line, baby. It’s time we face the consequences of where that leaves us.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I laugh sarcastically. “Because I’m the one in denial. Wasn’t me that ran off like a little bitch when shit got too intense for them.” Clicking my tongue, I shake my head. “That was all you, baby.”

  “I’m here now, aren’t I?” Throwing up his hands in exasperation, he stares down at me. “Leaving was a mistake. How long are you going to make me suffer for it?”

  “Hmm. I don’t know.” Done with this conversation, I shrug a shoulder. “How ‘bout five months, give or take,” I deadpan, shoving around him. “That’s right around the same time the baby’s due.”

  “What the fuck?” he shouts at my back. “Quinn! Did you just say baby?”

  Stopping in the kitchen, I whip around to see Evan and Bristol standing in the corner, backs pressed to the wall in classic eavesdropper pose. My brother stands just feet behind them, his eyes wide with shock. Just. Fucking. Perfect. “Surprise!” I shout at Tanner, throwing up my hands. “You might be the father!”

  “Holy cock muffin with cheese. I didn’t think you’d ever ball up and tell him,” Bristol snorts, sounding relieved. “If only your legs stayed closed as well as your mouth.”

  “Thanks, B,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “Have I told you to eat a dick today?”

  Taking a step toward me, Tanner’s eyes drop to my stomach, his face a mix of clouded emotions. I can’t get a read on where his head is at. Not that I’m all too concerned with comforting him at this point. He sure as hell wasn’t here when I needed that. “Pregnant,” he says, testing the word on his tongue. “I don’t. I can’t. I mean...”

  “Trust me, it’ll take a little time to really sink in,” I inform him. “Especially when you’ve called the person you needed most a dozen goddamned times and they don’t pick up or bother to call you back.”

  “Shit,” he sighs, sounding defeated. I couldn’t give a shit if this hurts him. There isn’t a fuck left in me to give. I’ll happily own that bitch status with a clear conscience. It’s time for someone other than me to feel this shit weighing them down for once. I want him to feel the way I have since he left. He needs to hurt like I have. “Quinn.”

  “Save it.” Turning, I yank open the back door. “I wasted enough time talking to your voicemail.”

  Storming out of the house, I can’t get away fast enough. Every step of my bare feet, is harder and faster than the last. Punching the combination on the back gate, I take off down the beach. The water rushes over my toes, catching the tears silently slipping down my face.

  It pisses me off that I am running away from the conversation. The fact that I am doing the very thing I accused Tanner of doing when he left town isn’t lost on me. What makes this different is I’m taking a walk so I don’t kill him in front of a room full of potential witnesses, not flying across the country.

  At least I know Bristol appreciates me not getting blood on the floor.

  Tanner

  I STARE AT THE DOOR Quinn just disappeared through, as if she will instantly appear again. She’s pregnant. With a baby that could be mine. The other possibility makes my chest ache. What would happen if the baby were Evan’s? The possibilities bounce around in my head, shaking loose a hundred questions. None that I have answers to.

  “Earth to Tanner?” Bristol says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Why is it that I feel like I’m always telling you to go after her and fix your shit?” Her palm collides with my forehead. “Oh wait!” she shouts, rolling her eyes. “Because I am.”

  “I’ll go find her,” Evan says, taking a step toward the door. “She shouldn’t be by herself right now.”

  My eyes snap to his. His concern for her pisses me off. His instant need to be at her side like some goddamn shadow sends my jealousy into overdrive. “Back the fuck off.” Stepping between him and the door, I square my shoulders. “My place is with her. Not yours, asshole.”

  “Oh yeah?” he challenges, crowding my space. “Then why are you standing here ready to throw punches with me? I’m not fighting for a place in her life, man. I’ve been here the whole damn time.”

  “Trust me,” I growl, shoving at him as hard as I can. “That changes now.”

  “Enough!” Greer barks, getting between us. “While you two whip out your dicks to see who’s the bigger man, my sister is probably walking her knocked up ass to fucking Canada barefooted.” Glancing at me, he shakes his head. “All the time you and I spent trying to protect her from getting hurt by some shithead, and here you are, front and fucking center, breaking her goddamn heart.”

  “Shit.” Following him out, I leap over the railing to get in front of him. “Wait up, Greer.”

  “She the reason you hauled ass back to L.A.?” he asks, taking the steps two at a time. His face is hard, eyes raging. He is pissed, all of that anger focused on me. And I’ve earned every fucking ounce of it. “I guess that means you’re the reason she stayed here this summer, instead of coming back home?”

  “Guess that whole dick and ditch thing didn’t pan out like you thought it would,” Bristol chimes in, stepping outside onto the porch. “Huh, Tanner?”

  “I didn’t dick and ditch Quinn,” I argue, mad as hell that she would use the reference Greer and I used for groupies on the road to describe what happened between Quinn and me. Nothing between Quinn and me has ever been so simple. It’s also never been so easy to dismiss.

  “Wasn’t it more of a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em twofer?” she asks, leaning against the porch railing. “You also owe Tage a couch, asshole.”

  “Don’t you have a dick to eat?” I
fire back at her, earning both her middle fingers and a wink. Turning my attention back to Greer, I yank a hand through my hair. “This is on me. If I fuck it up—”

  “When,” Bristol snorts. I shoot her a glare. Shrugging, she snorts out a little laugh. “What? I love you like an annoying older brother, Tanner, but face it, your track record when it comes to Quinnie sucks massive hairy man ass. I’m just keepin’ it real.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.”

  Greer nods his head, his eyes still filled with anger toward me and concern for his sister. “Go,” he says, waving me off. “Just remember, we’re not done.”

  “No,” I agree, already starting for the opened gate. “We’re sure as hell not.”

  Greer deserves to hear what happened from me. I should’ve told him a long time ago that I had a thing for Quinn. One more fuck up I have to make right to add to my constantly growing list for later. Right now, my only priority is finding her and convincing her to give me another chance.

  Chapter Eight

  Late Night Lake Pirate Attacks

  Tanner

  Having spent the majority of the last hour walking up and down the damn beach, I haven’t caught even a glimpse of Quinn. At this point, I’m in full on panic mode. My imagination wanders with vivid flashes of her being carried off by some crazy bastard in a white van. Or picked up by pirates to be their onboard sex slave.

  Are there pirates on Lake Huron?

  Coming up on Tage’s house for the second time, I finally spot her sitting on a large flat rock, beneath the dim light at the beach line. Her blonde hair blows in the breeze of the night air. She stares out at the bridge lit up in the distance, her feet dangling off the side, toes dipping into the water.

  This isn’t a good thing. Quinn is a very opinionative and expressive person. A quiet and reflective Quinn is possibly the most terrifying and unsettling thing I have ever seen. Either she is about to go completely off her fucking hinges and begin a violent rampage by beating my ass before leaving me buried up to my neck in the sand to drown when the tide comes in. Or she no longer gives a shit and has written me off for good.

  I can only hope this is the calm before the storm. Because, to be completely honest, I’d much rather take the ass beating.

  Walking up, I sit down beside her, forcing myself to stare ahead, instead of looking at her. “Figured you were halfway to Canada by now.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” she admits, toying with the frayed edges on the end of her jeans skirt. “Then I remembered all the shoes I’d be leaving behind.” Laughing sadly, she reaches over and pats my knee. “Besides, who else is gonna fuck shit up around here better than I do?”

  “Stop hoarding all the blame,” I fire back, bumping her with my shoulder. “You never did like to share.”

  “Right.” She chuckles, the sound soft, but weighted with uneasiness. Shifting beside me, she glances my way. “Is this where you tell me that magically everything will be all right? Then we fuck on the rocks in the moonlight with the waves crashing over our bodies to the beat of some one hit wonder no one will remember in twenty years? Because we both know I’m not into that sappy-sweet romantic shit.”

  “I don’t know how to answer that.” My eyes snap to hers. “Are those trick questions? Because it feels like you’re baiting me into saying the wrong thing so you can slap me upside the head. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

  Throwing her head back, she explodes into a fit of hysterical laughter. Her arms come out, wrapping around her body as she doubles over, gasping for breath between fits of hilarity. Holy shit. I broke her. The woman has officially fucking snapped right in front of me on a beach in fucking Northern Michigan.

  “How cute,” she breathes, swiping at the tears streaming down her face. “You actually think I need an excuse for violence. Not that I don’t already have a few.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” Facing her, I can’t help looking her over, as if some difference in her is going to jump out at me. “You’ve been to the doctor? Everything’s okay with—”

  “The baby?” she snorts, finishing my sentence. “Yeah.” Looking down, she presses a hand to her abdomen. “I didn’t get exactly into specifics with the doc while his hand was all up in my fun box, he said everything’s normal.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. She arches her brow, looking somewhere between confused and offended. “Nothin’ about this is normal, Quinnie.”

  “You’re right.” Sighing, she turns her body toward and water again. “It really isn’t,” she agrees, resting her head on my shoulder.

  “You needed me.” Wrapping my arm around her, I tuck her into my side. Her body tenses, making me feel about two inches tall. “I wasn’t here. I am now. Whatever you need.”

  She huffs out a little laugh. “What happens when ‘whatever’ is inconvenient for you? What happens when you need to bolt to get your head right or ‘whatever’ the hell you were doing?”

  “Dammit, woman, that’s the whole point. I want you.” Tipping up her chin, I meet her tear-filled eyes. “What I need is you.”

  Quinn sucks in a breath and blinks several times as she takes in the depth of my words. “This isn’t about me anymore.” Pushing my arm away, she turns and slides off the rock to her feet. “It’s not about any of us.”

  My eyes drop to the footprints left in the sand behind her as she walks away. Each step she takes away from me is like a punch in the gut. “You’re right.” Jumping up, I charge after her, ready to put this shit to bed once and for all. Pushing through the gate, I snag her arm and whip her around to face me. Her hands fly up, gripping onto my forearms to steady herself. Looking up, she studies me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “This is about more than you and me,” I admit, tugging her into my arms. “But that doesn’t make me want you any less.” Her fingers tighten around my arms. Parting her lips, her gaze drops to my mouth. “Nothing can.”

  Her breath hitches. “Tanner, you have no—”

  “Be mad at me all you want,” I blurt, cutting her off. “Scream at me, kick my ass, tell me how much everything I say and do pisses you off. I can take it.” Sliding my fingers into her hair, I lean in and run my nose along hers. “It sure as hell can’t feel any worse than knowing I hurt you.”

  “Oh! Well, excuse me, asshole. I had no idea this has been so hard on you,” she fires back, releasing her hold on me to push away. “You know what? Fine. I’ll admit it. I’m pissed off that you left.” She steps back, forcing me to drop my hands. “I’m also angry that I spent so much time trying to hate you for being able to walk away and ignore me for months when I needed you.”

  “Here we go,” I say, gesturing with my hands for her to keep going. “Don’t hold back on me now.”

  “You made a choice and didn’t give a shit how I felt about it.” Straightening her shoulders, she narrows her eyes to razor sharp slits.

  “That’s absolutely not true, but okay,” I mutter, yanking a hand through my hair.

  “I gave you pieces of myself that night I’ll never get back. Did I miss you?” She huffs out a sarcastic laugh at one of the first things I asked when I saw her. “You’re a fucking idiot! Yes, I missed you. Fuck!” she shouts, throwing her hands up at the sky. “I can’t stop thinking about how it felt when you touched me. When I close my eyes, I can still feel your lips on mine.” Pressing her fingers to her mouth, she looks down at the sand between us, gathering her thoughts. “You know, I woke up on Tage’s couch, and there was this moment before I opened my eyes that everything felt... right.” Her eyes meet mine again, tears sparkling at the corners. “Then I reached for you.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but those deep blues give her away. They always do.

  “Baby, I’m—”

  “No!” she screams, shoving at my chest. “Don’t you dare apologize to me again. You don’t get to be sorry! Sorry doesn’t fix stuff like this, Tanner. Sorry doesn’t change anything. Once you burn a bridge, there’s no cros
sing it again. You’re stuck where you are, holding your box of matches.”

  “Wrong.” Refusing to let this be the end of the conversation, I take her face in my hands. Her breath hitches, fingers wrapping around my wrists. “If what’s waiting on the other side is worth it, you find a way to get back to it. Build another goddamn bridge if you have to. Brick by fucking brick. That’s what you do,” I growl, slamming my mouth to hers. What little hesitation and resistance I feel coming off Quinn, fades almost immediately. “Are we friends again?” I purr, grinning victoriously.

  “Not a fucking chance,” she breathes before biting down on my bottom lip.

  Another thing I know all too well about Quinn, she’s a piss poor liar.

  Dropping my hands to her ass, I pull her hard against me. “If you wanted to play rough, little girl, all you had to do was say please.”

  “Fuck please,” she pants. Her fingers slide up my arms, arms winding around my neck. “And fuck you.”

  “There’s something we agree on,” I reply, palming her ass through her skirt while yanking us toward the back door.

  Chapter Nine

  Countertop Fornication

  Quinn

  Tanner and I are a tangle of arms and legs as we stumble up into the house. Tearing his lips from mine, he rips my t-shirt over my head, tossing it behind his head before doing the same with his own. My body is on fire. Every inch of skin igniting at the touch of his fingers. Need for Tanner takes over, overriding every thought in my head that screams this is a bad idea.

  “Are we about to break three-nineteen?” I ask, fumbling to get his jeans open.