Reaching For Risks

by Jemi Fraser

  Nerves skittered through her and she checked the mirror again. Other than hiding in her old clothes, there was nothing she could do about the change.

  Forcing out a laugh, Darby turned from the mirror. Wiffle-waffling was going to land her in the looney bin. If she didn’t do this, Myla would hunt her down and hurt her. The woman might be small but she was feisty.

  After Myla had spent the entire day helping her check off half the list, she couldn’t let her down by retreating.

  Darby moved to the desk to grab her notebook. Checking off the items she’d accomplished would give her the necessary courage to march her brand new self into the world.

  The notebook wasn’t in the drawer. Or on the desk. Or the nightstand. Or the dressers. Or anywhere in her room or in the bathroom. Where had she left it?

  Her entire body flushed as she remembered shoving it in a kitchen drawer while Quinn had teased her about designing lingerie for the Nosy Trinity.

  What if he’d found it?

  What if he’d read it?

  Darby sank to the bed while panic raced through her. If Quinn read the Risk List, he’d know she was pathetic for sure. How could she have left it there?

  What if he hadn’t found it yet but was even now rummaging through the kitchen searching for something to eat?

  Darby flew down the back stairs and slid into the island as she yanked the drawer open. The red cover sitting there made her knees sag and she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the countertop and get her breath back.

  The Risk List was safe. Quinn hadn’t found it. He didn’t know she was a complete idiot.

  “You okay?”

  Quinn’s voice had her jerking up and nearly stumbling backward as she shoved the drawer closed at the same time. The swinging door behind him showed he’d just entered from the dining room. She hadn’t heard a thing over the pounding of her heart.

  He frowned at her and looked quickly around the kitchen then back to her. His eyes ran over her quickly then flicked away to look around the kitchen.

  When he whipped his head back to check her out again, he took two steps forward so he could see her without the island in his way.

  This time, his eyes tracked from the top of her head to her pink toes and right back up, again. Then again.

  “Are you...” Quinn’s voice cracked then he swallowed and spoke, again. “Are you okay? I heard you flying down the stairs. You’re not hurt?”

  Disappointment crashed through her. He hadn’t been checking her out at all, he’d been checking for injuries. “I’m fine.”

  Quinn’s eyes trailed over her once more. Lingering? Or she’d fallen apart in her rush down the stairs. Had something popped loose? Unzipped?

  A quick peek showed nothing had fallen off or out.

  “You are.”

  What?

  Darby’s eyes flew back to Quinn. He smiled one of those slow, panty-melting smiles. “I’m agreeing with you. You said you were fine. I agree.”

  How did he mean that?

  Uninjured? Or something better?

  Darby searched his eyes and reached for her composure but it wasn’t within reach. She must be winded from her run down the stairs. That was it.

  Quinn stepped forward and rested his hip against the island, less than a yard from her. “I like the new look, Burlington agrees with you.”

  Darby squeezed the counter to stop her hands from clapping like a two-year old getting an ice cream cone. Approval from a neutral third party. A male third party. And a sexy one at that. When her breath stuttered, she swallowed hard. Hyperventilating would ruin the image she’d worked so hard to create.

  “Thanks.” Her voice squeaked.

  “Any reason for the changes?”

  Had he seen the list? Was he making fun of her? No. It had to be an innocent question, the book was right where she’d left it. He was just asking what every other person in Bloo Moose was going to ask. This was good practice for her.

  “Thought it was time for something different.”

  There. That sounded grown-up. Reasonable. Not pathetic.

  Quinn’s eyes did the lingering thing again, sending fireworks off under her skin wherever he looked. She put all of her energy into not squirming. When his eyes made their lazy way back to hers, she thought she spotted desire but before she was able to bask, she flashed back to Philip.

  The change was instantaneous. One moment she was enjoying the moment with Quinn, the next fear rippled through her as Philip’s eyes leered as he forced her to the floor. His breath on her cheek. His hands grabbing.

  Quinn. Not Philip. Quinn.

  Darby closed her eyes to clear her head, to settle herself and when hands landed on her shoulder, she squealed.

  Quinn.

  “Darby?”

  Quinn. No desire, not anymore. Confusion and concern. All of that helped her take a deep breath and see him, really see him. Drawing in a deep breath she nodded and forced a smile. Hopefully, it was a smile. She kept her feet in place even though they wanted to flee.

  Quinn’s hands moved softly on her shoulders, offering comfort. Another thing that distinguished him from his brother. Stronger but gentler. Kinder. Her body relaxed, reminding her that it trusted the man in front of her even if her brain hadn’t gotten completely on board with the plan.

  One of Quinn’s hands touched her chin urging her to look him in the eye. Definitely concern. No demand or selfishness or cruelty. Another deep breath.

  “Sorry. I’m fine.”

  Which made Quinn smile and raise an eyebrow at her. As she remembered his earlier words she managed a smile and even a real breath.

  It only took a moment for her pulse to kick up and her body to react to that smile. Despite her memories, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her but instead of leaning in Quinn studied her for long moments.

  Finally, he pulled her in for a hug and kissed her forehead. “Fine indeed, Darby. Not that you’ve ever been anything but.” His words shocked her and he squeezed her, brushed his lips against her hair before he released her. “Come on, let me show you what I accomplished yesterday.”

  He tugged her hand and she followed him through the swinging door. She’d never been anything but? Did he mean that?

  And how did she work up enough bravery to find out?

  First Contact

  Quinn held onto Darby’s hand, afraid her new image might disappear if he let her out of his sight. She’d always been pretty, those eyes had always jumped out at him but the new look stripped her of the things she’d been hiding behind and let him see the real her.

  He wanted to drag her up to his king-sized bed and show her exactly how beautiful she was but the fear and wariness in her eyes stopped him. Again. Until he’d gotten close to her she hadn’t been scared at all. Nervous, turned on, sexy as hell. Then boom, afraid.

  At least she hadn’t run away this time. He wanted to dig deep and find out what the hell she was afraid of. Find out if it was him. For now, he’d get her relaxed again.

  On the second floor, he pulled her into one of the smaller bedrooms where he’d fixed the leaking tub and changed out the toilet. “You were supposed to take the day off.” He shrugged and grinned.

  “That leak’s been driving me batty for months. I couldn’t figure it out. Thank you.”

  She reached out to hug him, surprising them both. The hug was brief but he enjoyed the brushing of their bodies. All cylinders firing, he resisted kissing her and instead grabbed her hand and led her back down the stairs to the dining room.

  Darby gasped and let go of his hand to walk into the room. She turned around slowly eyes moving from the furniture he’d dragged to the middle and covered, to the ceiling he’s painted and back to the one wall he’d done.

  He’d chosen a lighter blue than the front room with a hint of grey in it. “It’ll be a little deeper once the second coat’s on.” Which she knew but her silence was too tough to take. “I only did the one wall in case you don’t like it.
” But she would. He knew it.

  The deep color in the front room had made her a bit nervous at first but she liked it now. She’d like this one too. Except her eyes kept flicking around the space, out the windows, to the front room and back.

  Trying to decipher her reaction was making him nervous. Would she think he’d overstepped?

  Watching her move was addictive. He studied her new outfit as she traveled the rooms. Snug jeans hugged curves and confirmed his suspicions about the great ass she’d been hiding.

  The t-shirt shouldn’t have been sexy but it was. It skimmed her breasts, making his hands itch to do the same. The neck dipped low enough for him to kick his imagination into gear and he wanted to peek inside to see if she’d added some of the sexy lingerie she’d added to her list.

  At this rate, she’d have the whole list checked off in no time. He’d have to up his game if he was going to prevent her from doing any of it with one of her sexy strangers.

  Finally, Darby moved to the paint cans and read the color on the lid. “Blueberry Tea?” Her laugh made him want to strip her naked where she stood. Hell, everything about her made him want to strip her naked. “You don’t strike me as a tea granny.”

  He leaned against the doorframe and raised an eyebrow at her comment. Tea granny? He scowled in her direction but when she looked, she laughed again. “Ever think of taking up interior design. It’s perfect.”

  Whew. “Of course it’s perfect. I think I’ll nix the storage upstairs of my shop and open a studio. CharterDesign. No wimpy paint colors or non-colors, only bold and bright choices.”

  He loved watching her laugh. “I’ll be your best customer.” This time she managed eye contact for ten whole seconds. Progress.

  “How about we finish these walls then see if you still think I’m a genius.”

  The next few hours flew by companionably, the conversation light and easy. It seemed as long as they weren’t looking at each other, they got along fine. And the more they got to know each other, the more he wanted Darby looking at him. Right at him.

  His cell phone buzzed as they were eating chicken pot pies for lunch. He finished a bite while digging out the phone. Rayce. Drop by sometime this afternoon. If anything was wrong, Rayce would have said but the request made him worry anyway.

  “Go.” Quinn looked up at Darby who had pushed away her unfinished plate. “Whatever it is, it’s making you frown. You’re worried so go and deal with it.” Beautiful and insightful.

  If he wanted to stick with his plan of getting her to relax completely around him, leaving was probably a good idea. All morning he’d been on the edge of tossing her over his shoulder and heading for the nearest bed. So he’d go but first he grabbed her plate to finish the pie she hadn’t.

  Twenty minutes later Quinn walked up to the second floor of CharterGear to find Rayce finishing off a sandwich and thermos of coffee. His buddy had definitely been screwed in the food department. No matter which way he looked at it, Quinn had gotten the better end of the deal.

  Rayce showed him what he’d done with the repairs on the wall and roof. “The crash did damage to the whole roof so I’d like to order in a beam for here.” The carpenter walked him through the technical details and choices, leaving Quinn very glad they’d switched jobs. He might be a genius selecting paint but dealing with this much damage was well beyond his skill set.

  “Whatever you think’s best, Rayce. It’s out of my league.”

  “Okay, I’ll get the beam in from my guy in Burlington. How’re things going at the B&B? You holding up your end all right?”

  He thought of Darby’s reaction to his paint choices. “Good enough to be getting chicken pot pie for lunch and salmon for supper.”

  Rayce sighed and looked at his lunch box. “You owe me, Charters. Big.”

  Quinn laughed on his way down the stairs, eager to get back to the B&B. Rayce’s voice caught him before he’d reached the door. “There’s a registered letter for you on the counter. I signed for it.”

  Hell.

  He’d been refusing the damn letters for months. Hadn’t even thought about one arriving when he was with Darby. The envelope lay on the counter and for a long moment he considered leaving it there. Better still throwing it in the recycling bin. If his family wanted him badly enough they could show up on the doorstep. He wouldn’t be hard to find here especially with his name on the sign.

  He stepped closer and sure enough the return address was Connecticut. Parents or brother. No one he wanted to hear from. Ever.

  He hadn’t seen them since the old man had flipped and tried to beat the hell out of him with that cane. Lionel declared Quinn was a disgrace, no son of his. A disappointment because he wasn’t living up to the family ideals. Failing the family. Shaming them.

  Well, shame was a two-way street. The old man had done nothing but shame him from the time Quinn was old enough to understand.

  Even buying the house here in Bloo Moose to try to schmooze with a senator had been typical. He’d hoped to hobnob with the political elite of the country. The senator hadn’t been impressed with Lionel’s lack of work ethic or attitude toward the working class. When Lionel had figured out the man wasn’t the patsy he’d expected he’d sold the house.

  Quinn had voted for the senator ever since.

  Lionel could only want something Quinn wouldn’t be willing to give. If he’d been reaching out to mend their relationship he’d have shown up. No, the man wanted something and the only thing the man ever wanted was money or an easy way out. Quinn wasn’t willing to give him either so he tossed the unopened envelope in the bin.

  TWO days later, Darby looked herself over in the mirror. This would be the first time her brother had seen her since Makeover Day. First time anyone but Quinn and Myla had seen her.

  She’d almost gotten used to seeing herself in the mirror. Resisting throwing one of Sawyer’s hoodies over her outfits continued to be tough but she’d managed. Mostly.

  The fact that she caught Quinn’s eyes on her almost every time she turned around helped. And scared the bejeepers out of her. He hadn’t made any moves on her to make her uncomfortable but his gaze burned life into her body. Every time she chose clothes she thought of his reaction.

  In one of the universe’s cruel jokes, she’d been attracted to Quinn from the first moment he’d arrived in town. Drooling over and fantasizing about him had helped bring her out of the grey world she’d descended into after the deaths of her parents. It had been almost a year and she and Sawyer had still been finding their footing. Sawyer had signed up for the military and she’d been so lost.

  Attending baseball games with her friends had been a distraction she’d enjoyed, especially watching Quinn play shortstop. Quick both athletically and intellectually he’d been the best player on the field, possessing an uncanny knowledge of where each batter would hit.

  He’d been two years older than her, one younger than Sawyer and she’d been one of many groupies. He’d never noticed her as anything but his buddy’s kid sister but he’d been kind.

  Unlike Philip.

  Darby shook her head. Quinn, not Philip. They were nothing alike and the more time she spent with Quinn the more she knew it. Deep down inside her knew it.

  Could he check off Number Eight? Six or nine? The idea of flirting with and kissing Quinn stirred something deep inside her. And terrified her at the same time. What if she messed it up?

  The last thing she needed was a basketful of awkward when they were thrown together. With Sawyer and Quinn’s friendship that would happen a lot. Better to leave the temptation alone. Ignore it. She had no intention of being the star of her own romantic comedy disaster.

  Darby swung the skirt of her sundress reminding herself of the Nosy Trinity. She hadn’t owned anything but jeans in so long she felt as conspicuous as if she was wearing an evening gown and tiara. Would they laugh at her? Not aloud but would she see it in their eyes? They wouldn’t be able to hide it if she looked completely ridiculous
.

  Myla had assured her the dress was great, casual enough for daytime but spruce-up-able for a date if she wanted. Her friend had even sent her a text reminding her she’d promised to wear it but Darby worried it might be too much of a change. Too dressy. Maybe something simpler like jeans and a blouse.

  “Something’s beeping in the kitchen, Darby. You want me to do something about it?” Quinn’s voice reached her from the floor below. Because she was already looking in the mirror she saw her face and body react to his voice. An automatic smile and a flush across her cheeks and on the skin above the bodice of the dress.

  She was a mess.

  Maybe he should be her guinea pig for the Risk List after all. He had offered to help her with things he hadn’t been specific. Maybe he wouldn’t mind.

  “Darby?”

  “Coming.” Her voice sounded breathless and shaky so she tried again. “I’ll be down in a second. Thanks.”

  Blowing out a big breath, Darby turned from the mirror and grabbed a light cardigan. A new one. No frayed edges or rolled-up sleeves. Nothing the Nosy Trinity would wear. It actually hugged her shape. Was it too tight? Heaving a sigh, Darby told her doubts to shut up, turned away from the mirror and headed down the stairs.

  She didn’t see Quinn waiting at the bottom until she was halfway down the flight. His wide eyes were doing that lingering thing again. On her legs. She hadn’t bothered to grab sandals but now her bare feet felt exposed. Ridiculous. She’d spent as much of her life as possible barefoot, this was nothing new.

  Darby’s steps slowed and she couldn’t tear her eyes from Quinn. His smile was slow and sexy and when his eyes met hers they were hot. Flaming. Every girlie part she owned started to flutter and her hands trembled.

  If there was ever a time to try flirting this was it but her mind was blank. Well, not completely blank. It was screaming at her to launch herself into his arms and kiss the breath out of him. She couldn’t do that. Could she?