Reaching For Risks

by Jemi Fraser

  He didn’t move and his smile was like a wolf watching a rabbit. Except what she was feeling wasn’t fear. Not even close.

  Darby reached the stair above him and stopped so she was eye to eye with him. Her skin shivered from the electricity crackling between them. Without taking his eyes from hers Quinn reached down and took her hand. His eyes gleamed and an eyebrow raised when he felt her tremble.

  When he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly her bones nearly disintegrated. She knew she was smiling like a silly teenager but no one had ever kissed her hand. No one had ever made her want to melt. No one had ever made her feel so special. And he hadn’t said a word.

  Keeping her hand in his, Quinn used his other to trace along the edge of her jaw. Shivers ran down to her toes and her pulse kicked up past high gear. His hand moved to cup her jaw and his thumb came up to brush her bottom lip which dropped of its own accord.

  “So lovely.”

  His breath whispered along her cheek, where he dropped the lightest of kisses. Instinct had her turning her head, bringing her lips to his, hoping for the kiss she’d been imagining. Waiting for.

  “Darby, something’s going to burn up in here and I don’t have a clue what to do about it.”

  Myla. Sawyer.

  Dinner.

  As reality hit, Darby leaned back but Quinn didn’t move at all. Her eyes opened and she saw the flames burning in his. Her whole body flushed and his thumb brushed her lip again. “Soon, Darby. Soon.”

  Before she could get her mind to formulate actual words, he turned and tugged her down the final step, steadying her when she stumbled. Grinning, he leaned forward to kiss her hair then led her to the flight to the first floor. He released her and gestured with a flourish for her to go first.

  Once she’d stumbled to the bottom she looked back up to find him watching her. When Myla swung through the kitchen door into the foyer he backed up into the shadows.

  Myla squealed. “It’s perfect. I told you. You look amazing. I can’t wait for Sawyer to see you. Now, come and stop whatever’s burning. You know I can’t cook.” Myla grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. When Darby peeked back up the stairs she couldn’t see Quinn.

  She wanted to go back, figure out if she’d misread anything or if he’d truly wanted to kiss her. Had she been projecting her wishes onto him? No way. The heat had almost been physical.

  Instead, Myla pulled her right up to Sawyer, who’d pulled out the lasagna and turned off the timer. “I assume you wanted—“ his words trailed off as he got a look at her. For a long moment he just stared. Then he looked at his fiancée. “This is why you were bouncing on the way over here? You knew about this?”

  Myla grinned, not in the least intimidated by the scowl of the former SEAL which could make people faint at a hundred yards. Instead, Myla skipped over to him and hugged his arm. “Doesn’t she look fabulous?”

  Sawyer rolled his eyes and looked back to Darby. The wait was killing her. Finally, he grinned. “You look great, Darby. I like the hair.”

  She flipped it and struck a pose. “Thanks. I’m still getting used to it.”

  Her brother’s glare returned. “If anyone lays a hand on you, I’ll kill him.”

  Myla laughed at the growled words. “Sawyer, she’s a grown woman. Having a couple of hands on her is exactly what she should be wanting.”

  Sawyer growled some more as the kitchen door swung open. Quinn had to have heard Myla’s comment and Darby knew her skin was as red as the pasta sauce. Hoping to blame it on the heat, she moved to the stove and fussed with things that didn’t need fussing.

  The men greeted each other and started talking about renovations at both buildings. Myla came over to the stove. “You looked a little flushed when you came down the stairs. And just now.” Myla peeked over her shoulder. “Any particular reason?”

  Darby didn’t bother answering but her writer friend never let a non-answer stop her. “Is our sexy Mr. Charming Charters taking advantage of the close quarters?”

  Darby shook her head but Myla grinned. “I don’t believe you. He’s trying not to look like he wants to devour you in a single bite. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you tick off a few more items on that list of yours.”

  A quick check over her shoulder showed the men were probably far enough away and hadn’t heard Myla’s whisper. Still, she shook her head at her friend who continued to ignore her. “He’s a really nice guy. Sawyer likes him and he doesn’t like too many people. Go for it. Have you kissed him yet?”

  Shushing her was like trying to stop the ice thawing so Darby thrust some tongs at her. “Think you can toss the salad?” She pointed to the fridge where the salad was waiting.

  Myla’s grin widened. “I’ll accept the distraction. For now. And yes, salad is my specialty.” She looked over her shoulder again. “But heating things up in the kitchen? I’ll leave that up to you and Quinn.”

  Connecticut's Calling

  Quinn wanted nothing more than to kick his friends out of the house and do exactly what Sawyer was worried Quinn wanted to do. No way had his friend missed Myla’s innuendo and sly looks throughout the dinner. She had Darby blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl and Sawyer growling like a bear whose hibernation had been interrupted.

  “We don’t want a big wedding.” Sawyer’s statement had them all stopping and turning to stare at him. It was an obvious attempt to change the subject from Myla’s attempt to get Darby to embrace the clubbing scene in one of the big cities.

  Myla laughed and leaned up to kiss Sawyer’s cheek. “How sweet. You want to talk about the wedding.”

  “Yeah. That’s it.” Sawyer’s dry tone had them all chuckling but the distraction worked.

  “When are you planning to get married?”

  The two looked at each other and shrugged. “Soon.”

  Darby leaned forward. “Do you have any plans at all?”

  Myla grinned back. “I’ve never been to a wedding. I don’t have any family so I have no expectations or ideas. I just want to be married.”

  Darby’s eyes filled with tears and Quinn barely resisted taking her hand to comfort her. He watched her light up as an idea struck her. “Why don’t you get married here at the B&B? The deck in the back is big enough if you don’t want a lot of people. And we’ve got the front rooms painted in case it rains. We’ll be done in about a week. Is that soon enough?”

  For the next while he and Sawyer did nothing more than nod occasionally as the two women decided then changed their minds then decided again what would be required for a small wedding.

  Finally, Quinn stood up and grabbed some of the plates to clear the table. Sawyer joined him. He wasn’t sure either of the women even noticed them leave.

  They put the plates in the dishwasher, grabbed a couple of beers and headed out to the deck. At least it wasn’t raining. He shouldn’t be wasting the good weather when he could have been changing out the loose boards. Especially now they had a deadline.

  “You’re not going to make me kill you, are you?”

  Quinn choked on his beer and looked at his friend. It didn’t take a genius to know Sawyer had seen him watching Darby. “Not planning on it.” Which was true. He had no intention of hurting Darby. Helping her check off items on her list was something she wanted, not anything harmful.

  Sawyer studied him for a full minute before he sipped his beer. “Good.”

  The silence turned companionable and they relaxed in the dusk. After a bit, Quinn’s phone rang. Most people texted so it had him on alert. No name, just a number with a Maryland area code. Quinn pressed ignore and dropped the phone onto the table beside him.

  His face must have given something away because Sawyer’s eyebrow shot up. “Telemarketer?”

  “I wish. Connecticut number.”

  Sawyer swore softly and Quinn nodded in agreement. His friend no doubt remembered the fights and the anger. Sawyer had lost his parents to a car accident and while Quinn’s parents
were alive they’d shared the sense of loss, the lack of a true family. They’d bonded during that time, become their own kind of family. He could share with Sawyer what he wouldn’t tell anyone else.

  “I’ll have to change the number again if they don’t let up.”

  “Didn’t you do that a few months back?”

  Quinn sighed and nodded. And a few months before that, too.

  “You ever going to talk to them?”

  “Not if I can avoid it. Whatever they want, it isn’t something I’m willing to give. Ever.” but he knew he’d have to talk to them eventually. Now that he’d made the decision to stay in Bloo Moose and put down real roots it wasn’t as hard to face. He wasn’t living his life because of them anymore. When he’d struck out on his own every move had been to prove he could do it, that he didn’t need them for any damn thing.

  Now he was his own man. He made decisions without thinking about them at all. Maybe he should answer the next time. Explain to them he wanted nothing to do with them at all. Take the initiative and show up on their doorstep and find out why they were circling.

  Something to think about.

  A few minutes later the door between the deck and the B&B opened. He smiled as Darby came out but rose when he saw the worry on her face. Then he spotted the man following her and he froze in place. His father. Speak of the damn devil. Quinn slammed his beer down on the table. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Unfazed by the outburst, Lionel Charters moved forward to stand in front of his son. “I need to speak to you.”

  Quinn gripped his fists to stop them from slamming into his father’s face. Memories slammed into him. The arrogance, the disappointment, the snobbery, the bruises. The scheming and the shady deals. Shame slammed through him. He was the son of a despicable man and that man was bringing his slime into Darby’s B&B.

  “Not here.” Quinn turned on his heel and walked off the deck and through the back yard to the street. He turned toward the boardwalk not letting up his pace, not caring if the man followed him or not. His frustration took him past the first two piers. At the third one, he felt strong enough to control himself so he turned to walk to the end. Once there he gripped the top railing of the boardwalk and drew in deep breath after deep breath.

  His damn father.

  Quinn continued to reach for control. He hadn’t expected to be thrown so far off-kilter by the man’s appearance. Hell, he’d known the meeting was coming, had been planning it only moments before the bastard had shown up.

  He could do this. He wouldn’t let the memories win.

  “There is no reason we have to have this conversation in public. If you’ll follow me to the car, we can go to your home.”

  Public? There wasn’t a soul on the pier. “If you don’t like the surroundings, feel free to leave.” Quinn didn’t look at him, knew he wasn’t all the way ready.

  The familiar sniff of disdain reached his ears and Quinn gripped the railing more tightly.

  It took a minute but his father spoke again. “There is no need to be uncivilized. You could at least do me the courtesy of looking me in the eye. You were raised with better manners than that.”

  Fury gripped Quinn and he whirled to face his father, pleased to see the man back up a step. “Manners? You think you can talk to me about manners? Is it good manners to treat people based on their wealth or how they earn a living? Is it good manners to cheat people out of their life savings through some investment mumbo-jumbo? Good manners to take a cane to a kid?”

  Quinn pulled in another breath to bring his bellows under control. “Good manners means treating all people with respect.” He looked over the expensive tailored suit with some disdain of his own. “At least until they haven’t earned it anymore. Guess where you stand?”

  Anger flashed in eyes so like his own but was quickly banked. “Fine. We will discuss this here. You are needed at home.”

  Quinn snorted. And waited. And waited some more. “That’s it? I’m needed at home? I am at home and I’m needed here.” Not strictly true as Bloo Moose would move along fine without him but he needed to be here which was almost the same thing.

  His father’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you making this difficult? We’ve run into a situation and your presence is required at home.”

  Despite himself, he asked, “A situation?”

  “Yes.”

  That was it.

  Quinn waited but nothing more came. Shaking his head in frustration, he ran his hands through his hair. “Can’t you speak plainly? What is it that’s wrong? What is it you want from me?” His stomach tightened at another thought. “Is someone sick?”

  Lionel Charters took his eyes off his son and looked out to the water. After a long pause, he turned back. “Our financial situation has worsened. We require your assistance to restore it.”

  Quinn stared. Ran his hands through his hair and stared some more. “You’re broke and you want me to fix it.”

  “Your choice of words is vulgar.”

  A grim laugh burst out of Quinn but there wasn’t an ounce of amusement in it. “But, I’m right, aren’t I? Seriously? You’ve squandered millions of dollars? How is that even possible? Or did one of your slimy schemes catch up to you?”

  His father’s eyes were blue ice. “The details are unimportant. You can see the paperwork once you’re at home.”

  Quinn turned back to the water, tried to take it all in. He didn’t know much about his family’s money but he’d always assumed it was vast. Gone? Didn’t seem possible.

  If he believed his father. The man’s record was not a shining example of truth-telling. Quinn doubted Lionel knew the difference between the truth and what lie would help him the most.

  “I’ve already told you that I am at home. I’m not going back to Connecticut. I have no desire to go. Bloo Moose is my home.”

  He glanced at his father who might have been a statue but for the anger in his eyes. “And while I’m doing well for myself, I’m not rich by your standards. I’ve worked damn hard for what I have and I’m not donating it to cover your sorry ass. I don’t know what it is you want from me but I know I don’t have it.”

  Quinn shoved off the railing and took two steps away. His father’s deep breath had guilt zigzagging its way through him and his feet slowed. Fine. “I believe you know my number. Call me after nine tomorrow morning and we’ll figure out a time for a meeting. Here, not in Connecticut.”

  Quinn turned to face the image so like his own, wondering again if only the superficial genes were strong or if he’d inherited the other crap as well. “I’m not saying I’ll help. I’m not saying I’ll have a clue what to do and I’m sure as hell not giving you so much as a dime but I’ll listen.”

  His father nodded and Quinn walked away.

  Again.

  DARBY sat at the top of the stairs waiting for Quinn to come home. Well, not his home. Hers. She knew it wasn’t his home but she thought he would come.

  So many emotions had flashed across his face when she’d led his dad onto the deck. None of them happy. She shouldn’t have let the man in. Should have asked Quinn first. Was he angry at her, too angry to come back?

  Sawyer hadn’t said much after the two men had stormed off the deck and out of the yard, but enough to let her know Quinn hadn’t seen his parents in years. By his choice and probably theirs.

  Apparently Quinn hadn’t lived up to their expectations, which she found impossible to believe. He was such a good man. Hard-working, reliable, loyal, funny. Charming and sexy but those might not be what a parent thought about. Everything about Quinn was solid, definitely a son who should make a parent proud.

  Not the Charters. Sawyer described them as total snobs who thought their son had been slumming when he spent time with the residents of Bloo Moose as opposed to hobnobbing with the rich and pampered summer people who lived in the mansions on the bluffs surrounding the town.

  After Sawyer and Myla had gone, Darby had wandered the B&B then taken a
walk down to the boardwalk and back but she hadn’t spotted Quinn. No lights in CharterGear to indicate he was there.

  Now it was late and he still hadn’t returned but she couldn’t give up and go to bed. Not until she knew he was okay.

  Had his father convinced him to leave? Had they had an argument of some kind? They’d both looked angry enough. Lionel had looked desperate, too. What did he want from Quinn?

  Darby shuddered and pulled her robe more tightly around herself. Both of his sons looked very much like Lionel Charters. Same features and eyes but Quinn’s were the only ones that held any kind of warmth. Philip more closely resembled his father. Was the father like his eldest son in other ways, too? Trying to take what wasn’t his?

  The late hour, the rainy night and the worry made it impossible for Darby to push away the memories like she normally would and her mind traveled back to the night Philip had lain in wait for her to get home from her shift at the ice cream parlor.

  She’d smelled those breath mints as she’d opened her apartment door. The smell had been strong enough to have her turning as she opened the door. His eyes had been wide and filled with enough craziness to have her scrambling away but he’d been too fast, too strong.

  He’d shoved her through the door, strong arms pressing her to the ground with her feet hanging out in the hallway. “The time for playing hard to get is over.” The shock of that had hit her as hard as her head hitting the floor. She’d noticed Philip watching her but had always been creeped out by him, always looked away and never returned the smiles.

  When she’d protested, Philip had slapped her, sending her head spinning. No one had ever hit her and the shock had paralyzed her for a few seconds. He’d leaned forward, trying to put his mouth on hers, all the while telling her she was going to get what she’d been asking for.

  The front door of the B&B closed, hurtling Darby back to the present. She huddled deeper into the shadows and wrapped her arms around herself. Quinn. Not Philip. Quinn, who’d been so hurt so sad.