Reaching For Risks

by Jemi Fraser

  On the front porch, Darby hesitated. Maybe she should go back and practice some moves in front of the mirror. Myla insisted flirting would come naturally but that wasn’t the case for Darby.

  She had proof she wasn’t normal. Her blatant attempt to seduce Quinn had been a bust. He’d never even mentioned it proving she wasn’t memorable.

  No. No more negative thinking. Quinn obviously wasn’t interested so she’d go flirt with someone who might be. She could do this.

  Spending the rest of her life as forgettable wasn’t an option. She’d created the Risk List for a reason and the reason was still valid. Time to move forward and stop being such a coward.

  “Darby? You okay there, honey? You’ve been standing there for five full minutes. Is everything all right?”

  Darby flinched. Five minutes? She faked a smile and waved at her neighbor. “Everything’s fine, Mrs. Ritchie, just thinking through my list before I head out.”

  The older woman smiled at her but didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m heading to the hardware store. It’s my Renovation Break.”

  Mrs. Ritchie’s smile widened. “And who is it you’re trying to impress in that new outfit of yours? Trying to catch yourself a man, are you?”

  Darby gritted her teeth to keep the smile from slipping. “I don’t think they sell men at the hardware store. Gotta run, now.” She bolted down the front steps and along the sidewalk, leaving her cackling neighbor behind.

  Once Darby turned the corner onto Boardwalk Avenue she slowed down and relaxed. Now she’d have to come home with more than a few paintbrushes because Mrs. Ritchie would be checking and Darby had said she had a list.

  How would the woman react if she came home with a man?

  The thought made her giggle and she hoped no one was watching. B&B owner going mad. Sadly inane giggling and standing in a daze on a porch didn’t equate to the gossip she had in mind when she’d added that to her list.

  Darby forced herself to walk with her head up and her eyes open for hot strangers. Predictably the entire street was full of locals most of whom doubled her age.

  At Pete’s Paint Store Darby grabbed one of the small carts and headed down the first aisle. No one. Not even Pete, whose wife would come after her with a power tool if she flirted with him.

  Two aisles, three paint rollers, a drill bit set and a new level later, Darby was ready to give up. Perversely she was annoyed at the thought. She’d finally geared herself up for flirting and she didn’t want to have to tell Myla it was a waste of time.

  The bell above the door rang, signaling a new customer. Maybe. Wishing she’d opted for the heels she rose up on tiptoe to peek over the aisle. Male. Tall, full head of black hair but with his back to her she couldn’t tell his age.

  Her heart sped up anyway and she pushed her cart closer to the front of the store hoping flirting would come naturally like Myla said. She was female, he was male. It should be easy.

  The dark head popped up over the shelves and Darby picked up her pace. At the end of the aisle, she paused to take a breath, smooth down her skirt then pushed the cart slowly around the corner avoiding looking at the man. That way lay disaster. Nothing obvious, she was shopping.

  A sales display of cheap power drills and reciprocating saws covered the shelves in front of her. Perfect. Men liked to feel helpful to women, didn’t they? Keeping her eyes on the tools Darby moved along slowly, pushing the cart ahead of her.

  Confusion. She should project confusion. Darby stopped and heaved out a sigh and tapped her hand on her cart.

  No response.

  Darby reached forward and let her hand graze over one reciprocating saw and then the next. Then she pulled her hand back to rest it on her hip. Would that draw his attention? Or would touching her lips be better? How did those women in the rom coms do it?

  Lips. A bit pouty. Huff out a soft breath. Soft was sexy, right? Made a man feel strong? Maybe.

  Nothing. No reaction at all. She wanted to send a look of confusion and bat her eyes but that seemed too obvious. Plus eye contact was way too scary. Maybe more body English.

  Instead of squatting down like a normal person, she kept her knees straight and bent over to look at the saw blades, sighing again. She flipped through the blades but apparently her backside sticking up in the air wasn’t working either.

  “Why are you looking at that crap, Darby? Your tools are much better than that stuff.”

  Rayce. Darby straightened up and her foot slipped from the awkward position she’d been holding. She flailed to keep her balance but lost the battle and stumbled backward. Before she hit the floor, a pair of strong arms reached under her armpits and hauled her back upright.

  Arms and hands that felt familiar. Along with the scent. Quinn.

  “What the hell are you doing?” His voice was tight, hard.

  Face flaming, Darby looked up to find his eyes as hard as his voice. A look at Rayce made her squirm. He was holding in a laugh or at least trying to hold it in. Great.

  She was going to kill Myla for encouraging her without lessons. Instead of sparking interest, her flirting attempt made Rayce laugh and Quinn fume. Not what she was aiming for.

  Gritting her teeth, Darby shifted herself from Quinn’s grasp and brushed at the skirt of her dress as if it was dirty. “Thanks. Must have slipped on something.”

  Rayce lost his battle at saving her dignity and snorted out a laugh. Quinn growled and grabbed her arm. “What the hell was that?”

  She shook free without a word and tried to push past him. She’d gotten a couple of steps when his voice stopped her. Hard, like his eyes. “Forget anything?” Darby whirled and grabbed her cart. Her face might be red but if she got out of there immediately she might be able to hang onto a shred of dignity.

  Without looking at either man, she spun the cart around and would have smashed it into Quinn if he hadn’t slammed his hands onto it. “No saw?”

  Refusing to answer, she shoved at the cart but he didn’t release it. Rayce laughed again and she heard him retreating down the aisle. Good. One witness to her humiliation down. One to go.

  One big one who wasn’t budging.

  “Excuse me.”

  “No.” She shoved at the cart but couldn’t budge it an inch. “Not until you tell me what the hell that was. What were you trying to do?”

  Trying to do? She was even worse at this flirting thing than she thought.

  Face hot enough to heat a small planet, she tried shoving the cart again. He shoved it right back. When she tried again, he growled and leaned forward to trap it in place. And put himself at her eye level.

  “Was that flirting, Darby? With Rayce? Didn’t appear to be very effective if his laughter’s anything to go by.”

  She’d already figured that out but if she said it she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep in the tears.

  “If you want a man’s attention, you don’t have to stick out your ass and act stupid.”

  She’d been going for helpless. Good to know she couldn’t even pull that off. Maybe it was time to ditch the list completely.

  Quinn reached across the cart and nudged her chin up. Furious eyes. “You want to flirt, look him in the eye. Like this. Let him see your interest.” His voice hardened with each word.

  “You want to flirt with him so bad, try actually talking to him.” She opened her mouth but he plowed right over her words. Anger poured off of him. “Be real. Nothing’s sexier than a woman who knows who she is and what she wants. Be yourself, Darby, not some stiff and awkward mouth-breathing twit.”

  With that, he released her and the cart and stormed out of the shop.

  Darby sucked in a deep breath and hoped no one else had wandered into the store. Stiff and awkward. Mouth-breathing twit.

  If it would have worked, she’d have used one of the saws to cut an escape hold through the floor. Except the ones on display really were crap.

  QUINN stormed out of the store and down the sidewalk. Darby was trying h
er damn list out with Rayce LaChance. Wanted to take risks with Rayce. And while her attempt at flirting with the man had been pretty damn pathetic, she’d been trying. With Rayce. Who’d been laughing at her.

  The woman didn’t need to flirt to attract a man. All she needed to do was breathe. No man with his head on straight could resist those eyes. Or the heart behind them.

  Except for Rayce apparently. Which meant Quinn wouldn’t have to kill him. But Rayce was only a man and if Darby learned the finer arts of flirting, LaChance wouldn’t stand a chance. And Quinn wouldn’t have a choice.

  Seriously pissed and not fit for human company, Quinn stomped into CharterGear hoping like hell Rayce was smart enough not to be behind him. Or Darby. The mood he was in, he’d toss her onto the nearest horizontal surface and have her check off every item on that damn list.

  On second thought, the surface wouldn’t have to be horizontal. The wall would work as well. Or the door. She wanted to cause some gossip, didn’t she? Having sex up against the glass door to his shop ought to fill the bill.

  Maybe he should have dragged her along with him.

  Half-tempted to go back and find her, Quinn turned to the door and immediately wished he hadn’t.

  Philip stood on the other side.

  Without knocking or waiting for an invitation, his older brother strolled into the store and looked around.

  “The old man didn’t like the answer so he’s sending in the second string?” Quinn’s tone was nowhere near friendly. Hell, it was way past confrontational. Fight ready. And he hoped his brother would oblige.

  In response, Philip narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth then closed it again, obviously remembering he was hoping for cooperation. For long minutes, his eyes traveled the store. “So, this is why you turned your back on your family?”

  A laugh barked out of Quinn. Not hardly. He’d turned his back on his family because they were horrible people. He felt no connection to the man in front of him. Certainly not a connection like the one that shimmered between Sawyer and Darby. Or the LaChance brothers and their sister Lil.

  Their looks identified the Charters as brothers but the similarities ended there. Philip had never enjoyed sports, had never seen the purpose of them. He’d never had a work ethic and expected things to come easily and often to him.

  Quinn had always figured business and finance appealed to his brother because he enjoyed the sneakiness of the transactions. Even as a child, Philip had enjoyed pitting his classmates against each other then standing back and watching the fallout. He kept himself separate. Above.

  Or so he thought.

  Quinn wouldn’t trust him with a quarter never mind a whole dollar. He was a Lionel clone, exactly as he’d always aspired to be.

  It scared the hell out of Quinn. He shared the same genes. What if he was fooling himself? What if underneath it all he was the same? Maybe all it would take would be an undue amount of stress or a threat and he’d lose it. Lose himself.

  Philip tried to wander the store but was put off by the limited space between the clothing racks. Instead of letting them touch his pretty tailored suit, he took to the edges and checked out the shelves. The absurdity of his uptight jerk of a brother checking out snowmobile helmets and tennis racquets helped Quinn relax. He was on his own turf and they were the ones begging for his help. He wouldn’t be intimidated. Not anymore. And he sure as hell wouldn’t be like them.

  Aiming to prove he was nothing like his brother, Quinn moved to the counter and hopped up to sit on it. Casual. Philip hated casual. He would see the move as Quinn not giving him the respect he deserved which was exactly what he wanted him to think.

  Sure enough, Philip turned when he reached the corner of the store and spotted Quinn. His mouth turned down in distaste before he controlled his reaction. Quinn didn’t bother to hide his grin.

  Philip sucked in a deep breath before walking around the store and moving toward the counter. Quinn waited, maintaining eye contact and a smirk. His brother approached and stood in front of him. Not smiling.

  “Father is very disappointed.”

  That widened Quinn’s smile. “Not my problem.”

  Philip’s eyes narrowed further and he ground his teeth hard enough for Quinn to hear. “Of course it’s your problem. He’s your father.”

  Quinn shrugged again and waited.

  As expected, Philip couldn’t stand the silence. “We need you to sign off on those papers. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. Not really.”

  “Then why do you need my signature?”

  Philip rolled his eyes. “Don’t be juvenile. You know as well as I do that money is often put in a child’s name in order to protect it from taxes.”

  Again Quinn waited. No nodding or smiling now. Nothing to encourage Philip. It was interesting to watch his brother’s face change color and watch him try to maintain control. He’d never seen either happen. Would he try to pick a fight? Quinn hoped so.

  “You need to sign the papers.”

  “I don’t want any of the old man’s money or investments. I sure as hell don’t need it and I don’t need anything he invested using my name.”

  Another grind. “It’s not your money.”

  Quinn laughed. “Wait. Not mine? Didn’t you say you needed my signature to get it? I’m no lawyer, in fact, I’m a lowly retailer but I’d say that implies the money is mine. What do you think?”

  Instead of answering, Philip turned and did another tour around the store still avoiding touching as much of the inventory as he could. Made Quinn want to grab him, take him outside and rub his face in the dirt.

  When Philip finished the lap, he stopped in front of the counter, not quite as close this time. At least he had a few brain cells working. “The money was put there as an investment. All you need to do is sign the papers and this entire situation will be over.”

  “And what situation is that?”

  Another grind. “The family is in some financial difficulty. We need to liquidate some assets to alleviate the issue. The easiest way to do that is for you to sign those papers.”

  That made Quinn laugh. “This is the easy way? Coming to Bloo Moose and trying to con me into something that sounds unethical at best? Wow. Don’t want to know what the hard way is. How much money are we talking about?”

  “Irrelevant.”

  “Of course it is.” He let the sarcasm drip from his words. “Well, no matter how much it is, I’m still not interested. Although if you have a copy of the papers you can hand them over and I’ll bring them to a lawyer. Once it’s clear there’s nothing illegal or immoral going on, I’ll consider signing.” It might be worth it just to ensure they’d stay away.

  As expected, Philip clamped his jaw shut and flushed even darker. Quinn kept his voice calm, pleasant. “Problem?”

  Instead of answering, Philip turned and shoved his way through the clothing racks to the front door. When he yanked it open, the ref’s whistle blew, making him flinch and scowl back at his brother. “This isn’t over. I’ll be back.”

  “The answer will be the same but you know where to find me.” Asshole.

  Quinn sat where he was for a long time, letting both his pulse and his temper settle. He could fight when he needed to. Hell, he would have enjoyed punching Philip senseless but he actually wasn’t a violent man.

  But between finding out Darby was truly interested in Rayce and this mess with his family, he wanted to punch the hell out of something.

  Having his name tied to this account didn’t sit right. At best it was underhanded, at worst it was illegal. Even without the papers, it was probably time to talk to a lawyer, find out if he could be screwed over something he’d never agreed to. Maybe it would be better to speak with Dave Belanger. As police chief and friend he’d steer him right.

  Might be time to change his mind and get the hell out of Dodge.

  Instead of heading out to find a lawyer or go to the station, Quinn headed upstairs to see what progress Rayce had made
.

  Was Darby that interested in his friend? After the tongue-dueling they’d enjoyed the other night?

  Unless he was the only one who’d enjoyed it.

  Hell, no. She’d enjoyed it, too. His body hardened thinking about the sounds she’d made and the way her body reacted to his slightest touch.

  He probably shouldn’t have stopped and walked away from her without an explanation. He probably owed her another explanation for what had happened in Pete’s Paint today, too.

  She was making him crazy.

  His family was chock full of assholes.

  No wonder she was flirting with Rayce.

  Betty Crocker Explosions

  Darby stabbed the paintbrush through the gap and dabbed paint on the spindle. Attacking the worst job on the Reno List had seemed like a great idea when she’d arrived home. Now? Not so much.

  The emotional rollercoaster she’d experienced throughout the day seemed to be settling on drained. If she could rewind time, she’d tell Myla to keep her dares and her favors to herself. And she’d have never left the B&B.

  Trying to soften the blows of the day with a Rocky Road ice cream cone had started off as a great idea. The cool treat had soothed her embarrassment, taken her mind off Rayce’s laughter and Quinn’s anger.

  On her way back to the B&B she’d passed CharterGear and spotted Philip. Inside CharterGear with his brother. Chatting. Quinn perched on the counter, smiling. Friendly, brotherly conversation.

  The sight had stopped her in her tracks. Quinn wasn’t throwing him out, wasn’t treating him like a stranger.

  She hadn’t seen Philip’s face nor had he seen hers. But seeing Quinn smile at him had been enough to snap the emotions roiling around. She’d pitched the cone in the nearest garbage bin and barely made it home in time to throw up the Rocky Road in private. That would have given Mrs. Ritchie even more to gossip about. Darby hadn’t paused for her questions or even managed enough energy for a smile or a wave.

  Paint dripped down the spindle and she forced herself to slow down, to wipe off the excess and fix the mistake. At least she could fix this one. If she didn’t, she’d have to do this wretched job again and nothing was worth that.