by Cindi Madsen
Her shoulders slumped, and her head fell back against Sadie’s arm. “Why do you have to know me so well? It makes it impossible to deny everything you say.”
“Hey, you were there pushing me when I wanted Royce back. I’m just returning the favor.”
Quinn took the bottle of wine from Sadie and plunged the corkscrew into the top. “Then I’m warning you right now to keep your cell phone on tonight, because if telling him goes badly, you’re going to need to come and pick up the pieces.”
…
As soon as he and Quinn were in the truck again, quiet descended. Quinn had never been quiet before, and he wasn’t sure how to take it, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He wondered what she and Sadie had talked about—he knew his bandmate liked him, but he also had no doubt she’d choose Quinn over him if it came down to it.
Judging by the silence, it was a choice she’d have to make soon.
“Still mad?” he asked.
“I was never mad.”
He shot her a look.
“Frustrated, yes. Mad at the situation, even. But not mad at you,” Quinn said. “I overreacted when Royce mentioned the horses because my dream bubble was popping before my eyes and I totally panicked. I’m sorry that it turned into a big fight. I never meant for that to happen.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He let out a long exhale, trying to dispel the frustration he’d also felt. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before we couldn’t hold it in anymore. Most of the time I manage to forget that you’re my competition.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “You make me forget.”
“Right back at you. I tried to pretend it didn’t matter that much, but I suppose that’s ridiculously hopeful.”
“Maybe. It’s been a long time since I wanted to be hopeful, though.”
She glanced at him, a hint of sorrow in her eyes, and the smile she gave him was the one she worked to put on. A stab of despair lodged in his chest. Hope was foolish—how many times had he learned that?
Still, as he made the last turn to her house, he wanted to hold on to it. Which was why the second he threw the truck in park, he gathered her to him and captured her lips with his. She looped her arms behind his neck, kissing him back like she thought it might be their last. Apparently they were thinking the same thing. So he took his time running his tongue over hers, memorizing the taste, the feel, the way she sighed and sank deeper into his embrace.
The windows fogged around them, providing another layer to cut them off from the outside world and the reality it held, and then Quinn broke the kiss. “Heath…” The fortifying breath she took made an icy lump form in his gut. She was about to tell him she couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t want to examine too closely the urge to beg her not to do it. “I’d like to run into my house and have that kiss be the last thing between us this weekend, so I can pretend that everything’s all good, but I’m afraid that’d only set us up for a worse crash in the end.”
She swallowed. “I’ve had so much fun with you, and we still need to work together, so I’m hoping that this won’t screw everything up too badly.”
His nerves stretched thin, ready to snap.
“Sadie told me I should stop being such a wimp and just talk to you before it got out of control. Which I knew she was going to do, which was why I asked her to let us come over. I didn’t expect the fight over Mountain Ridge, but that’s neither here nor there, so…”
Heath gripped the back of the bench seat, digging his fingers into the fabric. “Quinn, are you trying to drive me crazy? Just spit it out.”
She glanced down, her dark hair falling and obscuring half her face. “Do you remember the night at the reception? The fight I had with my ex?”
His teeth ground at the mention of the guy. Maybe she was going back to him. Convincing himself he didn’t care would’ve been easier if the pit in his gut hadn’t opened up. “I remember.”
“The reason he dumped me was because after six months, I still hadn’t had sex with him. The truth is…” She finally looked up and swiped her hair behind her ear with a shaky hand. “I’m not planning on having sex until I’m married.” It burst out of her the way one would admit to being a murderer. “I’m sure you were thinking light and fun meant lots of no-strings-attached sex, but all I can offer is hanging out and kissing and that’s it.”
He blinked, unsure how to take that. Waiting. No sex. Yes, it changed his plans some—he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about sex with Quinn.
“So there you have it. When I said I wasn’t having sex with you, I meant long-term. I usually wait until I’m in a more committed relationship with a guy to tell him, but so far that hasn’t gone so great, and I figured I might as well be up front instead of being terrified of being alone with you.”
“Terrified?” He tried not to be offended at that.
“Not like scared of you. But I sometimes jump right in without thinking things through, and with you…well, it’s easy to get caught up in kissing, and…” Her gaze moved to his lips, and she released a shallow breath. The temperature in the truck climbed, and now all he could think of was getting caught up in kissing. “Some guys get crazy angry when I tell them to stop. I like you, so instead of springing it on you mid-make-out session, when we’re both struggling to maintain control, I decided it was better to tell you now. Hopefully that way there won’t be angry words exchanged that’ll make it impossible to work together. And this way you can tell me it’s over, kick me out of your truck, and then make your escape if you want.”
Escape? She actually thought he’d bolt?
Then again, was he truly up for this? Another complication?
“I’ll leave you to let that sink in, and then you can call me this week and let me know if you still want to keep dating or whatever, or if you think we should try to just be friends. Because I’m sure that’s totally possible after kissing. People do it, right?” She slid across the seat and pulled on the door handle. He lunged over her and held the door in place.
She slowly turned her head toward him, vulnerability filling every inch of her face. Such a contrast to her usual feisty, carefree nature.
“I’ll admit I don’t have much experience with waiting in that area,” he said. “But I’m willing to try. For you.”
“You are?” she asked, and her voice cracked.
He placed a hand on the side of her face and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, his affection for her firing through every cell in his body. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Quinn. Honestly, I completely lose my mind around you—which is probably dangerous, but I’m not sure our relationship is something I can walk away from, even with as much as we have stacked against us.”
“Right? I keep thinking, why’d it have to be you bidding against me, but then we probably wouldn’t have gotten to know each other this well, and that thought makes me sad.” She fisted her hands in his shirt, one on either side of his waist. “You’re really willing to try a relationship that doesn’t involve sex? Even after I signed you up for a beard-shaving contest?”
“Most likely because you signed me up, which means I’ve got serious mental problems.”
She laughed and then smashed her lips to his. Then she climbed onto his lap and deepened the kiss. This whole thing was so impossible, yet the thought of giving it up made it hard to breathe. How’d he let her in so quickly when his first instinct was to keep people out?
And how was he going to not explode from sexual frustration when the woman could do such wicked things with her tongue?
Chapter Seventeen
Quinn frowned at the run-down building. It needed more repairs than Mountain Ridge B and B, which was saying something. The last owners of the commercial two-story structure in front of her had completely let the offices inside go.
“It’s in worse shape than you led me to believe,” Quinn said, and the real estate agent showing it gulped—rookie mistake. It shouldn’t make her proud to unnerve the guy, but
it did, and that was something she wasn’t proud of. Although it did make it easier to bargain, and a good price led to praise from Chichi, which didn’t come easily.
“The inspection passed,” the agent said as he led her inside.
“That doesn’t mean people are going to rent spaces. It just means the homeless have a less scary place to squat right now.” Quinn ran her fingers over a dusty surface and frowned at the exposed wiring hanging from the warped ceiling panels—another tactic to show she wasn’t messing around.
“They might be willing to take a little off for remodeling.”
“Try a lot. In fact, I’m going to give you a figure, and if the owners are smart, they’re going to dive on it, because they won’t get more, and I can only imagine what they’re sinking into the place every month between taxes and the mortgage.”
Already Quinn was calculating how little she could persuade their regular contractor to do the job for, and how long it’d take until the offices would be in nice enough shape to lease. At the end of the tour, she made an offer that gave her plenty of wiggle room for the back-and-forth negotiations that’d inevitably take place.
By the next afternoon, though, the owners had agreed to sell it to Sakata Real Estate for a lowball price she could hardly believe, and her contractor was already scheduling the renovations.
A deal like that used to give her a rush, but now all she could think about was how much more satisfying it’d be when she could fix up her own property, and how it’d be homey instead of cold convenience. Of course that led to thinking about Heath, as most things did these days. She could still hardly believe he was willing to try a relationship without sex.
Her heart skipped a couple beats when she remembered his words. I’m not sure it’s something I can walk away from, even with as much as we have stacked against us.
While she wanted to believe they’d figure everything out, plenty of guys claimed they could wait, only to change their minds a few months in. Anyone even willing to try was hard to find, though, and Heath had surprised her at every turn. She couldn’t help hoping that maybe that meant this time it would actually be different.
Her phone chimed—Heath’s ears must’ve been burning.
I get to see you tonight, right?
Giddiness bounced through her as she read the message again. She typed that she’d be there as soon as possible and then got into her car. She called the office to update them as she maneuvered onto I-80, wishing she could fast-forward to the moment she pulled up to Heath’s house.
…
The worry over having Quinn at Dad’s place was still there, but Heath’s need to see her overshadowed it. He let her in and stepped aside so she could take in the tiny, messy living room, where Dad sat in his usual spot drinking a beer.
“Hello, Mr. Brantley,” Quinn said, shooting him a smile.
“Why if it isn’t the feisty girl who flung oil all over my shop. You want a beer, sweetheart?”
“Sure. Unless you’ve got moonshine in the tub,” she said, winking at Heath. He gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting it go.
“I’ll grab one for you.” Heath hesitated at the edge of the room—he’d be back in all of thirty seconds. How much could Dad say in that amount of time?
Probably too much. Keeping his ears perked up, he grabbed two beers, took care of the lids, and then strode back into the living room. Quinn was on the couch, and Dad had a hunting magazine open and in front of her as he told her she’d never felt power until she’d shot a rifle. Then he added that he’d take her shooting one day so she could experience it for herself.
Over my dead body.
Quinn simply smiled. “I think I’m going to have to give Heath that privilege. But we’d be happy to have you tag along when we go.” She looked up at him. “Right, babe?”
He loved how easily she handled Dad. Even more that it meant her adding a “babe” on the end of that question. “If that’s what you want, darlin’.”
Dad tilted the neck of his beer bottle toward her. “She’s a real spitfire—better hold on tight.”
“I plan to,” Heath said, handing her one of the beers. Then he gestured for her to follow him. She told Dad that she’d see him later and then followed Heath back to his room. With every step, he worried this was yet another bad idea, but she’d said her sister was still staying at her place, and he didn’t want to deal with other people. If Mountain Ridge fell through, he was going to buy himself a house as soon as possible.
It really can’t fall through, though. Cam needs it. The last email made it clear how excited he was to not have to deal with such a structured life anymore. The multiple tours overseas had burned him out, especially with the close calls he and his guys had had over the past few years. He’d said he couldn’t wait for the day orders weren’t barked at him—which definitely wouldn’t be an option if he had to work at Dad’s shop. They’d always clashed, and Heath was actually scared what would happen if they tried to work in the same place now. It’d be an explosive fight waiting to happen.
Cam had also written that it’d be the first time he’d be completely in charge of his own life, and that’d hit Heath hard. While he had often felt unsettled over the years, he’d always chosen where to go next and what to focus on. He wanted his brother to have that—if anyone deserved it, it was Cam.
Heath glanced at Quinn, wishing for the hundredth time that getting the lodge didn’t mean she wouldn’t get her B and B.
Not wanting to have a repeat performance of the night with Royce and Sadie, he shoved away thoughts of their rivalry so he could focus on the here and now.
Right as he was about to ease the door to his room closed, Trigger came scampering down the hall. He knew he’d be a bouncy yippy ball of energy, but he didn’t have the heart to slam the door in his face.
Quinn bent down and picked up the fur ball, making an aww noise as she straightened. “You’re seriously the cutest little thing ever.” Trigger licked her face and she laughed.
“Oh, sure, you give him the first kiss.” Heath wrapped an arm around Quinn’s waist, careful not to smash Trigger between them, and pressed his lips to hers. For the first time since she’d left a couple of days ago, his frayed nerves calmed. “I missed you,” he said, then mentally smacked his forehead. He really needed to stop saying crap like that.
“I missed you, too,” she said, making it all okay.
“Sorry about my dad. Again.”
“He’s not so bad. In fact, I think he’s the first parent of a boyfriend who’s ever liked me, so there’s that.” Her eyes widened with a hint of panic. “Not that you and I are…you know what I mean.”
“I do. And we are—I thought that was pretty clear after our last discussion. I’m not dating anyone else, and I sure as hell don’t want you to.”
Trigger wiggled, and Quinn set him down on the bed, where he bounced up to the top and bit at the edge of the pillowcase, attacking it like it was going to be his next meal. Heath knew the little bugger would be a distraction.
Quinn watched him for a couple seconds and then returned her gaze to him. “Good. I’m glad that’s settled, then.” She sat on the foot of the bed, and he dropped next to her. She rolled the bottleneck between her fingers. “Tell me more about your family. Now that I’ve met your dad, I can jump to a few conclusions, but I’d rather you tell me.”
He sighed. “The only steady thing in my life was that it’s never been steady. Even when my dad and mom were married, one of them was always storming out. They got married young—because she’d gotten pregnant with Cam, and then they had me about a year and a half after he was born, because apparently they didn’t learn from the first accident.”
Quinn flinched, probably because he’d referred to himself as an accident. He’d been reminded about it a lot every time he did something wrong, but he was over it.
He took her hand. “It’s okay. I got a thick skin a long time ago. But there were good times when Mom would come home and make c
ake for dinner. When Dad took us fishing and hunting. But then he got hurt, started drinking to deal, he and my mom fought even more, and then she left.”
“That sucks. My parents sometimes smother me, but I never really thought about what I’d do if they hadn’t been there.”
“Again, it was a long time ago.”
“You don’t have to play Mr. Tough Guy.”
“Who’s playing?” he said with a grin.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Okay, so your home life sucked a bit and you left as soon as you could—makes sense. Where’d you go?”
Rehashing the many bumps along the way to find a different life didn’t appeal to him, but he supposed he might as well get it out of the way. “Everywhere. Tried college, but it wasn’t for me. After that I moved from job to job as the mood struck me. Mechanic work, construction. Whatever I could find. Then I’d start to feel tied down, so I’d move again.”
He reached over and tugged Trigger away from his pillow so it wouldn’t end up in shreds. “Actually, I was worried about committing to Dixie Rush at first. Even this little guy seemed like a big commitment.” He patted Trigger’s head. “But I’ve found when I find something that truly fits—like the custom bikes and the band—it doesn’t feel so claustrophobic. The lodge would be the same way, especially since I’d get to run it with Cam. He’s the closest thing to a constant I have. He made sure I ate and went to school, and he keeps in touch through emails and the occasional call. I’d do anything for him.”
Quinn nodded, and he wanted to peer inside her brain and see what she was thinking. “Including living with your dad to save money so that you could get the Mountain Ridge property for you and your brother—brothers, really, because I know you also worry about Ollie.”
Now it was Heath’s turn to nod. “He needs me here to do what Cam always did for me. I want my dad to step up, but it’s unlikely, so I don’t mind taking some time to help with baseball and make sure he gets enough food and attention—I enjoy looking after him more than I expected, actually.”