by Cindi Madsen
Quinn’s phone chimed, and she glanced at it. Then she swore.
“Everything okay?”
She flopped back on his bed with a groan. “I have this stupid work party on Friday night and my father’s trying to make it so that I have to go with Grayson, even though I told him we broke up.”
Heath’s jaw clenched at the mention of her ex. “Why would he want that?”
“Because our families work together, which is why I haven’t told him the reason we broke up. And for reasons I can’t even begin to understand, my father thinks it’s improper for me to show up to a work function without a date. Like being single means I’m irresponsible, when really it means that I control my own life.”
Heath tried to keep his voice even. “So are you going to take a date?” He thought they’d just agreed they weren’t dating other people.
“I could use someone in my corner,” she said.
He cautiously nodded. The thought of that jerk being even a fake date made him want to rip off the guy’s arms—he certainly didn’t deserve to touch her. And the thought of another guy that might not be a jerk sent the same throbbing heat through his gut.
Quinn pushed onto her palms, and her brown eyes bored into him. “Would you come with me? I know you’ve got a Dixie Rush show on Saturday, but you can come up Friday, stay the night at my place in Cheyenne—in my guest room, of course—and then we’ll drive down and do one last decorating sprint of madness before the concert so that we’ll be ready for the following weekend.”
The hope shining in her features sent a sharp twinge through his chest. “I thought you wanted to keep us a secret from your family. Pretty sure that’d blow our cover.”
“So? Let’s blow it. I’m done with having to constantly hide who I am from them. I’m a grown woman, and I can decide who I date. And I want to date you.”
“While I’m happy about that fact and all, I’m not so sure springing our relationship on your dad at a company party is the way to go. He made it pretty clear when he came into the station that he thinks I’m a worthless grease monkey. I’d be totally out of my league at a fancy party—I’d probably just make it worse.” He had no doubt it’d be a fancy party, too.
Quinn’s brow crinkled, and he could practically see the wheels in her head turning, running through the most likely disastrous scenarios. Then she covered his hand with hers. “But you’d make it better for me. I’ve got to make small stands so that no matter what happens with Mountain Ridge, I’m in control of my life—it’s time for me to prove that. And dealing with Grayson would be much easier with you by my side. My father can’t constantly try to get us together if I show up with my own date, and that way I don’t have to fake amicability with a guy who not only dumped me because I wouldn’t have sex with him, but told me I wasn’t worth the wait.”
She bit her lip. “I want you there. I need you there. So…what do you say?”
He knew what he should say. That’s why he was surprised by the words that came out of his mouth. “If you need me, I’ll be there.”
Chapter Eighteen
Forrest Scott lifted each of the parts Heath had asked for, turning over the boxes several times to inspect them before eventually scanning them and pressing a couple of buttons on the plastic-coated keyboard on the counter in front of him. The guy seemed to know whenever Heath was in a hurry and go twice as slow, but since it was the only parts store in town, finding a faster place wasn’t an option.
The antsy feeling he’d been struggling with all week only intensified his absolute lack of patience. Usually it preceded a change of address or new job or both. Between the motorcycle job he was in the middle of, Dixie Rush, the Mountain Ridge decision still up in the air, and Cam’s return creeping closer—not to mention sticking around for Ollie’s sake—leaving wasn’t an option, though, so the restless sensation needed to go away.
It’ll be better once I’ve got the lodge and don’t have to live with Dad anymore while trying to focus on so many jobs at once. I’m sure that’s why I’m feeling so on edge. It didn’t help that this morning Dad had told him he’d overheard several people in town talking about Mountain Ridge, and that he’d put his money on Quinn getting her B and B. He claimed the town was biased against them as it was, and they’d go for money, well-educated, and highly reputable over handing the place to a guitar-playing mechanic who’d dropped out of college. Then he’d added that Heath might as well start thinking about eventually taking over the auto shop—that it was a more realistic goal.
Finally Forrest gave him the grand total. “I hear you’re dating Quinn Sakata,” he said as he swiped Heath’s debit card.
Heath gave a noncommittal head wobble, his defenses kicking up. In order to be on time for her party all the way in Cheyenne, he needed to get these parts installed in the old Toyota he was working on and hit the road. Well, before he did that, he’d also need to shower and put on a suit. He hadn’t worn a suit since his grandma’s funeral, and even then it’d been a too-big jacket and one of Dad’s ties.
The looming party where he’d be completely out of his element wasn’t helping with the itch to flee, to say the least.
“That girl is wild,” Forrest said. “Used to be with a different guy every week back in high school.”
The spot between Heath’s shoulder blades tightened. He wanted to tell him to stop talking about her like that, but curiosity crept in, too. Just how wild? Not that he cared—while he didn’t want to think about her with different guys, her past was the past, and his was far from unblemished. He understood if she’d settled down and wanted to go slower now, because he’d been choosier about whom he’d slept with over the years, too. But she’d said she was waiting until marriage and made it sound like she’d never had sex. Or had he just assumed?
Maybe she used to have sex in high school, but had a change of heart somewhere along the way and decided to wait until she was married to sleep with anyone else.
Or maybe he was being played. When it came down to it, how well did he know Quinn? He’d seen the way she could throw up a mask. What if this was part of her master plan? Trick him into falling for her so he’d pull his bid on Mountain Ridge and she could have her bed and breakfast.
Even as he thought it, his brain screamed no. That he could tell the difference between her mask and when she was genuine. That he knew her better than that.
But the doubt in the back of his mind blazed a path for every doubt he’d ever had, about her and about himself, and now Dad’s words about Quinn being the sure bet pushed forward. After all he’d done to try to show the town he’d changed—after jumping through every single hoop—he couldn’t help but feel bitter.
“Yeah, have some fun with that one,” Forrest said with a stupid grin on his face as he extended the plastic bag with the auto parts.
Heath snatched it from his hand and pushed out of the parts store, his mind spinning. Was playing the damsel in distress another way to sink her hooks into him?
Maybe he should just fail to show up to her party and piss her off enough to end things before even more of his heart was on the line. After all, why wear a suit and face down a room of people who’d hate him on sight for a girl when the relationship was going to end in a week or two anyway?
…
Quinn paced the lobby of the building where the company party was being held. She’d told Chichi she had a date, but she hadn’t bothered telling him who. In fact, she’d avoided talking about anything but the Utah property all week, claiming to be buried in paperwork.
Which was at least true.
As she made another pass, her five-inch stilettos echoing against the marbled tile floor, she wondered if Heath had changed his mind. The hour-long silence after she’d texted to tell him that he’d have to wear a suit and tie seemed like a bad omen.
Looks like I might have to go in there and face the music by myself. The Rutherfords were already here—she’d seen them entering the building as she’d pulled into the parking
lot. Grayson had texted a few hours earlier, saying he hoped to see her and that he’d like to apologize in person.
Fat chance. Of course, it’d be much easier to hear his weak apology with Heath by her side to help run interference.
She glanced at the time. Much longer and her father would hunt her down. She considered calling Heath, but she figured he’d get there when he’d get there, so she should just bite the bullet and force herself to go mingle until then. Putting on her fake, I’m-so-happy-to-be-here front, she took two long strides toward the large room where the party was being held.
The unmistakable growl of an engine filtered through the glass doors, and she stopped in her tracks. Not many people invited to this shindig drove vehicles that made that kind of noise.
Sure enough, Heath’s truck came into view, and the fake smile she’d had to work to hold up turned genuine and effortless. Suddenly standing in the lobby waiting for him felt too needy, though. Then again, she didn’t want him to have to wander into the room alone—she could only imagine how unfriendly everyone would be.
How unfriendly Chichi would be.
Oh, hell, this is the worst idea I’ve ever had. She’d wanted to feel stronger—independent—but now she felt like the impulsive teenager she’d been in high school, constantly disappointing her parents and forever on the verge of trouble.
But then Heath stepped into the foyer and her breath left her in a rush. The suit and tie covered his tattoos, but his piercings and scruff were still in place, and the enticing combination sent desire tumbling through her.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I got caught up at work and—”
She threw her arms around him and crashed her lips over his. His large hands encircled her waist and then drifted down as he deepened the kiss. “If you just marked my butt again,” she mumbled against his lips, giving her head a tiny shake. “You know what? I don’t even care.”
The grin he gave her made her stomach take a trip to her throat. “That dress is…damn.”
She smoothed a hand down the purple fabric, making sure everything was still in place. It was on the snug side, but she loved the way it accentuated what little curves she had instead of overwhelming them like most dresses she tried on tended to do. “Thanks,” she said, then reached up and grabbed Heath’s black tie. She tugged him down to lip level so she could kiss that addictive sexy mouth again. “You look pretty damn yourself.”
Before she got carried away and dragged him into the nearest office so they could make up for all the kisses they’d missed in the days they’d been apart, she forced herself to step out of his embrace. She took his hand and let out a long exhale. “Sorry in advance for what I’m about to drag you into, but I’m so glad you came.”
“No matter what happens, I got you,” he said, tightening his grip on her hand. His strength transferred to her, calming her nerves and giving her the feeling she’d wanted when she’d originally come up with this idea.
The buzz of conversations and the faint classical music playing in the background increased as they approached the large room filled with people she worked with in varying capacities. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
They kept to the outskirts, managing to avoid Chichi and Grayson. She introduced Heath to a few of her clients, and he easily charmed them. When she introduced him to Mr. Churchill, who leased half of their ritziest building for his company, they started talking motorcycles. Apparently he owned several, and when he heard Heath built them, his entire face lit up. Pretty soon, he’d pulled several of his colleagues into the conversation.
Quinn was laughing at one of his cross-country motorcycle trip stories when she caught sight of Chichi, his disapproving glare in full force. He nodded at Mr. Churchill as he broke into the circle, then put his hand on Quinn’s back and guided her away from the crowd. Heath stood back a few feet, clearly not sure whether or not to follow.
“You’re making a spectacle of yourself, laughing like that,” Chichi said.
“People love to laugh,” she said, keeping her voice much quieter than he’d kept his. “They’ll remember me now when I call their office.”
“Yes, but they’ll think of you as the silly, inconsequential girl. Not someone they should listen to.”
Her smile turned to glass and shattered but she kept the mirage of it there on her lips. Her mind spun for effective words to defend herself without sounding disrespectful, but then a stern-looking man with gray hair approached and Chichi turned his attention on him, giving Quinn the chance to escape.
Heath’s gaze met hers, and she kept the corners of her mouth propped up, refusing to let her mortification show. “My father,” she said. “Breaking out the Victorian insults since 1992.”
Heath put his hands on her shoulders. “Quinn—”
“I’m a real estate shark. I close deals. I…I don’t need pity.” To her dismay, her voice cracked. So not sharklike.
Heath stepped closer and gently tipped up her chin. “Good. Because I’m not pitying someone who drives a Mercedes, wears designer shoes, and wants to turn my hunting lodge into a frilly B and B.” There was a teasing yet challenging edge to his words.
“Good,” she said, her voice now convincingly firm again.
“Great,” he mimicked in the same tone.
A laugh broke through, and then she quickly clamped her lips. He leaned down, and his warm breath hit her ear, sending a chain reaction of delicious shivers and stuttered heartbeats. “By the way, I love your laugh.”
She closed her eyes and let the compliment sink down deep where her father couldn’t touch it—she’d no doubt need to hold on to it and remind herself of it in the future.
“Shall we go drink some froufrou champagne?” he asked.
At her nod, Heath took her hand and placed it at his hooked elbow, even offering a tiny head bow that made her giggle. And even though it meant he’d witnessed the kind of humiliating exchange she and her father often had, she wouldn’t trade his being there for the world.
Chapter Nineteen
Heath handed a fluted glass to Quinn. He’d worried he’d gone too far with adding the mock B and B insult, but it’d had the desired effect. For all her talk about being a shark, her dad’s words had clearly cut her.
It’d taken all his willpower not to interrupt the two of them. He knew her dad was big on respect, and he didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him—well, that ship had probably sailed long ago—but he didn’t want to make it worse or to draw more attention to the chiding. Plus there were Quinn’s conflicted feelings on disappointing and honoring her family to consider.
But how didn’t Mr. Sakata see the way Quinn lit up the room, or that people were drawn to that? They’d do business with her because she was fun to be around, on top of being smart. Not to mention sexy as hell.
Now he hated himself for doubting her earlier, all because someone had called her wild. No one could fake the hurt on her face after her dad had scolded her. Not to mention he loved her so-called wild side—she was adventurous and free, something she clearly wasn’t allowed to be at her job.
No wonder she feels suffocated working for her father. It’s like he’s trying to slowly stamp out who she is.
At this point, even if she were conning him, he’d happily be her mark. He tightened his grip on her hand, wondering how he could fix everything. How he could hold onto her, no matter what the town committee decided.
“Incoming,” she muttered, and Heath braced himself.
Ah, it’s just the ex. No problem. Grayson stopped in front of them, and Heath wrapped his arm around Quinn’s waist.
“Hello, Quinn,” Grayson said. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Have you met Heath?”
“Her boyfriend,” he said, extending a hand and fighting the urge to crush the guy’s bones in his grip. He loved that she hadn’t offered a fake, “Nice to see you, too,” and got straight to introducing him.
“Yeah, sorry I haven’t called y
ou back, but I’ve been so busy.” She nestled closer and put her hand on his chest, fitting against him perfectly. When he glanced down at her, she wasn’t looking at her ex to see his reaction—no, she was looking at him like he was the only person who existed at all. It was the first time he’d felt like a total rock star without his guitar in his hands.
His heart expanded and filled up with her, and for such a tiny thing, she somehow filled every inch of space. Somewhere along the way, he’d completely fallen for the girl.
The yuppie left in a huff, and a mix of satisfaction and happiness danced through him, leaving him pleasantly light-headed. Before he could fully enjoy the buzz, her father approached. This time Mr. Sakata clearly noticed she was with him, and the man couldn’t look less thrilled about it.
Heath swore he heard Quinn mutter, “No more strings,” under her breath before raising her voice and squaring off in front of her dad. “Chichi, this is Heath. Heath, this is my father, Kenji Sakata.”
“Nice to meet you,” Heath said, extending his hand.
A muscle ticked in Mr. Sakata’s jaw as he reluctantly shook it. “The mechanic, right?”
“He’s a very talented mechanic who also builds these amazing custom motorcycles,” Quinn said.
Did the girl seriously not know that mentioning motorcycles was the least endearing thing ever when it came to fathers?
Mr. Sakata turned to Quinn, his mouth pressed into a tight line. “Maya mentioned you’d been in Hope Springs a lot, but I didn’t realize why. Now I see.”
“I’ve been helping the town prepare for the Frontier Days parade, too. Heath and I built and decorated a float and have been working closely with the town committee.”
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Come by the house at ten.”
“It’ll have to wait. I’ll be in Hope Springs until Monday.”
Frustration rose to the surface on father and daughter alike, barely contained, and Heath tightened his arm around Quinn, a dozen swearwords running through his head. Somehow he’d involved himself in a power struggle that spelled imminent disaster on all sides.