Quint peeled himself off the wall. “Back to work.” He mopped up the remainder of the water and took all the wet towels out to the back porch to dry until they could be properly washed. He’d lost his helper five towel runs in. She’d lain down on the bed and immediately fallen asleep. As he finished up alone, he’d slowed down considerably and his ribs screamed in pain. Initially, adrenaline kept the pain at bay, but now… He groaned. A little louder than he’d meant to.
Gillian slumped half-asleep in the chair stirred. “Done?” She sat up when he walked past her.
“For now.” Quint rubbed his chin with the back of his hand and tried not to breathe too deeply. “I can’t turn the water back on until I get a couple of parts from the hardware store.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Darling, maybe you forgot in your sleep-fogged brain, but this is Paintbrush. The town doesn’t open until eight a.m. There’s no Wal-Mart to run up to in the middle of the night.” He glanced at his watch. “This early in the morning.”
She swiped at her matted hair. “Right. Forgot.”
“’Kay.” He yawned. “I’ll be back.”
She stretched, pulled her arms up over her head. A peek-a-boo of skin flashed at him before she settled her hands on her lap. “Stay.”
Those darn hormones rioted again. Between the pain in his side and cleaning up Old Faithful in the bathroom, he’d managed to tamp them down. But those four little letters—almost whispered from a sleepy Gillian—pushed them back into overdrive. “I, uh, what?”
“No point in you driving all the way back out to the ranch and then back out here. You won’t get any sleep at all.”
Didn’t have to ask him twice. “Okay.”
She leaned her head back on the chair. Her eyes drifted shut. “I’ll make up the sofa for you.” She didn’t move.
“You asleep?”
“Hmm. Naw.” She didn’t so much as open her eyes.
“I’ll make up the sofa.”
“Sounds good.” She slumped into the chair a little further.
“You can’t stay there.” He nudged her foot.
“Sure.”
Quint chuckled. Pain be damned, he shifted Heidi on the bed and pulled down the cover for Gillian. She hardly weighed anything. Her breath feathered his neck the short walk from the chair to the bed. Every fiber of his being screamed at him at how perfectly she fit up against him. Sure, he’d carried her after the rainstorm but situations being what they were, his head was anywhere but lusty then.
As the morning strolled slowly in, he casually carried her the few feet to his bed. He wanted nothing more to crawl into bed with her—had her daughter not already been there snoring away.
He imagined what a life with Gillian could entail and an odd longing built in his chest. His gaze shifted to her daughter. He’d never thought of kids—he had nothing against them but that was something far off, in the future. A woman with a teenage daughter should scare the bejesus out of him. And it didn’t. Further proof that he needed to find a way to keep this woman in his life.
Wrong place, wrong time, however. But he would make the right time and the right place. He had to.
He settled her next to Heidi then ran back into the bathroom to snag a bottle of Tylenol he’d seen. Quint stood with his hand on the light switch. “Good night, darlin’. See you in the morning.”
“Ahhhhh!”
Gillian jumped from the bed and raced down the hall. “What the…”
“What’s he doing here?” Heidi pointed. She hugged her stuffed teddy bear to her chest.
Gillian edged forward and peered around her daughter. Said offender waggled his fingers at her. She released a pent up breath. “Morning, Quint.”
Heidi’s eyes grew huge. Her mouth gaped like fish until she finally formed words. “You knew he was here?”
“It was late by the time he got done cleaning up the bathroom.”
“So.”
“So, he still has some work to do on it.”
“So.”
“So there is no running water until he finishes.” She held her hand up when her daughter opened her mouth. “He has to get a part to finish. So it was either he went home and got next to no sleep to then turn around and come back here and we could wait forever long for a hot shower, or I let him stay here and he gets to the store as soon as it opens.”
Heidi glared at Quint.
He smiled. “I made breakfast.”
The teen sniffed. “French toast?”
“And bacon.” He nodded. “And some juice. Hungry?”
“I could eat.” She scrubbed at her lopsided ponytail. “Mom can’t cook.”
“Heidi.” Gillian swatted her butt as she hurried to the kitchen.
“Ha, you got the kid calling you out.” He tsked. “Hungry?”
Gillian shook her head. “I’ll just grab a cup of coffee later.”
“Nonsense.” Quint walked over to her and took hold of her elbow. “You can’t start your day without a well balanced breakfast.”
“Did you get that from your mom?”
“No. Dad.” He frowned. “One of the few things I agree with him on.”
Gillian let Quint lead her to the table and pull out the chair for her. What could it hurt to sit and have a meal? “How did you make all this?”
Quint handed her a plate loaded with food. “What do you mean? I pulled stuff from the cupboards and cooked.”
“The cupboards here?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“She’s just in shock they contained actual food,” Heidi said with a mouthful of French toast. She swallowed. “My mom’s idea of cooking involves the freezer and a microwave.”
Gillian bent her head over her plate and kicked her daughter under the table. “You need to just hush yourself now.”
Heidi pointed her fork at her mom and glanced at Quint. “She has set water for spaghetti on fire.” She shoved a forkful of food into her mouth. “Three times.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Gillian took a sip of juice. “Matter of fact, stop talking all together.”
Heidi gave her a huge closed mouth smile.
“Tell me about your dad.” Gillian wanted to change the subject. Her shortcomings were not fodder for landlord/hunky cowboys. “You two don’t get along?”
Quint ate in silence for a long moment. She didn’t think he was going to answer until he finally said, “My parents have been together since they were fourteen. My dad has had his life mapped out from the time he was a teen. He knew where he’d go to college, he was even sure he’d end up in the Major Leagues. When that was done he had his next career planned out. Then he wanted to do the same for my sister and me.”
“And that’s offensive why?” She shouldn’t pry, but that didn’t sound like a parental-deal breaker to her.
“Not so much offensive as it’s annoying.” He took a sip of juice. “To have someone tell you what to do and when to do it.”
Heidi raised her glass. “Thank you.”
“You’re a kid. I’m over thirty. It’s a little bit different.”
Heidi didn’t look too convinced, but she didn’t comment.
Quint shook his head. “I found it easier to leave than to fight.”
Gillian shared a look with her daughter. Not the same kind of fight, but they knew the feeling.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. At first she thought it was from their conversation. “How are your ribs?” Working so hard on the bathroom all night would tweak the already sore muscles.
“I’m fine.” His tone was just enough clipped to say “drop it”.
Gillian wracked her brain for something to say. She eyed Quint for a long moment. He was a handsome man. Strong. Brave. And a little more than opinionated. How had he stayed single for so long in such a tight-knit community?
Maybe he wasn’t single. “I have to say, I am a little surprised there’s not some woman knocking at the door this morning demanding to know why you w
eren’t home last night.”
Quint shrugged. “No one who cares that much.”
“How can that be?” If he were her man she’d care.
Whoa. She didn’t like the directions her thoughts had shifted to. She had no right at any kind of proprietary glommings where any man was concerned.
He seemed awfully interested in the food on his plate all of a sudden. “I don’t know.”
Gillian wasn’t about to deprive her curiosity. “How long have you lived in Paintbrush?”
“Little over five years now.”
“And you’re still on the market?” Gillian swiped at her mouth with her napkin. Though the man had all but sucked chocolate off her mouth the night before she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “You’re not gay, are you?”
Heidi squirted juice out her nose. The teen turned three shades of red and excused herself from the table.
Gillian mopped it up as calmly as you could please. “Gross, hon,” she called after the girl.
Quint still hadn’t answered her.
“No, I don’t think you’re gay. I can’t imagine what it is, though. I’d have bet money these mother hens here in town have been clamoring to get you hooked up with their daughters.”
“I didn’t say that wasn’t the case.” He set his fork down, leaned his elbows on the edge of the table and laced his fingers over his plate. “Just nothing ever came of it.”
“How many single women are there in Paintbrush?”
“Over or under forty?”
Gillian rolled her eyes. “Under.”
“Fourteen,” he answered quickly.
She leaned forward. “That’s amazing.”
He shrugged. “Like you said, when you’re a single guy, you get to learn who all the single ladies are. Pretty dern quick.”
“Over forty?”
“Ten, but Ms. Ida just got herself engaged so technically nine. And any one of the esteemed Paintbrush population have eligible female kinfolk within driving distance.”
“And how many single guys?”
“Not near enough.” He smiled, rose from the table and gathered up all the empty plates.
Gillian was getting nowhere with her line of questioning—though really what she was hoping to garner, she wasn’t actually sure. She had no business grilling him on his relationships. Nor did she have any stake in them. She sighed. “That was great.” She patted her full belly. “As I see no shower in the immediate future, I should probably go ahead and get in to work.”
Quint nodded. “It shouldn’t take me too long once I get the part from the store.”
“Is there anything I can help you with before I go?”
My incredible hard-on?
Probably not the best morning come-on. Sleeping only a few feet away had been much more difficult than he’d anticipated.
“Nope, I’m good.” He shifted behind the counter, straightened himself. He was in a constant state of half-aroused just being in the same room with her.
“Okey-dokey then. I better go get ready.”
Her hips swayed the length of the hallway. He’d swear she did it on purpose to tease him, but in truth, it was the way she walked—always. He’d watched. Far too many times.
Quint could use a splash of cold water on his face. Though it wouldn’t help much. He needed to dunk his entire body in a freezing cold creek to ward off the effects of Gillian Harwood. He glanced at his watch. He had about thirty minutes until the shop opened up.
“Do you need me to stay and help you finish?” she asked a few minutes later.
If you stay I will be finished. “No, I’m good. Headed to the store right now.” He crossed from the kitchen to the front door.
Gillian looped a purse over her shoulder and followed him. They stood in the small foyer. “Heidi is headed over to the Cates’ ranch to go swimming with Ryder and some friends.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “The Cates’ daughter is home from college and they’re having some kind of party.”
Quint nodded. “Lisa. Haven’t seen her in ages.” Marti Cates called almost everyone in town personally to invite them to the party when Lisa agreed to come home. Once the girl turned eighteen, she’d hightailed it out of town so fast the dust was already gone before anyone noticed. “Will you be there?”
“I’m not much up for pool parties.” She lifted her cast.
He chuckled. “They have a huge spread. Lots to do. There’ll be food and half the town.”
Gillian nodded slowly. “I’ll probably need to pick Heidi up.”
“Tell ya what. How about I swing by after work and pick you up at the garage? We can go out there together and you won’t have to drive all by yourself.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“What?”
“I am just trying to figure out your angle.”
“Why do I have to have an angle?”
“Maybe ’cause your mom dropped you on your head as a child and it broke your take-it-easy button?” A smile tipped the corner of her mouth.
“It was never proven.” He blinked his right eye in rapid session like a tic earning laughter from Gillian. “So, what do you say? Is it a date?”
Date? Did he mean it like the way her stomach fluttered when he smiled? “Sure, why not?”
“Really?” He cleared his throat. “I mean great. What time?”
“Five?”
“Sounds good.” Quint stared at her for a long moment. “See ya then.” He turned and was out the door.
“Can I use the car?” Heidi came up behind her mother and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and rested her chin atop her mom’s head.
“I thought Ryder was picking you up.”
“This is the twenty-first century. Girls can drive.”
“That’s not what I…” She sighed. “Yes. The keys are on the counter. I have to go to work. Have a good time. And be careful please.” She patted Heidi’s hands and the teen released her.
Gillian walked the few short blocks to the garage. Just around the corner she saw a couple walking toward her. The elderly couple wore matching jogging suits. A little poodle hurried along at their feet with a color-coordinated bow atop its curly head.
She gave them quick smile.
“Morning, Gillian.”
She tried to hide a startled look. “Good morning.”
How did they know her name? Her step faltered. She’d lived in Mobile for years with her mother, her sister and eventually Heidi. She couldn’t remember walking down the street somewhere and passing someone who called her by name. The past year, she and Heidi hadn’t stayed anywhere long enough to make even casual acquaintances, much less friends.
But in all of ten minutes in Paintbrush, people knew her by name. They rallied around her to help her find a job, find a home. They accepted her.
Just like that.
No questions asked.
“What put that frown on your face?” Manny handed her a cup of coffee when she walked into the office.
She told him about her walk to work.
“I don’t know if it’s a sadder comment on the places you’ve been…” He shook his head. “You going to the Cates’ later?”
“As a matter of fact, Quint offered to drive me.”
“Did he now?” Manny’s eyes widened.
Gillian tucked her purse under the desk. “Why do you say it like that?”
Manny took a huge bite of a cinnamon roll. He took his sweet time chewing. Once he swallowed, and took a sip of his coffee, he said, “Just find it curious. That’s all.”
She sat behind the desk and leaned back. “Sounds more like some old biddy gossiping over the clothes line.”
Manny barked with laughter. “That it does. That it does.”
He turned to go, but Gillian stopped him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Fire away?”
“What kind of guy is Quint? Is he just teasing me? Is he bored and I’m a new target?”
“I’ve known the boy since
he got to town. He’s been, hands down, a hard worker. He’s never caused a lick of trouble that I know of. And from what I hear—” he winked at her, “—he’s one of the most eligible bachelors this side of the Big Horn Mountains.”
“Hmm.” She sipped her coffee. “Are you going to the Cates’?”
“Naw.” Manny squared his ball cap on his head. “I don’t socialize too much since my Loretta passed on.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Naw. It’ll give us something to gossip on tomorrow.”
Chapter Nine
The bell over the door dinged announcing a new customer. Gillian shoved the last of the May files into the large cabinet—only two months to go. It was time consuming work, but Manny needed his files up to date and when she was done, she wouldn’t feel like a charity case job offer. Not that he’d made her feel that way. “Manny had to run out. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’m here for you.”
Gillian glanced up as Quint leaned his shoulder on the doorframe. Her pulse quickened. Hands down the man was hot. The way his hair curled just at the temples. Even the crease lines at the corners of his eyes gave him an air of rustic charm. Add in his southern boy finesse and there was no wonder why he made the women swoon—on the surface, he was a catch. Deep down, he was genuinely a nice guy, which made him the catch of a lifetime.
If the way Ruby glowered at her every time they crossed paths was any indication, that woman was determined to lay claim to him for herself. Add in the other single Paintbrushites and there was a bachelor war ready to erupt. And here he was, for her.
Why was he interested in her?
She gave a quick mental shake. Snap out of it, girl. It was a ride to a party, not a declaration on bended knee.
“Five more minutes. I need to close down the computer.” She’d planned to check e-mail again. She’d waited until Manny was out of the garage just in case something did come through from Rick—she didn’t want to show fear in front of her new friend. But Quint’s early appearance derailed her internet forays.
He tucked one hand in his back pocket. “Can I help you do anything?”
“Nope, I got it covered. Sorry I’m not ready.”
“No worries. I’m early. You do what you need to do.” He leaned up against the doorframe while she ran around and closed down one system after another.
Wrong Turn, Right Cowboy: Paintbrush, Book 2 Page 11