Wrong Turn, Right Cowboy: Paintbrush, Book 2

by Denise Belinda McDonald

  Quint’s laughter rumbled through him. The vibrations tinkered through her. More than anything, she wanted to recapture what they had before the fire. Something in Quint had changed though when he’d learned he was her first. And then when Mrs. Edwards started matchmaking… The jealousy she had no right to feel scared and angered her.

  As he rubbed her feet, the rhythm could lull her into the sleep that had escaped her the night before. As much as she’d like to sleep, she didn’t want to waste a minute with Quint. She pulled her feet away.

  “What did you do after your sister died? For work I mean.”

  “Secretarial work.” She sat up and let her feet fall to the floor then leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “My mom was still alive. She couldn’t work, because she was too sick, but she watched Heidi. I worked during the day and went to night school to get my masseuse license. It was hard after my mother died. But we got through.”

  Quint settled his hand on her back. The warmth from his hands seeped through her thin shirt. “You are remarkable.”

  “No. I just did what I had to do.”

  “Which is what makes you so remarkable.” He leaned forward and mimicked her position. “I admire you.”

  “Great. I’ve always wanted to be admired.” Gillian stood and tugged at the hem of her shirt. “Don’t you have a dinner date to get ready for?”

  Quint frowned as he stood, too. “What?”

  “Mrs. Edwards’s niece or granddaughter or cousin. Friend of a friend. I can’t remember.” And I can’t believe I just blurted that out.

  He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. When she didn’t meet his gaze, he tucked his hand under her chin and raised it up. She had no choice but to look at him. “I want you to know, I didn’t make a date with her granddaughter. I haven’t made a date with anyone in a long time. I do have hopes for my next few dates, but that all depends on whether you say yes.”

  Her heart beat a rapid tattoo. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips. And then another. All damn day long all he could think about was Gillian. And how long it would be before he could touch her again, feel her up against him. So much so it’d hurt. He’d considered going into town for lunch just to get a quick glimpse of her, but then he’d have been behind and he wouldn’t have been able to get to the house just as she got off work.

  He peppered her with light, quick kisses. He was determined to take things a little slower. And not get so carried away as they had the night before.

  But Gillian had different ideas and leaned up on her tip toes. She snaked her hand around the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. A little groan echoed in the back of her throat as a shiver raced through her, both of which ignited every fiber of his being.

  Quint slid his hands up and down her back, slowly at first then his hands wound their way up under the hem of her shirt. He had to feel her again.

  But it still wasn’t enough. He slid his hands down and cupped her ass and lifted her until she could wrap her legs around him. Her warmth cradled his rock-hard dick.

  “Where’s—” he breathed in deeply, “—where’s your daughter?”

  “Out. Won’t be back for hours.” Gillian nipped at his earlobe and then his neck. “We’re all alone.”

  He carried her back to his, her—God, it was getting so jumbled up in his mind, it was hard to think straight anymore—back to the bedroom. He leaned her against the footboard to give her support as he ground his hips into her. He fumbled with her shirt—awkwardly tugged and pulled until together they finally rid her of it. He lowered his mouth and laved at her taut peak through the pink lace. He worked the clasp of the bra loose until it gave and fell away affording him all her sweet skin. He tugged gently at the rosy peak.

  Gillian buried her fingers in his hair. “Holy Christ, Quint.” She yanked his head back and kissed him hard, her tongue thrashing with his.

  “Hang on, hang on.” He stood up straighter, cradled her to him, and walked around to the side of the bed. Before she could so much as breathe he tossed her onto the bed and ripped off his own shirt. Then he shucked his boots, jeans and boxers, standing before her naked as could be.

  They both reached for her pants at the same time, their hands colliding.

  “Let me.” He pushed her hand aside and unfastened the button. His fingers eased under the cotton as he lowered the zipper. Her smooth belly teased him, taunted him with what was to come. “Lift up.” He pulled at her pants to slide them off. She shifted this way and that until she was as naked as he.

  His hands shook as he positioned her with her legs hanging off the bed.

  Quint couldn’t remember the last time nerves got the best of him when he was making love to a woman. Had he know the night before she was a virgin, he’d have been a hell of a lot gentler if not a little hesitant—and nervous as hell. He was damn glad he hadn’t known before. But now that he did, he wanted to be sure to give Gillian something to remember forever.

  He knelt in front of her.

  Gillian leaned up on her elbows and looked down at him. “What are you—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  She held his gaze for a long moment then bit her lower lip and nodded.

  Quint skimmed his hands up her thighs and back. When she laid back on the bed, he wedged her legs open. He kissed his way up one leg, stopped just at her hip and worked his way down the other. Gillian’s fingers dug into the comforter.

  A slight smile spread across his mouth. God, she did things to him, stirred places low in his gut he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Never thought he ever wanted to feel.

  She stiffened slightly when he draped her legs over his shoulders, but she didn’t stop him or push him away. Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed making him smile wider. Her gasp echoed through the room when he dipped the tip of his tongue into her sweet folds. He laved her clit, enjoyed the warmth that surrounded every last suckle.

  It didn’t take long before her hips lifted from the bed and met him stroke for stroke. He slid one finger inside her and about lost it when she contracted around him. But it wasn’t about him, it was about Gillian and loving her like he should have the night before. If he couldn’t find the words to tell her yet, he was damn sure going to show her how he felt about her. How he was making her his and only his. In a way no other man ever had. And if he could figure out how, never would.

  “I don’t think… I can’t…you have to stop.” Gillian’s hands were clamped tight on her thighs.

  Quint stopped long enough to answer her. “Yes, you can. Come for me, Gillian.” He eased another finger inside her and stroked his tongue across her swollen clit. Faster and faster, he guided her higher and higher. She writhed beneath his ministrations.

  He was getting a cramp in his knee, but he couldn’t stop. Not with Gillian so close.

  She moaned, almost growled, and came around his fingers with a hearty shudder.

  Carefully, he slid out from under her legs and snapped up his pants to grab a condom. He rolled it on. The damn thing broke, split right up the side. He cursed under his breath. He only had one in his pocket. He hadn’t exactly thought he’d need it, but he’d hoped.

  He could stop, despite what teenage boys had said for years, he wouldn’t die if he didn’t follow through to completion—it hurt like hell, but didn’t kill a guy.

  “Hurry, Quint.” Gillian rubbed her foot along the back of his thigh.

  He could delve in for just a moment, pull out before he came. He was back between her thighs before she’d even opened her eyes. Hands on either side of her on the bed, he leaned forward and kissed her softly as he slid between her wet folds, embedded himself down deep inside her. The moisture and the warmth made it damn hard not to come right then and there.

  Gillian stalked her fingers up Quint’s chest as he rocked against her—in and out, he focused on little else. Held himself at enough mental distance to keep up his composure. He
wanted to make her come again, feel the rush of her orgasm as it surrounded him.

  The peaks of her taut nipples brushed against his chest with every beat of his drumming into her. He tempered his breathing, but she was meeting him thrust for thrust and rocking his concentration. The little mewing in the back of her throat was growing more distracting.

  She slid her fingers up into his hair and pulled his head down next to hers. A shiver wracked through her and she came around his cock. “So good.” Her breathy, lustful voice drew his balls up tight. She bit down on his earlobe then traced her tongue over the contour.

  He couldn’t hold off any longer and spilled himself into her.

  “Oh, Jesus.” He panted and tried to catch his breath. What the hell had he just done?

  “God, Quint. I’ve never…” She hugged him tight to her chest, the cast scratched across his back. “Thank you.”

  He all but groaned. Yeah, you’re thanking me now…“I’m sorry.”

  She released him and let him put some space between them. “For?”

  “The condom broke. I should have stopped, but damn it you make me crazy. I lost control.”

  She blinked rapid fire at him and swallowed hard. “Broke?”

  “Yeah.” He slid from her.

  “How could that happen?”

  Quint scrubbed his hands down his face. “I…”

  Gillian climbed down from the bed and ran to the bathroom. Quint heard the shower turn on. His heart hammered against his chest as much from the heartiest orgasm he’d ever had and the fact that he’d had unprotected sex for the first time since he was seventeen and thought he knew everything.

  He hadn’t moved so much as an inch by the time Gillian emerged from the bathroom draped in a towel. She had some sort of plastic bag wrapped around the pink cast and wouldn’t—or couldn’t—hold his gaze.

  His stomach rolled as he said, “What’s done is done. You can’t wash it away.”

  She toyed with the edge of the towel and shrugged.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine. But if not—”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said as she nodded. “But if not, we’ll be miles away from here when it matters. You don’t have to worry one way or the other.”

  “What? Why?” He shot up out of the bed. His heart hammered triple time. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Gillian frowned. “Not that I owe you any explanations for what I do, one way or the other, but you didn’t think we’d stay here permanently.”

  “Actually, I thought the town had grown on you. Hell, I thought I’d grown on you.”

  She picked at the plastic bag covering her cast and sighed. “Paintbrush is great, I guess, but once my cast comes off, I can go back to work. There’s not a big market here for a masseuse. We’ll move on when we’re ready.”

  “You act like it’s no big deal to just pick up and go time after time, but it sounds to me like you’re running. Is it because of me? Or Richard Damon?”

  Gillian’s knees shook. “I beg your pardon?” She sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Water dripped off of her onto the quilt. That she could focus on. She could not, however, focus on the name that just came out Quint’s mouth. He had no reason to know it, much less hurl it at her.

  Quint slipped into his jeans and squatted in front of her. “I didn’t mean to drop that on you like that.”

  “How?” Her voice eked out just above a whisper.

  “After the fire last night…” He cupped her cheek. “The way you were acting, I put your name into a search engine.” He relayed some of the more horrific details that all the papers had run at the time of the murder. When Gillian did nothing more than sit there he lifted her chin until she met his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’ve never told anyone.” She swallowed hard as her nerves hummed. “Heidi doesn’t even know some of why we left. She was so young, Quint.” She shivered. Quint stood and gathered up the quilt around her. “It was years of therapy before she could sleep in her own room and more still before she had any semblance of a normal life.”

  “Tell me what happened that made you leave Mobile.” The mattress sank beside her as Quint sat. He draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into a cocoon of his arms.

  “Rick had been released from jail one day—one damn day—before he started calling. He wanted to see his ‘Huggie Bear’.”

  “Is he her…”

  “No! Heidi’s father was a boy who went to school with Becca. When he found out my sister was pregnant his parents moved him to Little Rock to finish out his senior year.” She finally managed to get the remainder of the plastic bag off her cast. “Last I heard he was attending Auburn.” She shrugged. “Neither side tried to stay in contact. Rick was a man Becca got involved with when Heidi was two. They were together for two years before she…before she died.

  “When the calls started, I spoke with the prosecutor and they still hadn’t made a decision whether they were going to go after him from Becca’s death. They know he killed her, I know he killed her and Heidi saw it, though thankfully she blocked that day out, but all the evidence they had wouldn’t sway a jury one way or the other.” Her shakes had subsided slightly. “Day after day he kept calling. I had the numbers changed and he’d find it again. I couldn’t understand the almost obsession. He had no affiliation with her really. He could barely tolerate her when he was she was around. I can’t tell you how many times Becca left her with me. Once he got out of jail though… I was in the process of getting a restraining order when I came early from work one day to find him sitting on my front porch.”

  “Jesus.” Now it was Quint’s turn to shake.

  “I snuck in the back of the house, grabbed a few essentials and grabbed Heidi, and we took off for parts unknown. That was a little over a year ago.”

  “The job in Montana?”

  “I was referred by a friend of a friend. No one who knew us would think to look there. When we ended up here by mistake it seemed a good enough place to stay.”

  “Why would you leave then?”

  “It’s getting complicated.”

  “Because of me?”

  Gillian nodded. “And Ryder. And the fires.” For this first time she looked up at Quint. “She was trapped in a fire until a neighbor heard her crying and pulled her out. Her mother’s body was decimated in the same fire. I swear to you on my life Heidi did not nor could not start those fires.”

  “I never…” He shook his head but blanched slightly.

  Gillian nodded quickly. “The fire at the motel, you most certainly entertained the thought it was her. I saw the way you were looking at her.” She shook off his arm and stood, letting the quilt fall to the floor. “I’ll be honest, I thought maybe Rick had found us, but whatever he is, subtle is not it. One or both of us would be dead if he knew where to find us.”

  “What does he want from you? Why would he keep coming after you?”

  “I haven’t the faintest clue.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Quint slept maybe two hours once he’d left Gillian. The pair had talked and talked until Hank brought Heidi home from horseback riding. Then he’d offered to run up to the diner to grab dinner for everyone. He’d hoped the longer he hung around the better chance of her asking him to stay the night, but she wasn’t even close to that point. Once he’d gotten back to the ranch, he’d done a little more research. As best as he could tell—all the goings on of a released suspected killer was big news in Mobile—Rick Damon was well east of the Mississippi River.

  Quint’d broken down and called his aunt and Jacob. He needed someone to talk with to help him sort out the tumble of emotions running through him. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have a couple extra set of eyes watching out for Gillian and Heidi. He’d also sworn them to secrecy. He didn’t want to spook Gillian any more than she already was with the fact that he knew so much about her.

  It killed him to think of her having to deal with anything alone much less some
thing so traumatic as well a potentially lethal… Not anymore, though. He’d be there for her when she needed him.

  To top off his lack of sleep, he’d had to attend to an early morning fire out near the edge of town. An abandoned house had flamed up just before dawn. It hadn’t taken long to put it out thankfully, but it was troubling nonetheless. Especially when he found a pink hair band near the point of origin. One similar to a band that Heidi had worn when she’d come to town.

  Gillian’s claims of her daughter’s innocence the night before rang in his ears. He’d like to think the teen didn’t have anything to do with it, if for nothing else, Gillian’s sake, but the evidence piled up more and more against the newcomer with every blaze.

  “Boy, you need to get the lead out or we’ll be raising fence posts for the next three days.” Hank lifted his straw hat from his head and swiped at his brow with a green bandana.

  Quint gave a quick mental shake. There was no point in worrying over the “what ifs” when the “happening nows” grew with each day. “Sorry.”

  “If your ass was dragging any lower you’d get skid marks on your hide.” Hank slapped the hat back on his head. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Not right now.”

  Hank scoffed. “That’s the same thing Ryder said this morning. I don’t know if I should feel bad the way folks keep pairing off. First you and Gillian, Ryder and Heidi and now Missy and Cade. I never thought I’d say it, but he’s good for my girl. Even though that boy is a Holstrom.”

  “He’s a good guy.” Unlike Rick Damon. Damn, why did his thoughts flip back to that man any chance he got? He’d found a photo of him online and memorized the face. He’d even sent the picture to Jacob and Zan. New people in town stuck out anyway but this way he’d have a harder time getting to Gillian.

  “And I’ll be running off with Clara.”

  “That’s super.” Quint frowned and set the posthole digger down. “Running off to where?”

  “I was just seeing if you were listening. Boy, talking to you’s like talking to this pole.” He smacked his hand atop the four-by-six-post.