Boom

by Stacy Gail

  Her only real weapon was her mouth, and she was seriously worried it would go off like a landmine if someone stepped out of line with Quinn. She knew it was none of her business how his family had let him down; she had no right to get angry on his behalf.

  But there was such a thing as being loyal, damn it all. Loyalty was a virtue that meant everything to her, right behind love and trust. If the world’s population felt the same way she did about being loyal to the people in their lives, there wouldn’t be problems like family ostracizing its own members, parents abandoning children who weren’t a priority, or fiancées who proposed to other women. The world would be a better place if people just showed a little more loyalty. Less dramatic, maybe, but a better place.

  “Damn, Red.” In the process of zipping up his jacket, Quinn paused to take her in, and with his gaze heating up she was suddenly very glad she’d taken extra care with her makeup. “Never knew icy blue could be so hot.”

  A crazy little thrill zipped through her as she dragged her own jacket on. “Thanks, Boom. Do you think I’m going to have any trouble getting there in these boots?”

  “If you do, I’ll be happy to carry you. Those legs and that ass are way too sexy in heels to make you change.” His arm came around her waist and he buried his face in her hair. “We’re there an hour, tops. Then you get a headache, and I get you back in the sack, moaning my name and begging me to make you come. Sound like a plan?”

  “Yeah.” Her heart—and girlie parts—were throbbing so much she barely felt the cold as she headed out with him toward the main resort.

  The heated walkways were getting overwhelmed by the vast amount of snow the storm had dumped so far, but it wasn’t too bad as they made the trek from the chalet to the main building. In the short time that had elapsed since she’d done an evaluation of the resort, there were already coat racks lining the walls of the vestibule, and as they were hanging up their outer gear, Olivia hurtled through the inner automatic doors.

  “Hey, uh…wow. So. Mia. You brought Mia.” Eyes wide and looking uncharacteristically anxious, Olivia looked from Mia to her cousin, and there seemed to be something she was trying to communicate. “That… I wasn’t expecting that. Damn.”

  “What the fuck, Olivia,” Quinn growled, even as the horrified awkwardness of suddenly finding herself in the role of uninvited guest washed over Mia. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “It’s okay, Quinn. Family only. I get it.” Mortified, Mia stepped back, but Quinn’s arm snaked around her shoulders and pulled her firmly against his side, when she wanted to make a grab for her discarded coat and run for it.

  “Of course I brought Mia with me,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, glaring daggers at his cousin. “Why the hell wouldn’t I? She can go any fucking place she wants to at Whiteout, as both my guest and my woman.”

  Even while Mia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, his statement made her catch her breath and dart a shocked glance his way while those words resonated in the air. Her stomach fluttered so frantically she forgot the heavy awkwardness of being someplace she wasn’t welcome, while Olivia held out both hands, palms out.

  “Whoa, slow down, that wasn’t what I was getting at. It’s just…geez, your woman? Could you have worse timing? I mean, I get it, and if my door swung that way and if I weren’t a happily married woman, I’d totally go for Mia too. But let me reiterate—your timing fucking sucks, dude.”

  Though Mia hadn’t thought it possible, Quinn’s scowl got worse. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Lorette. She’s here.”

  Mia wasn’t sure how she knew a bomb had gone off, but she was certain one had. Maybe it was in how Quinn went statue-still, or how he seemed to lose a drop of color, or the way his upper lip inched up at if he’d caught a scent of something foul.

  Or maybe it was how his arm suddenly dropped away from her, and all at once she was uncomfortably aware of how chilly it was in the drafty vestibule.

  “You’ve gotta kidding me.” Quinn’s tone matched his look—blank, without any hint of identifiable emotion. The sound of it made a block of ice fall into the pit of her stomach.

  Olivia shook her head with a disgusted roll of her eyes. “I thought maybe she was with Garth and he’d brought her because, you know, he’s kind of an idiot and never thinks things through. But they’re not together anymore. That bitch got her chunky ass over here to Whiteout all on her own like she thinks she has a right to be here. Thomas wants to throw her out, so if that’s what you want, just give him the high sign.”

  “Fuck.” Like Olivia, Quinn’s expression filled with disgust mingled with an abrasive energy that wasn’t hot enough to be labeled as anger, but definitely hit the realms of aggravation. He turned to her, his turbulent gaze sliding over her face as if trying to memorize it. “Maybe it was a bad idea to bring you, after all.”

  His words hit her like a sledgehammer, and she took a step back to absorb the shockingly painful blow. “If you want me to leave—”

  He caught her by the hand and held on tight. “What I don’t want is for you to be uncomfortable, and I sure as hell don’t want you pushed into a spotlight thanks to a bitch of a shallow-ass ex who clearly doesn’t have any fucking shame.”

  “Ex? You mean… your ex?” Strangely horrified by the concept, Mia searched his expression and was absurdly relieved to see only sharp aggravation there. “Wife or girlfriend?”

  He made a sound of disdain. “Girlfriend, thank God. I would’ve been a fucking idiot if I’d let her get her hooks into me with a goddamn marriage license. Hell, maybe I was a fucking idiot. I was actually thinking about settling down with her a couple years ago when I went out on my own. But as soon as I was no longer one of the high-rolling casino Kingfishers, Lorette dropped my ass like I had the plague along with everyone else.”

  Mia barely contained a snarl, while something darker twisted like poison in her chest to hear he’d nearly proposed to this… this… Lorette. “Man, you really found out who your friends were, didn’t you?”

  His eyes were almost black with remembered bitterness. “You could say that.”

  “You could also say you dodged a bullet,” Olivia offered, grimacing. “After you, that bitch tried to go straight into Brody’s bed, but he wanted nothing to do with her.”

  Quinn’s brows shot up. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Not surprising, since you two weren’t talking by that point. But he just about yelled the roof off in the lobby of Hot Ice a few nights after your last official day there. Right in front of everyone, Brody told her to go to Vegas where she’d undoubtedly flourish, since fucking for money wasn’t illegal there. Needless to say, he wasn’t that impressed with her lack of loyalty toward you.”

  “He’s one to talk,” Quinn muttered, but without the heat Mia had come to expect.

  Olivia looked pained in having to nod in agreement. “After that embarrassing scene, you’d think Lorette would’ve gotten the picture, but apparently she’s got a high tolerance for being hit in her pride. She bounced her big Kim K. ass over to Dev, who played with her for about a month. Then he kicked her over to someone else before she finally wound up with Garth. I think she’s got a Kingfisher fetish.”

  “What Lorette’s got is a lot of social-climbing ambitions gleaming away under those false eyelashes, along with big, fat dollar signs. I just never saw that until I had enough distance to get a good, long look at her.”

  “So it’s like Olivia said,” Mia put in, her fingers squeezing his. “You got lucky and dodged a bullet.”

  “We both did, from the sound of it.” He turned so that his long, lanky body brushed hers, and suddenly it seemed downright steamy in the vestibule. “You don’t have any lingering regrets about your near-miss with the Seattle dickhead, do you?”

  “We’re not talking about me.” But the question had her doing a quick but all-important inventory of her feelings, and the one shocking thing she still couldn’t find was heart
break. Not even a little. There was no wondering how she was going to go on alone—which made sense, since she’d been alone for seven months now without a single word from Jackson. Nor was there a grief-stricken sense of loss, or a pining to get back the love that held her together. She hadn’t fallen apart and there was no ache. She had a good life. She felt whole and complete and ridiculously happy.

  Considering that the man holding her was such an awesome lover that even now, just thinking about him made warmth bloom between her legs, being happy wasn’t much of a surprise.

  He cupped her jaw, bringing her attention back to him. “That asshole treated you like shit, so you don’t miss him, Mia. You hear me? You don’t.”

  He was right, but she couldn’t help but lift a brow. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

  “I’m telling you. I’m stating it flat-out right now—you’re not allowed to spend one more fucking thought on him.”

  “Oh, really?” She pursed her lips, torn between finding his attitude adorable and exasperating. “You know, you can be unbelievably pushy when you want to be.”

  “What I am is serious. He doesn’t deserve any headspace where you’re concerned, so he doesn’t get any. All that’s mine now, along with everything else.”

  Good grief. “Okay, but—”

  “No buts. Mine. All of you.”

  “This is really cute and all,” Olivia complained, and Mia started, because she’d forgotten Quinn’s cousin was still there, “but could we get a move-on? I’m freezing my butt off, and I want to get back to make sure my husband hasn’t thrown Lorette through a window.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Mia nodded, determined to not let Quinn’s arrogant declaration bug her. She’d worry about it later, if it ever came up again. For now, he needed to know he had her total support, and she wasn’t about to be deterred by his fickle relatives.

  Or his ex.

  Her jaw knotted with an unsettled tension she couldn’t put a label on. As hot as Quinn was, it wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d had scores of women in his past. That was fine with her. Past drama didn’t matter in the least. What mattered was that she was there now. True, she was just passing through, and because of that she sure as hell didn’t fall under the traditional definition of “girlfriend.” But as of this morning she was the woman who was wearing his hickeys and warming his bed, so she’d be damned if she was going to let an old flame stir things up to see if there were any embers still burning.

  With that in mind, she slid her arm through his with a possessiveness she couldn’t help. “Let’s get this over with, shall we? We’ve got somewhere to be in an hour.”

  That wiped his scowl away as if it had never been, and he bent his head to nuzzle his face against hers. “Damn straight.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Olivia said, sounding dangerous as she led the way into the main lobby. Reluctantly Mia and Quinn followed, and Mia saw that there were more people milling around the warm, cavernous area than she’d ever seen. “You guys are not bailing in an hour.”

  “Try to stop us,” Quinn invited, but it lacked any bite since his attention wasn’t on his cousin. It was pinned so completely on Mia that she couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she was going to get through the next hour without melting into a puddle at his feet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When they entered Après Ski, the resort’s main restaurant, Mia was mildly surprised to see that many of the tables were taken up, the top of the bar was filled with what looked to be a potluck spread, and the industrial-sized coffee makers were going full-tilt. Automatically she sifted through the faces, most of them she didn’t know, but a few she did, like Otto, Alexander, Emma and Elise, and she smiled and nodded at each in turn.

  It was harder to keep her smile from splintering around the edges when her gaze brushed over Jase and Brody, both of whom were sipping coffee out of mugs stamped with the Whiteout Mountain logo, but she was hopeful they hadn’t noticed. Their attention seemed riveted on Quinn, which was exactly where it should be, as far as she was concerned. Considering their attention had been woefully lacking for two whole years while Quinn struggled with a life-altering decision, she could only hope they now dedicated themselves to making up for all that lost time.

  “Honey.” Elise came up and kissed Quinn on the cheek, smiling as if the world was filled with nothing but rainbows, cherubs and unicorns. “I know it’s early for you, but I’m glad you decided to join us for brunch. You too, Mia. This is a good opportunity for you to meet the rest of the family. You didn’t get a chance to meet my husband yesterday, did you?”

  “Oh, crap,” Olivia muttered.

  “I didn’t have that pleasure.” Mia kept her expression neutral while Quinn’s hold on her transferred to her waist. “And really, I don’t want to be in the way, Elise. I know this is a family gathering.”

  “Nonsense, you’ve been the perfect first guest for Whiteout, complete with great feedback on how you view the place from both a guest’s perspective and as a professional stager.” Elise waved Mia’s comment away while a blonde, athletic-looking man came up behind Olivia and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I can’t believe how lucky we were that you got diverted here to our neck of the woods, just when we needed you the most.”

  “It was more than luck,” the blonde man said, smiling at her from over Olivia’s shoulder. “I think you were meant to be here, Mia. I’m Thomas Crenna, by the way, Olivia’s husband, head ski instructor here at Whiteout once we’re officially open, and one of your fans. Olivia’s had a lot of great things to say about you, so it’s good to finally meet you.”

  Mia shot a happy but surprised look to Olivia. “Uh, wow, really? I was sure I hadn’t been here long enough to impress anyone.”

  Quinn snorted and turned his face into her hair to murmur for her ears alone, “You definitely impressed me this morning, baby.”

  As her cheeks began to burn, she wondered if anyone would notice if she stomped on his foot. Seriously, did the man really have to say that to her now, when his freaking mother was standing right there?

  “Quinn Etienne, whatever you just said turned poor Mia into a tomato, so as your mother I should tell you to mind your manners,” Elise announced on cue, but she was beaming as she watched them, her hands clasped together at her heart and looking like it was all she could do to stop herself from bouncing with glee. “He’s always been a terrible tease, Mia. I’ve never been able to make him behave.”

  “Quinn admitted that he ignores the concept of manners whenever they get in his way, so that probably explains the whole not-behaving thing.”

  “Manners are for suckers. I can always smooth things over once I’ve gotten my way.” He lifted a careless shoulder even as a black-haired woman approached. Out of the corner of her eye, Mia noted that her curves were so bodacious they threatened to bust every seam in her body-conscious wraparound blouse and tan leather-look skinny jeans. About a half-second after she’d clocked the woman, she noticed Jase was also making his way toward their circle from the opposite side of the room, accompanied by Brody and another tall, lanky man with short-cropped hair and the kind of scruff that made a woman’s hand itch to touch.

  Oh boy.

  Mia didn’t think; she acted. She acted because Quinn had wanted her there, because he’d trusted her to be in his corner more than his own family. That trust meant everything to her.

  But most of all, she acted because she wanted everyone to understand that Quinn was no longer alone.

  Especially that seam-busting woman.

  Pivoting into his hold so that they stood belly to belly, Mia brought her hands up to frame his face. Her fingers slid into the thick, silky fall of his hair as she made damned sure his eyes were focused on her, and her alone.

  Just the way she wanted.

  “If manners are for suckers, then you won’t mind my appalling lack of manners when I do this.” And with that, she stretched up the few inches separating them to cover his mouth with
hers.

  Boom.

  She’d wanted to make enough of a statement to stop whatever hostile forces were on their way, or at least give them enough pause to make them realize that in the grand scheme of things, they were irrelevant. What she hadn’t planned on was the instantaneous heat that sparked between them when their mouths touched. Her body went up in invisible flames as Quinn took the kiss over, with one of his hands diving into her hair to cradle the back of her head while the other slid to her ass to pull her hard up against his hips. A small voice deep inside flailed and freaked that this was in front of his entire family, but the flames easily drowned it out.

  The kiss had a life of its own, taking over with no regard to those pesky manners she’d mentioned. All that mattered was kissing. She reveled in the hot melding of his lips over hers, tasting his caressing tongue, mating her mouth with his. Quinn’s kisses were never just kisses; they were intimacy and desire and a declaration that this was right, and if she could have lived in that moment forever, it would have been her idea of perfect.

  “What the hell is this shit all about?”

  His head lifted after the squeaky screech sliced like a knife through the air. Mia opened her eyes and found him staring not at what she knew to be the source of that screech behind her, but right at her. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered, and all he could see was her. Or maybe that was just her kiss-drunk brain projecting what she was feeling about him.

  Quinn really was all she could see, because he was the only thing in the universe that mattered. Which was crazy. And scary.