“I can’t say I haven’t dreamed about that myself. God, Reese, you’re so calm, cool, and collected all the time, like you’ve never had a hair out of place before. I envy that.”
Just to show her he wasn’t as calm as she thought, he reached over, grabbed her chin, and covered her mouth.
He meant the kiss to be light and feathery and quick. Yet at the first taste he realized nothing about Quinn’s mouth made him want to rush. Instead, he teased her lips open, deepened the kiss. In no time, the light press of lips became a ball of heat that punched a hole in his system.
Caught up in the warmth, Quinn simply surrendered to his onslaught. She whooshed out a breath. “Is that mouth legal?”
He chuckled. “Tyler, I’ve wanted to do that ever since the Sunday afternoon you walked into Kit’s hospital room. But you were too busy railing on me.”
“That day I could see through your veneer, Reese. You didn’t approve of Kit, it showed. And it pissed me off considerably. You were a…”
“Lawyer,” he concluded.
“A horse’s ass,” she corrected, her lips curving in playful scorn.
He poured her another glass of merlot. “I’ve taken a lot of crap from you these last few weeks. And yeah, I was skeptical about Kit at the time. If you’d known the money-hungry Claire Boston, you’d have felt the same way about any woman a friend was obviously falling for—and fast. Way too fast.”
“In your opinion it was fast. Doesn’t mean it was. You do know those two have known each other since she was a kid.”
“Sure, but I didn’t know the grown woman. For all I knew she could’ve turned into a top ten most-wanted grifter.”
Quinn shook her head. “You thought Kit was after Jake’s money? Get real. Kit loved the guy before he took his company gold, before he made a fortune. She cared for him, loved him for who he is, not for what he has.”
“I know that now, but I didn’t know it then. Besides, I’ve seen you cynical plenty times yourself, holding that cool veneer together in your own way. At least you were that day.”
But there was a time she hadn’t known to project a cool veneer or perfect her cynical nature. Her early years had been chaotic and pathetic. “Now maybe, but it wasn’t always like that. Let me ask you something. What were your parents like growing up, Reese? Did you have a stable home life? Were you able to eat regularly? Did your mother read to you at bedtime?”
He lowered his eyes for a moment before meeting hers again. “Yes to all that.”
“That’s what I thought. People who’ve lived Norman Rockwell childhoods like you couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to grow up the way Kit, Baylee, and I did. Never knowing if that instability you faced everyday might get worse with just one little reaction on your part, the wrong response. Never knowing if you might get a backhand for a slip of the tongue. Suffice to say the three of us have had our―challenges over the years.”
She looked into those piercing gray eyes. “You think you know most of it because of the last two months, but you don’t know a thing about it. Don’t presume to know.”
He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Kit. She’d given him the short story about Quinn’s parents. Like the fact she’d never had a real relationship with her father, Nick Tyler, the rock legend and the lead singer for the Irish band Shatter. Not only that, but her mother, the flakey artist Ella Canyon, had pretty much come and gone in her life without sticking around for very long, either.
Reese picked up his wine glass, motioned for her to go on. “So tell me. No one’s stopping me from knowing the real Quinn Tyler but you. Remember, I listened to Kit have to go on record about her abuse—in detail. Listening to her take me through the cruelty she endured in that Beverly Hills horror chamber Alana called a house was painful. Was living with your stepfather as traumatic as Kit’s living with Alana Stevens?”
She eyed him over her glass. “I see Kit’s infamous loose lips have been flapping in the wind again. What else do you think you know about me, Reese? Because I can assure you there are varying degrees of trauma.”
He sighed. Sometime during the last two minutes the prickly pear had shown up. “Look, Kit simply took five minutes to try and explain to me why you hate my profession so much. I know Tyler’s lawyers pretty much handled any communication you tried to have with him over the years. And that your mother was never around much. Don’t beat Kit up because she was trying to explain away your rude behavior at the time.”
She took another sip of wine, set down her glass. “Okay, that’s fair enough.” She put a fist under her chin as if contemplating whether or not she should tell him anything. She never talked about those neglectful childhood years before she came to live in Beverly Hills. Ever. After all, what was the point?
Kit and Baylee were the only two people on earth who knew her life story. But even they didn’t know a hundred percent because she’d locked those memories away so deep down she didn’t like going there, especially with a lawyer, and particularly not tonight after the kind of day she’d had.
But staring at the man sitting next to her, she supposed he did deserve some type of explanation.
“I was a financial responsibility to Nick Tyler, nothing more. Look, my early years were kind of messed up. When life finally settled down for me, everything I needed, everything I wanted from my sperm donor father had to go through a ridiculous array of tedious channels. The stuffy barristers obviously had their client’s best interests at heart, certainly not that of a child. I got sick and tired over the years of listening to their excuses. At some point, he eventually started owning up to his responsibility and sent the checks each month. At least I assumed he did. I certainly never saw much money floating my way aimed just for me.”
She took another sip of wine. “His lawyers must have hit the stall button plenty of times. And then when he did cough it up, what money Ella didn’t use to snort up her nose, she spent shopping on Rodeo Drive like a crack whore, which she was, by the way.
“But if I happened to need something extra for school or if I’d outgrown my two pairs of jeans, those extra requirements had to be put in writing—and justified. Hoops had to be jumped through. When I was younger, around ten or so, I was still in the hopeful stage, that naïve kid daydreaming about the rock star they said had fathered me, thinking he might be curious enough to want to come see his daughter.”
She snorted. “Instead I got letters from the lawyers making up excuses why he couldn’t come for a visit. I’d make him a card on Father’s Day and Christmas then wait for him to get in touch. At the very least I thought he’d respond with a card, write a one-line sentence.”
She set her glass down. “What I got was a big fat nothing for my trouble, nada from Nick-fucking-Tyler.
“Then when Ella married his record producer I was about eight. Our lives changed dramatically after that. We moved to Beverly Hills after years of living in the car or whatever rundown cheap motel she could find where she could pick up a few extra dollars cleaning out rooms or hustling johns. Sometimes she’d be so strung out from the snow, she couldn’t function. When that happened…”
She threw out a sigh. “You see, Reese, before Beverly Hills, Ella hooked, with some regularity, too. I was never sure exactly where we’d spend the night. We might crash at some friend’s house in the valley, or maybe on the couch somewhere in Riverside, or maybe sleep in the car near the beach. I never knew what to expect until it got dark.”
Reese looked at her as if she might be making this up just for him, maybe playing him. But gauging her demeanor, her huge chocolate eyes said it all. She was serious. Kit hadn’t mentioned any of this to him. Then he realized Kit, by her own admission, knew nothing solid about Quinn’s life before she’d arrived in Beverly Hills.
“Why in the world would Nick Tyler’s daughter be living hand-to-mouth with a hooker if she were getting monthly checks of support from his lawyers?”
“Good question, lawyer Brennan, and if you h
appen to find out that answer from Mr. Rock Star Legend, you be sure and let me know, okay? Because I always suspected it was during his stall session fully supported by his lawyers. But I’ve wondered that very thing for most of my life. I even fired off a letter once asking. I was about fifteen then, rebellious as hell. I asked where all the bastards had been those first eight years of my life when I was lucky to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for supper.”
She tossed back her head and laughed. “Naturally there was no response.”
She sucked in a breath. “Those early years were the worst though. After we came to live with Ross Jennetti at least I got to go to school regularly. No more going hungry at night either.”
She picked up her glass and made an air toast. “I’ll say one thing for good old Ross, he always kept a damn fine cook on staff that could and did make delicious food. I used to hoard the food just in case I ever had to get out of there in a hurry.”
Reese shook his head, mortified. Something wasn’t adding up. “Why would you have to leave in a hurry?”
She whooshed out a laugh. “Spoken like a man who has never lived amidst daily turmoil.”
“That’s unconscionable for Nick Tyler’s daughter to be living such a precarious existence. The man’s worth millions.” Not for the first time Reese realized how much Kit, Baylee, and Quinn had overcome in their lives.
Living in Beverly Hills hadn’t afforded any of them with stability or the luxuries associated with the address. “You and your friends have managed to rise above all of that.”
That was an understatement. She wondered if he realized just how much. “That’s right. And the Boyds are just one more thing the three of us have to conquer—together.”
“You can’t do it by yourself.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve been doing things by myself my entire life. With the help of the only family I’ve ever really known, of course. My sisters, maybe not by blood, but by choice, our choice. Kit and Baylee are my family, my true family. And we’ve been on our own for a long time now, Reese. The three of us moved in together at sixteen. Even before that we were a tight unit. And I’m not used to being a unit with anyone else.”
Before he could say anything she went on, “Which brings me to a question for you, what exactly are you looking for here, Reese? Because I recognize you’re putting the moves on me. I’m not sure what you expect, either. Go out? Sure. We could go see a movie. Is that still part of date night? Having a relationship? Now that’s totally different. Resident doctors don’t have a lot of downtime for anything serious. So I tend to avoid anything long-term.”
She wasn’t even sure what a serious relationship looked like, let alone long-term. She bit her lip, took another sip of wine. “Not to mention one with a lawyer.” When she noted that questioning look on his face, she added, “Although there are times when you do get me all jazzed.”
His lips curved. “There’s not a single doubt in me, Quinn, that I couldn’t have you jazzed and on your back in record time. Give me an hour and you’ll be at my mercy.” He toyed with her fingers before he said, “What I’m looking for is to get to know you better. Is that so difficult to understand?”
She rolled her eyes. “Pair up?” She laughed. “Now that is so lame.”
“Good to know you aren’t after jumping my bones then.”
“Now see, saying stuff like that will definitely get you a certain amount of play time.”
“How much play time?”
“We hit the sheets with no intent of getting serious, I’m in. Residents don’t make the best people to date. But we could get to know each other, sure. After all, we’ve got this Boyd thing to ride out, make sure our friends don’t end up dead. Just don’t expect too much from me, Reese. I want to do well as a resident. That’s priority one. I’m not blowing this opportunity for anyone. That is as soon as I get the damned suspension behind me and get reinstated.”
Maybe it was ego, but he felt like telling her he didn’t mind a challenge and she had definitely been more of one these past two months than any other woman since Brie Peterson in his first year of law. Brie had been a prickly pear, too.
But since he watched Quinn’s eyes light up every time she talked about anything to do with medicine, he went another way instead. “Why a pediatrician, Quinn?” When she gave him a cutting look, he shrugged and said, “Kit mentioned it.”
“I like taking care of kids. They are usually the innocent ones who get the short end of the proverbial stick when it comes to the circumstances in life. They get dumped on whenever things take a turn for the worse. And the worse can be pretty damned ugly.”
“Private practice?”
“Yeah, but not Beverly Hills. I want to open my own clinic where all kids from all walks of life can get treatment when their parents can’t afford things like shots, stitches, medicine for an ear infection, stuff like that.”
He reached to take her hand. “Then let’s get this Boyd business behind you and focus on getting you back on duty.”
“What about you, Reese? Why law?”
“My father was a lawyer.” It was said simply and without further clarification.
“And?”
“He died, last year of law school. Sudden heart attack. The plan had been for father and son to practice law together. I’d looked forward to doing that. Then…” Somewhere inside, his own heart wrenched a little just thinking about the loss he’d never quite adjusted to.
“I’m sorry, Reese. You loved him. It shows in your eyes. And after all these years, you still miss him.”
No one had ever picked up on that little chunk about him before. He tilted his head toward the doc, moved in to take her mouth again. This time he moved slower, lingered longer. She tasted like the sweet merlot, so he took the time to tug at her lower lip until he got a nice little moan out of her.
“You do that very well.”
“You know what they say, practice makes perfect.”
“Did I say perfect? Very well is a distant second to perfect. You’ve got an ego there, Brennan.”
He shook his head. “Parsing words again. Such a hard-ass, Tyler.”
She grinned as they got up to leave. “Are you kidding? I’m a sweetheart.”
“Prove it.”
As soon as they got outside, she grabbed his jacket by the lapels and kissed him hard on the mouth. A burst of white heat ramped up. The kiss went on, a tonsil-dive that turned red-hot.
Reese nipped her around the waist and brought her closer, whispered in her ear, “Wanna make out in the parking lot, Tyler, and show me whatcha got?”
She sneaked out a giggle, feeling like a fifteen-year-old teen on her first date. While he playfully backed her in the direction of her car, his arms kept her wrapped up. Meanwhile their mouths continued a steamy byplay.
As soon as they reached her little red Miata, Reese suddenly lifted her off her feet, plopped her down on the fender of the car. He slid in between her legs and bent his head to cover her mouth again.
Quinn parted her lips, met the assault with a force of her own. The mating of tongues took her on a slow path inside a furnace. Her belly danced with lust. She felt him harden like iron.
“Let me take you to bed,” he whispered as he trailed little nips and bites down her jaw.
“Hmm, okay. Let’s get out of here.”
“How about I follow you home?”
“We could go to your place.”
“Westlake Village? Too far away,” he muttered, nibbling that tender spot under her ear.
She tilted her head, giving him better access, and said, “Since you’ve been so un-Reese-like all night and not so annoying, I guess my place is closer. Wherever, let’s just get someplace. I want you; Reese.” Her hands crawled up his chest in anticipation.
With Cade’s earlier threat on his mind and after listening to Quinn’s account of what he’d done to her, Reese already planned on spending the night wherever they ended up. He also knew they had t
o figure out a way to put an end to the Boyd madness once and for all. Even though he believed in the law with all his heart, Reese wasn’t a delusional man.
He knew a restraining order at this point would do little to impede Cade or Collin’s momentum into further malice.
But now was not the time to mention that to Quinn. She looked as relaxed as he’d ever seen her. He intended to do everything in his power to keep her that way for as long as he could.
Instead of bringing up Cade, he prompted, “Then by all means, let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll follow you home.”
CHAPTER 4
Cade and Collin crawled out of the Mercedes at the same time.
One glance at his brother told Cade that Collin was one hundred percent on board now with the plan. He had to be.
Tonight would be a simple but quick strike. If she happened to be home, together as brothers they’d finally take care of her. If she weren’t, then this little raid would, at the very least, make a statement, pay her back for her part in what had happened to Connor.
The way Cade saw it, the sneak attack was a win-win.
But as he approached Quinn’s building from the alleyway, he needed to find out for certain if she were home. Once out of the car, Cade peered into the rear entrance of the parking garage and scanned the dimly lit area. Her Miata wasn’t parked in its dedicated spot.
There had been no light coming from her condo either. At least from here, the place looked dark. But if he got lucky and she happened to be in bed asleep, he’d send Collin out in the hallway to keep lookout and have a little fun with her.
Gripping the wrench he’d brought, he took the stairs two at a time up to the second level, walked down a narrow hallway as if he knew exactly where he was going. Because he did know, he soon found himself standing in front of Quinn’s front door. The fact that she could she still be living in this dump after so many years was only one reason the woman had proved to be unworthy of him. Like so many other things, she had simply refused to do anything to present that certain image that came with being a Boyd.
Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3) Page 5