Under the Gun (CEP Book 3)

by Harper Bentley

  Gunner shrugged. “It was all right.”

  Oz’s grin got bigger. “Heard dessert was even better.”

  Gunner narrowed his eyes. Jesus. He knew Quinn had probably called Tilly first thing this morning and blabbed all about what had happened. And it was only just after nine. Fucking women. “Fuck you, Colonel Sanders.”

  Oz barked out a laugh as he stroked his chin. “I’ll have you know Tilly loves my goatee. Why, just the other night it tickled her—”

  “Fucking Christ,” Gunner mumbled cutting him off at the same time he stood.

  “If you two are done flirting with each other, I need to give you your next assignments,” Hank chastised gruffly looking through the papers on his desk and pulling one up to read. “Oz, I need you to surveil an electronics store near Battery Park after closing tonight. Alarm’s been going off, things are missing. That kinda shit. Cops have been doing drive-bys but haven’t seen anything. Owner says he thinks his ex-wife’s brother has something to do with it. You and Boone’ll stake it out. Might take a couple nights. If the guy shows up, get a few pictures so he can be identified and you’re good.”

  “Got it, bossman,” Oz answered, getting up to leave. “Oh, hey, Tilly and I are throwing a party next Saturday. Everyone’s invited. It’s our one-month wedding anniversary.” He immediately cussed under his breath and Gunner knew that Oz knew he’d fucked up, giving them ammo against him. But before Gunner could say anything, Oz quickly added, “But I’m saying it’s a pre-Super Bowl party.”

  Gunner couldn’t help the shitty grin he wore and he saw that his dad was trying not to laugh.

  “Aw, that’s so fucking cute, man,” Gunner said. He looked at his dad. “First anniversary is paper so what’s the one-month gift? Tissue?” His eyes twinkled when they went back to Oz. “I’ll bring a box of Kleenex.”

  “Fuck off,” Oz muttered.

  “Okay, okay,” Gunner conceded. “I’ll get you Puffs.”

  Hank audibly laughed.

  Oz scowled at father and son. “If I didn’t think Tilly would get pissed at me, I’d uninvite both your asses.”

  “Oh, no. We’ll most definitely be there,” Gunner assured him.

  Oz glared at him for a moment then looked at Hank. “I’ll keep you posted if Boone and I see anything.” He turned to walk out but glanced back at Gunner, deadpanning, “You should bring Quinn Saturday.”

  Before Gunner could get a word out or a finger up, Oz smirked and was gone. Asshole.

  “So, this Quinn,” Hank said.

  “Don’t, Pop.”

  Hank chuckled. “Just messin’ with you, boy.” He looked up at his son over his reading glasses. “You are doing okay, though, yeah?”

  “I’m good, Dad.”

  “Okay, son,” Hank answered, scrutinizing his middle boy to make sure. When Gunner gave an annoyed sigh, Hank picked up another paper, reading it and announcing, “So your assignment tonight is a dinner engagement at the Colony Club and tomorrow, lunch with The Junior League.”

  Gunner raised an eyebrow wondering who his subject was since those were both women’s clubs.

  Hank read the paper. “Miss New York USA, it says. Kimberly Carmichael. I’ll text you the contact information. Dinner tonight is at seven.”

  “Got it, Pop. Gonna meet Chase at the gym now.”

  “Tell your brother to give his mother a call. You know how she worries when she doesn’t hear from you boys at least once a week.”

  “Will do. Later.”

  On his way to the front door, Gunner did his damnedest not to be noticed by Abby, but of course she saw him, as usual.

  “What’re your plans for today, Gunner?” she asked, big grin in place.

  He wasn’t one to put up with much shit and while he really wanted to tell her to drop the fucking act, he knew his parents had raised him better than that. Oh, and his mom would try grounding him if she heard he’d been rude. So instead of laying it out straight, he muttered, “Goin’ to the gym. Then back to work.”

  “Oh! You have the dinner tonight at the Colony Club, right?” She leaned toward him from where she sat behind her desk and declared furtively, “That Kimberly Carmichael? I’ve heard she’s a huge bitch.”

  His fingers went to the bridge of his nose as he fought to hold his tongue. Jesus. “Pretty is as pretty does” was never a truer statement than at that moment.

  “And I heard she’s had so much plastic surgery no one even knows what parts of her are still real.” She let out an imperious giggle.

  He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You know she has a little brother who’s dying?”

  That shut Abby’s big mouth right up. Hell, he didn’t know this Kimberly Carmichael from the next woman but he just wanted to put this chick in her place.

  “Oh. No. I didn’t,” Abby uttered at least looking a little remorseful.

  Glad he didn’t have to harangue her about being the heinous bitch she was, he gave her a head nod, his work there now done, and left.

  “You heading to the gym?”

  “Already there, loser,” Chase, Gunner’s little brother answered over the phone.

  “Well, look at you, all bright-eyed and bushytailed.”

  “Dude. Don’t ever say that shit to me again.”

  Gunner laughed before hanging up but as he drove, he allowed himself for the first time to think of the night before with Quinn. Damn, the woman was hot. Smoking hot. But when he’d left at five this morning, he’d left his card on the pillow which had put the ball in her court. He also hoped it let her know that what they had was nothing more than what it’d been: a one-night stand.

  Because he didn’t need that bullshit in his life right now. Or fucking ever.

  But as he pulled into the gym parking lot he clenched his teeth knowing full well that was a load of crap because if he’d thought before that fucking her would get her out of his head, he knew he was dead wrong.

  And that shit wasn’t cool.

  “Bro, you went off on the clean and jerks,” Chase said, toweling off.

  Gunner sat on the bench in the locker room, towel around his waist knowing he’d pushed himself hard. “Yeah.”

  “What’s on your mind?” Chase asked as he dressed.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Just never seen you so into it like that.”

  Gunner stood and started dressing as well. “Just felt like going hard.”

  “This about a woman?” Chase asked, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

  After pulling on his t-shirt, Gunner squinted right back. “Why?”

  Chase shrugged. “You just seem in your head.”

  Gunner threw his towel in a cart with a sigh then looked at Chase. “I can’t get her out of it.”

  Chase nodded somberly as if he understood, which Gunner knew he probably did since he’d gone through some shit before he married Julia.

  “She’s not even my type,” Gunner groused as he pulled on track pants over his shorts. Chase remained quiet. “Thing is, I don’t want a fuckin’ thing with her.” He jerked his t-shirt over his head. “She’s a fuckin’ smartass who doesn’t know when to shut her goddamned mouth.” He grabbed his hoodie roughly shoving his arms into the sleeves. “But it’s fuckin’ cute when she says the shit she says.”

  Chase grinned at him.

  “Fuck,” Gunner hissed, grabbing up his wallet and keys and jamming them into his pockets. “Shoulda kept my fuckin’ mouth shut.”

  He turned to go and Chase followed him, declaring, “Julia was the same, man. I didn’t want anything to do with her either but you see how that worked out.”

  Gunner turned to face his brother in the lobby, pointing a finger at him. “Do not say that shit, Chase. That’s not where this is heading.”

  Outside in the crisp January morning air as they walked to their cars, he heard Chase sigh. “Look. It’s not the end of the world to let a woman love you.” Gunner scowled at him. “And it’s not a bad thing to love her back.” />
  “Save it,” Gunner snapped heading to his Camaro.

  “You deserve to be happy!” Chase hollered after him.

  Gunner acted as if he hadn’t heard his brother, getting into his car, starting it and revving the engine before peeling out of the parking lot.

  Chapter 5

  “But it’s Saturday!” Quinn complained into her phone as she rolled out of bed then went to her dresser to pull on panties and a huge white t-shirt that Rod had left a couple months before.

  “Get your happy ass down here at six,” Tilly replied. “It’s ten now. That gives you eight hours of peace and quiet before having to listen to a bunch of dogs barking. I’ve got a media pass for you at the door. All you’ve gotta do is show them your ID.”

  “You’re gonna owe me big time.”

  “I believe running in the 5k for mental health with you for the past, oh, five years is payment enough,” Tilly retorted.

  “Fuck.”

  Tilly giggled. “And just so you know, I assumed you and Gunner slept together last night so I told John this morning.”

  Quinn stopped mid-spreading of toothpaste on her toothbrush. “You what?”

  “I told John.”

  “Oh, my God! If he says something to Gunner, Gunner’s gonna think I told you!” Quinn let out a groan.

  “Ha! I knew you slept with him!”

  As she started brushing, Quinn rolled her eyes. “Yoo knew I dood!” she garbled out between brush strokes. “He’s tho phot! How cood I bot?”

  “What?”

  Quinn spit then rinsed. “I said you knew I would and he’s so hot how could I not.” As she wiped her mouth on a towel, she went on, “And I’m done with him.”

  “You’re done with him? Already?” She heard Tilly gasp. “He’s bad in bed, isn’t he?”

  In the kitchen, Quinn had pulled a caffeinated water from her fridge, opening it and taking a guzzle on which she choked at hearing that. Grabbing a hand towel, she scolded, “Warn me when you’re gonna say something like that, Till! God! But, no. He was amazing as I knew he would be.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “Fucker left his business card on the pillow. No goodbye, no nothing. Not cool. I mean, who does that shit?” She took another slug of the drink. “I can hear you frowning.”

  Tilly laughed. “How do you always know what I’m doing?”

  “You’re my best friend. Plus, you pretty much wear every emotion on your sleeve, Till.”

  “I do not!”

  “You do.”

  As she opened her front door to retrieve the newspaper, Quinn heard Tilly huff. “Well, I can’t help it if I care. And you didn’t check the peephole before opening the door, did you?”

  “Nope.” Quinn closed the door then went to the bar and climbed up on one of the stools pulling her knee up to her chest. “Never do. Why would I? Not like anyone can get into my apartment building except those I’ve told the code.”

  “I guess living with John has made me hyperaware of every danger there is now. Oh, and that little incident with Graham Hightower.”

  Quinn was more than proud that Tilly could say the name of her kidnapper and would’ve-been murderer, which she knew sounded strange that she felt that way about her best friend, but it’d taken a lot of talking to get Tilly to face everything. And she knew now that she’d almost healed from the incident.

  “I know, honey. That fucker’s where he needs to be now. Six feet under and burning in hell.”

  “Yeah.”

  Quickly changing the subject, Quinn asked, “So you’re at the dog show now? Are there any hot dog guys there?”

  “You’re hungry for a hot dog at 10 a.m.?”

  “No, you dork!” Quinn laughed. “I meant hot dog owners. Handsome guys who have a dog. Jesus.”

  “Oh!” Tilly giggled. “Yeah, there are a few. One guy has the cutest Labradinger!”

  “So that’s what they’re calling it these days,” Quinn quipped.

  Tilly cracked up. “No, silly, it’s a cross between a Lab and an English Springer Spaniel.”

  “Ah, gotcha.”

  “But, yeah, he looks a lot like Tom Hardy. Which means hot!”

  “I could go for a Tom Hardy lookalike.”

  “As in Tom Hardy in Warrior.”

  “Be still my fucking heart,” Quinn remarked indifferently as she skimmed the paper. She’d had enough of good-looking douchebags in the last twenty-four hours, thank you very much. Not that Tom was a douchebag. No, strike that. He was hot so he probably was.

  “You’re in a mood today.”

  Quinn blew out a breath. “It’s morning, Till. You know I hate mornings.”

  “Yeah, but I can tell you’re…a little out of sorts,” Tilly pushed.

  “Look. I got laid. It was great. Then I got a business card. Not so great. So, yeah, not in the greatest of moods but I’ll live.” She’d talk with Tilly later about her insecurities when it came to Gunner, just not now when it was…morning. Ergh.

  “If it helps, from what John says, Gunner’s not dated anyone seriously in a couple years.”

  “Honey, I’m good. I’m done talking about it.”

  “Okay. Oh! I ordered the cutest plates for the party next Saturday! They have pictures of John and me from our wedding. They’re so cute!”

  “Of course they are. You took the photos,” Quinn muttered flipping the paper and stopping to look at an article about the dog show Tilly was shooting. Her leg dropped and she sat up straight. “This thing lasts until eleven tonight!”

  Tilly laughed. “I only have to stay until about eight. I thought we could stop by Zag’s after and have a drink.”

  “Okay. I can do that. But that’ll fulfill my dog watching quota for the next three years.”

  “See you at six,” Tilly said with a giggle before hanging up.

  “That dog’s dick is huge!” Quinn whispered loudly making Tilly hush her. Quinn looked at her. “What? It is! And you know it! I’ve slept with guys who were smaller! Damn!”

  Tilly shook her head, looking apologetically at a few bystanders as she moved to get a better shot.

  “God. I’ll bet the men here have some serious penis envy going on. I know I would if I were a guy,” Quinn added.

  Tilly stopped with a sigh then looked at her watch. “Let’s go.”

  “Goody!” Quinn answered, bringing her palms up for baby claps.

  “God, you’re like a large toddler,” Tilly declared wryly as she packed her camera into its bag then they made their way from the show floor. She turned back to look at her petite friend. “Well, a regular-sized toddler, but a toddler nonetheless.”

  Quinn stuck out her tongue and chuckled knowing she’d gotten her way by behaving like a brat but whatever. “At least I don’t have to look at dogs or their freaking wangs any longer,” she mumbled.

  “Only you could make a dog show sexual,” Tilly chided as she hailed a cab.

  “But did you see the size of that one dog’s—”

  “Shut it!” Tilly cut her off, laughing.

  “Talk about one canine cock and look what it gets you…”

  “You did not!”

  Quinn nodded, her shoulders coming up, her face wearing an Oops! expression.

  “You challenged him in a…in some kind of a…in some weird sex duel?” Tilly stared at her, wine glass stopped halfway from her lips.

  All Quinn could do was nod sheepishly.

  “What’s going on with you?”

  Now Quinn blew out a breath. “I like him. As in, really like him. So in my mind, it all made sense. It was like my heart was screaming at my cranium to protect it and that was the result.”

  “A sexual power struggle?”

  Another nod.

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah.”

  Tilly finished what was left in her glass then held it up to the waitress who was passing by signaling she needed another as Quinn did the same.

  “What?” Quinn finally
asked after Tilly had stared at her for a few moments.

  “It’s gonna piss you off, but I’m just gonna be blunt.”

  “Do your worst,” Quinn muttered intercepting her glass from the waitress whose intention had been to set it on the table. “Hang on.” Quinn took a big gulp. “Okay, go.”

  Tilly tilted her head to the side as she began. “I’ve watched you date for going on ten years now, and with the exception of Jackson, you always pick men who are…I can’t think of the word.” She took a drink. “Pushovers, maybe?”

  “Easily dominated?” Quinn helped with a chuckle.

  “Yes! That’s it!” Tilly narrowed her eyes at her. “I think you do that for a reason.”

  Quinn shrugged.

  “You do it on purpose.” More eye narrowing. “You’re protecting yourself.”

  “So?” Quinn watched a handsome man at another table stand then get down on one knee at the side of the woman he was with, proposing. “Look. That guy’s shoe was untied.”

  Tilly looked where Quinn had nodded and gasped. “Oh, my gosh! That’s so sweet!”

  “Yeah, nothing like getting your woman plastered before asking the biggest question of her life.”

  Looking back at her, Tilly snorted. “You’re a mess! It’s sweet!” She took a drink. “My point is, what you’ve been doing is self-sabotage. And I’m beginning to think that you’re…yeah, you’re scared!”

  Quinn frowned. “I wouldn’t say scared, per se. I’d say more like unwilling to be controlled.”

  Tilly frowned back at her. “Just because you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean you’re being controlled.”

  “No? If John called right now and said he needed you, you’d leave. Am I right?”

  “If I were with John right now and you called and said you needed me, I’d leave. That says nothing.”

  “Okay, if John told you he didn’t want you going somewhere, you’d…obey him.”

  “I wouldn’t obey him. I’d listen to his reasoning and if it was valid, I’d do what he asked. Same as for anyone who made a credible statement. Where’s this coming from?”

  “I don’t know.” Quinn sighed.

  “I know your parents have an amazing relationship. And they’re best friends. So what’s happened that you’re in this mindset?”