Her hair was loose and hung in soft curls down her back. She had on a little yellow dress that rested mid-thigh, and her long legs were tucked into a pair of shorty cowgirl boots embroidered with flowers. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve guessed she was straight outta Texas.
At first, he’d pulled out a plain t-shirt to wear, but now was glad that he’d changed his mind and wore a short-sleeved, Rockmount, pearl snap shirt.
“Ready?” she asked, taking the bottle from his hand and pulling her own swig of beer.
When she handed it back, he finished what was left of it, set it on the table, and led her over to his truck.
“You look mighty pretty tonight, Darrow,” he said as she climbed up on the running board. He couldn’t help but breathe in her scent, which seemed completely natural. No perfume needed with this woman.
She smiled and tucked her dress under her bottom, all lady-like, before she sat on the seat. “You look mighty handsome yourself, Quint.”
Instead of walking around the front of his truck, Quint went around the back, giving himself time to roll his shoulders. This woman hadn’t been in Texas three days, and here they were, going out to dinner alone, her in a dress, him in a pearl-snap. If that wasn’t date attire, he didn’t know what was. On top of that, he’d told her she looked pretty, and she reciprocated. That, ladies and gentlemen, was called flirting, and he wasn’t supposed to be doing it.
Before he got into the truck, he gave himself a pep talk, determined to rein himself way in.
Of course that resolve went all to hell as soon as she looked over at him and smiled.
HE PULLED up in front of the hundred-year-old saloon and put the truck in park. There were plenty of open spaces now, but three or four hours from now, the place would be packed. Most of the cowboys were away at ranch rodeos on the weekend this time of year, which meant Thursday night would be the Long Branch’s busiest.
He walked around and opened Darrow’s door, holding out his hand to help her down.
“Thank you,” she murmured and then put her hand on her stomach. “Oh my God, what is that?”
“What do you mean?” Shit, was she getting sick like Wren was?
“That smell. It’s heavenly.”
He had to admit, there was little that smelled better than a big ol’ steak on a fired up grill after being out on the ranch all day long. “If I had to guess. I’d say it was a t-bone.”
“That’s what I’m having.”
He wouldn’t spoil her fun by telling her that the steak was bigger than she was.
They got a table across from the bar, and Quint sat where he could keep watch on every cowboy that walked in and eyed her up. If one craned their neck a little too long, he’d shoot a glare their way, and if one dared approach the table, he’d send a death ray in their direction.
The Branch wasn’t the kind of place that had menus. If you didn’t know what they offered, you probably didn’t belong in these parts.
He saw the bartender, a man Quint had known almost all his life, sauntering over to take their order.
“You still want that t-bone?” he asked.
“Um, sure.”
“Beer okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Mind if I just order for the both of us?”
“Have at it, cowboy.”
Goddamn, did she have to keep smiling at him that way? And that accent, shit, it made him want to carry her back out to his truck and go find some quiet country road where he could kiss the daylights out of her.
“Hey, Bobby. We’re ready to order.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow.
“Two t-bones, medium rare, loaded bakers, and two long necks.”
“You got it. Anything else, Mr. Alexander?”
Quint shook his head and laughed. “That’ll do it, Mr. Monahan.”
“I take it you know him,” said Darrow when Bobby left the table, chuckling.
“Since we were kids.”
“Cheers,” she said when Bobby came back with the two bottles of beer. “I like this place. Thanks for bringing me here.”
Quint looked around the bar with its wood plank flooring covered in sawdust and the barstools with red leather seats that were so old the stuffing had come out through the cracks. “You sure about that?”
“What? That I like it? I don’t. I love it.”
“Lookin’ pretty old and tired to me.”
“You Yanks. Calling a place old that’s been around, what? A hundred years?”
Quint nodded.
“The pub closest to the abbey, that my mates and I frequent, has been around since the 1200s.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“I’d like to see that place.”
“Seeing as I don’t plan to return to England, I guess you’ll have to get someone else to be your tour guide.”
Quint leaned forward when she rested against the tall back of the booth. “Why aren’t you going back?”
“It’s a long story.”
He laughed and motioned to Bobby, who nodded at him. “Bring us a bucket.”
Darrow’s eyebrow raised, and he knew damn well she wanted to ask, but he also knew damn well she wouldn’t. A minute later, the bartender dropped a bucket on their table, with ten more long necks set in ice.
“We got all night and plenty of beer. Let’s hear it.”
“Only if you tell me why Deck calls you Fish.”
Quint sat back. “I promise, when the time is right, you’ll know. But trust that if I tell you, it won’t be nearly as good as you seeing for yourself.”
That intrigued her, he could tell. Those sweet dimpled cheeks of hers were flaming bright red.
“My story pales in comparison, then, I’m afraid.”
Quint looked into her eyes, knowing full well that he was way beyond simple flirting. He wanted to know everything about this woman. Why she didn’t want to go back to England, why she thought her dream job was unrealistic, and most especially, how she’d look with that long dark hair spread out on his lily-white sheets when he spent hours getting acquainted with her naked body. “Tell me anyway,” he said in his most cowboy-like voice.
“I promise you it isn’t that interesting.”
“Tell me and I’ll be the judge.”
“You see, the reason is that when I’m in England, I’m not very interesting.”
“I don’t believe that nonsense for a minute.”
“It’s true. I’m the daughter of the fourteenth Duke of Bedfordshire and sister of the fifteenth, who was also a high-ranking MI6 agent. That same brother is married to a woman who was a former Russian assassin. They met when she was hired to kill him. Now they’re married and have two children.”
She looked up at him after playing with the label on her beer bottle the entire time she spoke.
“Go on.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
Quint took a long drink, set his empty bottle on the table, and folded his hands.
“Okay, but you’ll soon be falling asleep.”
Quint didn’t say a word, nor did his expression change.
“As it turns out, my father had an affair with one of the scullery maids before he married my mother, which culminated in the birth of a son. In exchange for a lofty position with MI6, my mother—you caught that part, right? My mother arranged for Sir Ranald Caird, her beau at the time, to marry the pregnant maid so she, my mother, could one day be Duchess of Bedfordshire. After my father’s death, two things happened. The child that Sir Caird raised with the former maid went positively mad and tried to kill both of my brothers, and well, blow up the entirety of the abbey. Oh, and the Russian assassin along with my nephew—a baby at the time—and myself, were used as bait to lure my brothers into his trap.”
Quint raised a brow.
“See?”
“What’s the rest of the story?”
“Well, then, my other brother, Sutton, fell in love with your sister. I’m
not sure what happened there, because neither of them will speak of it, but whatever the story is, I’m sure it’s interesting.”
“Why are you here, Darrow?”
“Because when I’m there, I get lost.”
“What does that mean?”
“Conversations take place around me as if I’m too thick to understand what everyone else is talking about.” She sighed and blinked away the tears in her eyes. “I’m feeling sorry for myself now,” she whispered.
“No, you’re not. You’re telling me why you left.”
“The final straw was when my boyfriend, who also works for MI5—oh, wait, did I tell you that Sutton is now the interim chief of MI6?”
Quint shook his head. “Tell me about the boyfriend.”
“He’s known me my whole bloody life.” She looked away, and as much as he wanted her to look at him when she told him the thing that was hardest for her, he gave her the space to do it her way.
“I told him. Hypothetically, of course.”
“That you wanted to work for MI6?”
She nodded, but still didn’t turn to look at him. “Not me, per se.”
Quint wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t matter. “How did he react?”
“As though it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.”
Quint reached across the table and took her hand.
“I’m a decoration,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “My job is to look pretty, be prepared to speak when spoken to, on any number of subjects, even though whomever I’m conversing with doesn’t bother to even listen to my response.”
“You and the boyfriend…what happened?”
“I told him to sod off, but it wasn’t just that he didn’t take me seriously about MI6. In fact, I don’t think he was even listening to me. But there was more. He turned into someone who treated me the same way everyone else did. Like I didn’t have a brain in my head.” She turned her head and looked right at him. “I went to bloody Oxford. They don’t just let anyone in, you know.”
“I do know. So why here?”
“Your sister. She was the first person who talked to me, confided in me, included me, when no one else did. She never assumed I was thick as a plank.”
“Because you’re not. You’re one of the brightest, most interesting people I’ve ever met.”
“Give it time. You’ll see. As soon as the pale is off the rose, you’ll find me as boring as everyone else does.”
“That would never happen.”
“As they say, never say never.”
Bobby approached the table, carrying two enormous platters of food. When he set one in front of Darrow, she looked at Quint, her eyes as big as saucers, and burst out laughing.
“Why didn’t you tell me I was ordering an entire cow?”
Quint laughed too. “It’s what you wanted. You should always get what you want, Darrow. You deserve it.”
The smile left her face, and she lowered her gaze. “You’re being nice, and I appreciate it—”
Quint reached over and put his fingers on her chin. “Look at me.”
She looked up.
“In the short time I’ve had the pleasure to know you, you’ve impressed me at every turn. You’re aware of every single thing happening around you. Things it took me years to learn, you pick up in an afternoon. You probably understand more about ranching than I do because you’re that smart.”
“Quint, you don’t have to do this.”
“I’m not doing anything except stating the truth. Whoever can’t see it the way I do, doesn’t deserve you in their life.”
He knew his voice sounded angry, because he was. Darrow Whittaker was everything he could ever imagine wanting a woman to be, and yet whoever this asshole was that called himself her boyfriend, made her doubt herself so much that she’d left home to create a different life.
“Should we invite the rest of the bar over to join us? We have enough food to feed them all.”
“You may want to share yours, but there’s no way they’re getting any of mine.”
“You can’t eat all of that.”
“You don’t think so? Watch me.”
8
Darrow couldn’t believe it, but Quint was true to his word. He not only ate all of this steak, but finished the potato too. She’d quit eating at least ten minutes ago, her stomach full, and yet it didn’t look as though she’d eaten ten percent of her meal.
“It’s a terrible waste,” she said.
“Don’t worry, it’ll get eaten.”
Her eyes opened wide. “You’re joking.”
Quint laughed out loud. “Not by me. At least not this time.”
“Thank you, Quint. I really enjoyed myself tonight. And today.”
“It isn’t over yet.”
“No?”
“Ever line danced?”
“Can’t say as I have.”
“Then, you will tonight.”
“I’m not a good dancer.”
“Right. And you’re not very interesting either.”
She laughed. “I’m serious. I’ll step on your feet.”
“Not when we line dance, darlin’.”
DARROW WAS SO tired she almost fell asleep on the ride home, but it had been a wonderful day. She’d enjoyed the time she spent riding the ranch, and then their time at dinner even more. She’d been the one insisting they stay and dance longer once she’d gotten the hang of it. She’d felt like Cinderella, knowing that soon the clock would strike midnight and they’d have to leave, but she wanted to squeeze out every bit of fun she could before that happened. Her face even hurt from smiling as much as she had.
Quint made her feel so special, and for that, she couldn’t thank him enough.
He pulled up in front of the ranch house, turned the ignition off, and came around to open her door. He held out his hand to help her out, but something felt different about him. He was no longer smiling, and even though his hand touched hers, he felt a million miles away.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yep. It’s all good. Let’s get you inside and then I have some things to check on in the barn.”
“I can help—”
“Not tonight, Darrow.”
“Right. Of course. Well, thank you for dinner. I had a lovely time. Good night.” She stalked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t follow, and he didn’t.
Once inside, she went straight back to the bedroom and closed the door behind her before her tears began to fall. Had it all been some kind of act to make her feel good? If so, he couldn’t have just continued it until she was safely inside?
God, she felt like such an idiot. There she was, floating on air the whole way home, only to have her bubble burst the minute he turned off the engine of his truck.
She took a shower, crawled into bed, and was about to set the alarm on her phone, but stopped herself. There was no way she could face Quint in the morning, especially if Wren was still under the weather.
He spent enough time trying to convince her that her help wasn’t necessary, she might as well listen and sleep in tomorrow.
EVEN THOUGH SHE woke at dawn the next morning, Darrow didn’t get out of bed. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but after tossing about for over a half-hour, she got up. Quint would be on his way to the barn by then anyway.
She went into the kitchen, determined to have a cup of tea since there’d be no one there judging her for it.
“Good morning,” said Wren when she walked in.
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
“Much, much better. Thanks. I think the salad I ordered at lunch the other day was bad. You were smart to have the soup.”
Darrow looked over at the empty coffee pot. Quint hadn’t left her any? She hadn’t planned to drink it, but still.
“I was thinking we could go into San Antonio today, maybe do some shopping, play tourists, and even stay for dinner. If we don’t feel like driving back, there’s a wonderfu
l little inn right on the river. We could just stay over.”
“Oh. Isn’t there work to be done today?” Or was it just that Quint didn’t want her underfoot and told his sister to get her out of there? She turned her back to Wren, afraid she was about to cry.
“Quint, Decker, and some of the other hands left for Big Bend, so no, we have the day off. The whole weekend, actually.”
“Big Bend?”
“The ranch rodeo. King-Alexander has a team that competes almost every weekend. Quint and Deck compete in team-roping plus some other events. Team roping is their best, though.”
They spent hours and hours talking yesterday and last night, and he hadn’t once mentioned he’d be gone the entire weekend. Hadn’t even thought to the previous night when he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
“San Antonio sounds lovely. Would we have to come back tomorrow or could we stay longer?”
“We can stay as long as you’d like. Quint humors me by letting me help out, but he doesn’t really need me. Half the time, I’m sure Deck is annoyed as hell that I’m around.”
Darrow nodded. She understood completely. Only it wasn’t just Deck who was annoyed by her, Quint was too.
9
“What the hell is your problem?” Deck shouted at Quint.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You’ve never broken a barrier in your life.”
“Big fuckin’ deal, Deck. So I did now. Jesus, it happens all the time.”
“You’ve been a dick all day long. What the hell happened last night?”
“Leave it alone, Decker.”
He and the man giving him a ton of shit at the moment had been best friends since they were kids. Along with managing the ranching part of the operation, Decker was the head of security for King-Alexander. He had as much training in intelligence as Z and Wren did, although in this case, it wouldn’t take a spy to figure out what Quint’s problem was.
“Fine. The guys and I are goin’ to the saloon. You comin’ along, or are you gonna stay here and sulk?”
“Go on ahead and I’ll catch up.”
His friend shook his head and walked away, and Quint was glad for it. He didn’t need anyone else telling him he was off his game. Breaking the barrier wasn’t really that big of a deal. As a roping team, they were penalized ten seconds because Quint went through the rope stretched across the roping box before the steer. Rules were it was supposed to break the barrier first in order to give it a ten-second head start.
Shadow (Military Intelligence Section 6 Book 4) Page 5