“She already got it, man.”
To Mick’s relief, he caught Quinn in the parking lot, leaning against her car, her thumbs moving furiously over the screen of her phone. When she saw him, she grimaced.
He lifted his hands and stayed out of her personal space. “Thought you could use a ride back to the B and B,” he said.
“I’m not driving.” She lifted her phone. “I’m trying to get an Uber.”
He smiled. “How’s that going?”
She sighed and slipped her phone into her pocket. “So Wildstone doesn’t have drive-throughs, Thai takeout, or Uber? Seriously?”
“We have other things.”
“Yes,” she said. “Ghosts. Big bugs. Cute dogs. And girlfriends, apparently.”
“Lena’s not my girlfriend,” he said. “She’s Boomer’s. Sort of.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated.”
She didn’t take her eyes off him. “But you’ve slept together.”
He arched a brow.
“I’m sorry,” she said, closing her eyes. “That was rude. There’s a chemistry there, and a familiarity, that’s all. You know what? Don’t listen to me. My tongue’s running the show and I think I’m just jealous at how everyone else seems to take life’s shit in stride and keep going. I haven’t learned that trick and I need to. And how to keep going, that is. Like the Energizer Bunny. Or my electric toothbrush. God.” She pressed her hands to her face. “I really need to stop talking. Make me stop talking!”
He took her hand and tugged her to his truck.
“Wait,” she said, putting a hand to his chest and fisting it in his shirt to hold him to her. “You’re not a murderer or a rapist or anything like that, right?”
He lifted a hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you a Boy Scout?”
Laughing a little at that because he’d been just about the furthest thing from a Boy Scout, he gently pushed her into the passenger seat and leaned in to buckle her seat belt, and suddenly their faces were an inch from each other. He heard her suck in a breath and he did the same.
Talk about chemistry.
“Mick?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Are you feeling something?”
“You could say that,” he murmured. “You?”
She licked her lips and he nearly groaned. “I think so,” she whispered.
“That’s good.”
“Are you going to kiss me?”
He cupped her face, let his thumbs trace her jawbone, his fingers sinking into her silky waves. “No,” he said quietly. “And not because I don’t want to, but because when I do, I want to know you’re ready. That you’ll feel it.”
She sighed. “Guys do whatever they want all the time, no emotions necessary. I want that skill.” Another shaky breath escaped her, and since they were literally an inch apart, they shared air for a single heartbeat during which neither of them moved.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Okay, so I’m definitely feeling things.” She hesitated and then her hands came up to his chest. “Maybe we should test it out to be sure.”
God, she was the sweetest temptation he’d ever met, and he wanted nothing more than to cover her mouth with his. Instead, he brushed his mouth to her cheek.
“Please, Mick,” she whispered, her exhale warming his throat. He loved the “please,” and he wanted to do just that more than anything. But when she tried to turn her head into his, to line up their mouths, he gently tightened his grip, dragging his mouth along her smooth skin instead, making his way to her ear.
“Not yet,” he whispered, letting his lips brush over her earlobe and the sensitive skin beneath it.
She moaned and clutched him. “Why not?”
It took every ounce of control he had to lift his head and meet her gaze. “Because I want to make sure you’re really with me, that you’re feeling everything I’m feeling. That there’ll be no doubt, no regrets.”
“You sure have a lot of requirements.”
He laughed. And she was right, it was all big talk for a guy who didn’t do relationships anymore. Still, he forced himself to step back and shut the passenger door.
As he rounded the hood to the driver’s side, he tried to remind himself of all the reasons she was a bad idea. He lived two hundred miles away and he was hoping to move his mom up by him and never come back here. Not to mention that Quinn lived an equal two hundred miles in the opposite direction and she was in a deeply vulnerable place. No way would he even think about taking advantage of that.
But when he slid behind the wheel and their eyes locked, he realized that while his mind could stand firm, the rest of his body wasn’t on board with the in-control program.
Chapter 10
Olympic events I could compete in:
-Extreme lurking
-Marathon sleeping
-Rhythmic eating
-Freeestyle complaining
—from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”
The drive to the B & B was quiet but not uncomfortable. In fact, Quinn felt a flash of disappointment that the evening was over as soon as she and Mick got out. Being back meant facing her hot mess of a life and she wasn’t ready. So she stood still and tipped her head to take in the view.
She wasn’t sure what was happening to her. Maybe the domino effects of Carolyn’s dying had kick-started her emotions again, at least the simple ones like lust and anger and frustration.
But things like sadness and grief and love . . . those she’d shoved so deep she didn’t know how to access them anymore.
Basically, she was an emotional idiot.
She distracted herself from that knowledge with the scenery. Wildstone at night was an experience. There were no streetlights. No billboards, and with the exception of the bar, the sidewalks apparently rolled up at eight o’clock. There was nothing to detract from the inky night shining with the brilliance of so many stars it looked like a velvet blanket scattered with diamonds.
“It’s . . . wow,” she breathed as wind rustled through the trees, crickets doing their song and dance, and she thought maybe she could also hear the distant sound of the tide pounding the shore. When she inhaled deeply, it smelled like one of those woodsy outdoor candles she loved. “Wildstone at night is incredible.”
Mick took her hand in his and let out a low laugh, his head tipped back as well. “Yeah. I guess I forget what it’s like.”
“How?” she asked, awed. “How can you forget?”
He shook his head, making her even more curious.
“How long since you moved away?” she asked.
“I left after I graduated from high school and didn’t come back much until four months ago.”
When his dad had died. She turned and took in his profile. He was good, he didn’t give much away. The tall stance, the broad shoulders capable of holding the weight of mountains . . . he could hide in plain sight. “Do you miss him?”
He let out a low, mirthless laugh and met her gaze. “We didn’t do well together. But I miss him for my mom. She loved that heartless bastard.” He led her toward her room. With the open hallways empty, it felt like they were alone on the planet as they walked, and at her door she turned to him.