When she’d first assumed that on day one—four days ago now—he’d been amused. And intrigued. And then, let’s face it, turned on by the bossy, cute, sexy woman sticking her head out her window, asking so sweetly if he could fix her shit.
The fact was, she’d been a welcome distraction from the hell he was in, being back in the town he hadn’t been able to escape fast enough, having to deal with the mess his dad had left behind.
His problem, not hers.
And so was the fact that he’d misled her, no matter how unintentionally. Not that this mattered if this was truly just the “fun” she said she needed his help with, but he was beginning to get to know her now, and he also knew himself. Yeah, it was fun, a hell of a lot of fun. And the sex had been off the charts, but . . . it had also been more.
He’d just tell her the truth, that was all. He’d say: So, by the way, funny story—I’m actually a structural engineer from the Bay Area, staying at this B and B, same as you, since it’s the closest to my mom’s house, where I really am a handyman.
Just not a paid one.
Yep, he’d tell her the minute she woke up. She had a good sense of humor, it would be fine.
Coop lifted his head and yawned. And also farted. The dog jerked his head around and stared at his own ass in shock, even though this happened every day.
“Dude,” Mick said and Coop sighed. Slowly, so slowly he might’ve been moving backward, he slid off the bed and plopped to the floor, like Mick had insulted him to the marrow.
Unable to help himself, Mick stroked a hand down Quinn’s back and palmed her sweet ass. She stirred and stretched, and then froze for a beat before lifting her head.
Her face was adorably sleepy looking, her hair a wild, rioted mass of waves all over the place. She blinked once, slow as an owl, taking in their positions. “Forgot to warn you that I’m a bed hog,” she murmured. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He paused. “Quinn.”
“Uh-oh,” she said, her eyes clearing a little bit. “That’s a very serious tone.” And this time when she tried to pull free, he let her. She sat up, tugging the sheet with her and stared down at him. “If you’re going to tell me you’ve changed your mind about regrets, just keep it to yourself—”
“I’m an engineer,” he said. “I run a structural engineering firm with three other partners in the Bay Area.”
She stared at him. “What?”
He reached for her, but she scooted back. “Wait,” she said, holding him off. “You told me you were the B and B maintenance guy. You lied to me?”
At her tone, Coop gave a low, worried “wuff.”
“It’s okay,” Mick told him. “And no,” he said to Quinn. “I didn’t lie to you. I never said I was the B and B maintenance guy.”
“Yes you did.” She stared at him some more, thinking so hard her ears were smoking. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re right, you didn’t. I just assumed. And you let me.” She scrambled off the bed, snatching the entire sheet as she did, wrapping it around herself like she was cold.
Or needed armor.
In any case, it left Mick bare-ass naked on the bed. He sat up and opened his mouth but she whirled on him, pointing a finger in his direction. “Why did you let me assume that?”
“A hot woman asks me for help?” he asked. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have refused you. And to be clear, even if you weren’t hot, I wouldn’t have refused you.”
She just narrowed her eyes. “That’s your defense?”
“Well, you’ve got to admit,” he said, “it’s a little funny. Though the joke’s really on me because I had no idea what I was doing under that sink, I just got lucky.”
“It’s still dripping,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, see, my dad would’ve loved that. It proves him right, that I never listened. He tried to teach me everything he knew.” He let out a low laugh. “And hey, it made me think of him fondly, which is a rarity, so that’s actually a favor you did me.”
“This isn’t a joke, Mick.” She closed her eyes. “Why were you always parked right out in front of the office, like you belong there?”
“Because besides staying here, I’m working with the owner, who wants to sell this place and lease it back.”
She was holding tightly to the sheet. Coop moved close and leaned on her. She crouched down and hugged the dog. “What is it with my life?” she asked Coop. “Why is lying and deceiving me some kind of new trend? Or is it just that everyone thinks they can decide for me what I need to know and what I don’t?”
Coop licked her chin in commiseration.
Understanding her reaction now, and also feeling like a complete asshole, Mick got out of the bed. “It wasn’t like that, Quinn.”
“No,” she said quickly, holding up a hand to ward him off. She took another step back and caught her foot in the sheet.
Before she could go down, he caught her, all soft, warm curves he’d been hoping to get another taste of this morning, but she broke free. Sending him a scalding glance over her bare shoulder, she turned to look for her clothes, grabbing pieces as she came to them, yanking them on.
“Wuff,” Coop said, clearly deeply concerned.
Quinn gave the dog another quick, soothing hug that Mick wished she’d bestow on him. Instead, she leveled him with a withering stare. “To be clear, this, between us, was just—” She jabbed a finger at the bed. “That. And it’s done now. I’m done. We’re done.” Her phone rang and she snatched it up. “Hello.” She paused, listening, giving him a moment to appreciate that she’d gotten her jeans up but not fastened, and her top only halfway on before she’d frozen in place. “You’re kidding me.” Another pause. “Oh for God’s sake, yes, I’m coming.” She disconnected, shoved the phone into her pocket, and to his disconcertion, finished dressing in two seconds, muttering something about “those effing chickens are going to effing kill me.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling on his clothes as well.
“My life.”
“Quinn—”
She shoved her feet into her shoes. “The hens made a run for it.”
“The what?”
“I know, right? But maybe they’ve got the right idea, running like hell.” And then she was gone, slamming out of her own room.
Coop’s expression said, I can’t believe how stupid you are.
A fact Mick had to agree with.
IN TILLY’S WORLD, she was the caregiver. She’d taken care of her mom. The house. Her friends. Chuck. It was what she did.
She’d been taking care of her mom’s chickens for years on top of everything else and she’d never once left the pen open. And she wouldn’t have done it that morning either except Chuck’s silly girlfriend had a silly hissy fit when Tilly had eaten the last two eggs—like there weren’t more out back.
So Tilly had dragged herself out of bed half an hour before her usual time to stop the fighting that was coming through the thin walls.
“I didn’t sign up for a teenager, Chuck!”
“She’s a good kid. A really good kid.”
“To you, maybe. But if it’s not you, she’s sullen as hell, and I think she stole a twenty from my wallet.”