Coop gave one happy bark, excited at the possibility of a wrestle session. Mick reached back and opened the car door. The dog hopped out, happily loping along the bluffs, nose down, taking in all the scents.
“He won’t wander off?” Quinn asked, worriedly watching him go.
He cupped her face and turned it back to his. “Not even if I wanted him to. Where were we?”
She smiled and wiggled a little bit, causing him to groan. He slipped his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth down to his.
Sweet turned to scorching when she melted against him. It awed him, and it turned him on like nothing else, and he knew he was going to take what she was willingly giving him, keep her for as long as she allowed, and maybe, if his luck held, it’d be a long time before she wrenched his heart out and walked away.
He slid one hand up her shirt, the other in her pants, and she whispered his name, her voice a breathy, desperate whisper. The tension in her changed when he found the right spot and he felt her go utterly still, like she didn’t want to misdirect or distract him. But he could read her like he could his own soul. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she needed. “I’ve got you, Quinn.”
She clung to him, a few wayward strands of hair slipping into her face, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she came apart. After, she sagged against him, nestling in close, and he savored that, wondering, as he always did, if this time would be their last.
Then she lifted her head with a smile and met his gaze as she ran her fingers down his chest, pushing up the hem of his T-shirt to open his jeans. A minute later she had him in her hot little hands and he knew he wasn’t going to last all that long when his phone, which had slipped out of his pocket and landed on the seat at his thigh, went off with an incoming text.
The screen ID said: MOM. He closed his eyes and felt Quinn’s silky hair brush over his abs.
“I think your mom’s—”
“Ignore it,” he said, his hand gently fisting in her hair.
She dropped to her knees between his and had her mouth just below his belly button, heading for his favorite body part when his phone went off again—a call this time.
Quinn’s soft exhale brushed over him and he groaned.
“Maybe it’s important,” she whispered.
He blew out another breath, and eyes still locked on Quinn’s, he picked up the phone. “Everything okay?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.
“Well, what kind of a hello is that?” his mom asked. “Of course I’m all right, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Is it Wendy?” he asked. “Have you heard from her?”
“Actually, yes. She’s still in New York and she says she’s doing great and that she’ll return your texts and calls soon.”
Uh-huh. More like she’ll do so when she ran out of money . . .
“But that’s not why I’m calling,” his mom said. “I need you to come over.”
“I can be there later tonight—”
“I was hoping for now, honey. What’s got you so busy you don’t have any time for me?”
“Mom.” Mick let out a low laugh and rubbed his forehead. “I’m . . .” He met Quinn’s still languorous, still hungry expression. “Busy.”
“Well, get unbusy and hurry,” she said and disconnected.
He stared at his phone.
“She okay?” Quinn asked.
“She needs my help with something.” He paused. “She hung up on me. She’s never hung up on me.”
“Does she live close by?”
“Yes, actually, only a few miles from here.”
Quinn sat up, and to his sexual frustration, climbed back into the passenger seat and put herself back together. “Let’s go make sure she’s okay.”
“We?”
She looked at him. “Well, you’re already almost there, right? I can wait in the car, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She thought he didn’t want her to go. Which was more than a little true, but not for the reason she believed. His mom didn’t have much of an inner filter and he held no illusions of even trying to control the things she might say. “It’s fine.” He started the car and opened the door to whistle for Coop.
When they pulled up to his mom’s house a few minutes later, she was sitting on the porch in one of the two chairs. The other chair was filled by . . .
Lena.
And to think he’d been worried about what his mom might say. He parked and just looked at the porch.
“What’s going on?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. But he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. He got out of the car and was grateful for small favors when Quinn didn’t follow.
He walked up to the house and looked at Lena and then his mom. “What’s up?”
Lena stood up. “I asked your mom to call you out here so we could talk. About us.”
“Lena, there is no us.”
“But there could be an us,” she said. “I know it. Your mom knows it. The whole town knows it—”
“Lena.” Christ. He didn’t want to be doing this, but he especially didn’t want to be doing this with Quinn right there. Were his car windows down? Yeah, perfect. They were. And then there was his mom sitting there soaking up every little thing, hopeful, eternally hopeful, for grandchildren.
“I just don’t know where we went wrong,” Lena said.
He snorted and turned back to his car but Lena ran down the steps and put her hand on his arm.
“Stop this,” he said quietly, for her ears only. “Before I say something that hurts and embarrasses you. What we had when we were kids is long over and you know it. You also know why.”
“I apologized for that,” she said. “It should be like a juvenile court record—expunged.”
“I agree, and I’ve forgiven you if that’s what you’re looking for. But we were kids and I no longer—”
“Don’t say you don’t have feelings for me, Mick. I can feel that you do. I’ll show you.” She went up on tiptoe and brushed her mouth across his.
Two things happened simultaneously. One, Mick took a step back. Two, a truck pulled up. And before Mick knew it, he was being cold-cocked right in the jaw.
He hit the ground and blinked up at a furious Boomer bending over him. “What the—”
“Get up, you two-timing hypocrite,” Boomer snarled and then dove on him.
They rolled in the dirt. Mick got a good shot in before they were stopped by two blurs who came from opposite sides to pull them apart.
Quinn and Lena.
Quinn put her hands on Mick’s chest. “You good?”
He swiped at his bloody lip. “Yeah.”
She pushed his hair from his forehead, looked him over, and then nodded.
Lena was faced off with Boomer, hands on her hips. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Boomer swiped at his own bloody lip. “What do you think?”
Lena stared at him. “You dumped me, remember?”
“I said you needed to make some changes. I didn’t mean to go after your damn ex and my best friend! Jesus, Lena.”
“You need to make up your damn mind,” she said.
“Don’t you mean you need to make up your damn mind?” Boomer demanded incredulously.
“You’re both insane,” Mick said.
Boomer gave him a long, considering look and Mick gave it right back to him. He was pissed enough to go another round, no problem.
But then Quinn gave him a shove in his chest much in the same way Lena did with Boomer. In fact, Lena pushed Boomer toward his truck. “Go,” she said.