Monster (6 page)

-Quinn-

It only took me a few days to get way too used to focusing on Annie all day long, thinking about her all night.

I was obsessed.

When I got a call telling me to show up to my new job at seven the next day, I thought about turning down the job, staying close to Annie, staying home to keep an eye on her.

A thought of my bank account helped me keep my sanity.

I'd be a fucking moron to miss out on a job that paid sixteen bucks an hour.

I showed up first thing, six-thirty, to the job site.

"Hey, Quinn," Hal said.

"Hal," I said, nodding. "Thanks, man. I owe you big for this. What do you want me to do?"

"No worries," he said. "I wasn't bullshitting you, I need someone to supervise these assholes. Speak any Spanish? It'll help."

I shrugged.

"A little," I said. "Not much."

"It's fine, you'll pick it up. They'll pick up more English. You'll figure it out."

"Got it," I said.

"There are too many crew bosses," he said. "Not enough supervision. Things aren't getting done, or they're getting done twice, which is a bullshit waste of their time and my money."

Hal had taken over the construction site from another contractor a few weeks before, after the other contractor had skipped town with the funds the government had given him to buy more materials.

"I don't know much about construction," I admitted. "Only worked on a few sites in high school."

"No problem," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "You're six-foot-five and you were a cop. You walk like a cop, glare like a cop. I don't know how many of these motherfuckers were in on all the bullshit went down here, but I don't need someone who knows how to build a library. I can send foremen over here for that. I need someone who knows how to keep these sons of bitches from stealing all my shit out from under me and make them do some goddamn work or get off the site."

"I think I can do that," I said with a smile. "Can I knock heads together?"

"If you think it'll help," he said. "I don't care what the fuck you do. I have two other projects and I'm spread thin. I wouldn't normally take on a project like this without enough of my own crew to do all of it, but shit, I couldn't tell them no, could I?"

"Nope," I said. My smile turned into a full-fledged grin.

Hal's wife Sarah was a librarian. She'd have to work in the building they put together. Hal couldn't tell her no for anything.

"So, it's Owen's job to turn this heap of bricks into a building. It's your job to keep men working. It's my job to make sure I squeak out a profit on this job. Got it?"

"Got it," I said.

I had to admit, the job was right up my alley.

Hard, physical work, but no paperwork. Decent pay. Hal even said I'd get benefits in thirty days instead of ninety.

I'd helped him out once when Sarah got carjacked, and we'd become friends. He felt like he owed me for protecting his wife, no matter how many times I told him I was just doing my job.

My pride wasn't worth turning down a plum job, so when he called me up and asked me if he could hire me, I asked when I could start.

I plunged right into work after Owen showed me around the site. No matter what Hal said, I knew I was going to take every chance to learn the actual construction side of it that I could get.

The lazy fuckers who were just showing up for an easy paycheck would melt away after a few weeks of real work.

I needed to be sure Hal would have a reason to keep me on. It was a good job, good pay.

Not the work I wanted to do, but that wasn't his fault. It was mine. If I hadn't been so fucking cocky, I would still be wearing my blue uniform.

Enough.

No goddamn point in punishing myself for shit that was over and done with.

I fucked up, gotta take the consequences like a man.

Twelve hours on a job site wore me out more than I expected, though. I thought chasing Dragon around was hard work - fuck me, no wonder even Hal was jacked.

I called up my gym that night and canceled the membership. Even if I didn't work for Hal forever, it was hard to see the goddamn point of spending money to stay fit when I could just pick up an extra shift at someone's site and get paid to work my ass off.

It didn't take me long to see that Hal wasn't bullshitting me. It wasn't a pity-job. The old contractors really had hired the biggest crew of lazy petty criminals I'd seen outside a fucking drunk tank.

I took away and poured out about five gallons of vodka.

One guy, I had to take by the shoulder and shake like a dog shakes a rat until he stuck his hand in his pocket and gave back the tool I'd seen him palm.

When I passed it to Owen, he told me that it was worth about fifty bucks.

Any asshole who tried to sell it would probably get no more than about twelve bucks for it from a pawn shop. If guys were screwing over Hal for that little, I wondered why he bothered having them on his crew at all.

Even late work would be better than that, to my way of thinking.

The Hispanic guys were actually the easiest to deal with, once I found someone who could speak English as well as Spanish. A few of them seemed like bad eggs, but most of them were just waiting for some direction.

Once they got it, they set to it. Seemed self-policing, too.

One guy tried to palm a length of copper pipe to sell, another two took it from him and dragged him off the site.

I tried not to laugh as they kicked him right in the ass.

"They think they'll get in trouble if one of them steals it," Juan said. "They can't lose the job. Old foreman, he'd just kick the whole crew out for the day with no pay."

I winced.

"Asshole," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "Worked out pretty good, though. None of us has taken shit, it's all the white guys.”

At the end of the day, it was my job to pay the day workers. I hadn't held that much cash since I busted a meth cook who'd just sold off a full batch.

I found my thoughts straying to Annie more and more as I headed home.

The idea of her lips, soft and sweet, against my own made parts of my body sit up and take notice. Even a hard day's work couldn't keep my cock down. Not even when all my muscles ached.

As I walked up to the front steps, I couldn't help but cast an eye to her door.

I wasn't obsessed, or anything, but it was okay to be curious about your neighbor.

Particularly your neighbor with big blue eyes and hips with a sway that could make a man lose his goddamn mind.

"Hey," Annie said, coming up behind me.

"Hey," I said, turning around, a little startled. I wondered if she'd notice that I was half-hard in my jeans. If she did, would she realize it was all for her?

"Long day?" she asked. "You look pretty done in."

I treated her to my best smile, one that promised to deliver any sort of pleasure the woman I turned it on could name.

"Not quite long enough," I said. "Do you have any plans this evening?"

She shot me a wary look.

I had to be careful. This wasn't a woman I could just tumble into my bed with a wink. She made that pretty damn clear without saying a word.

"I'm celebrating," I said, lifting the bags I picked up at the grocery store on my way home. "First day of work. Bought that cider you were drinking last time. Join me on the porch?"

"You got a job!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you! Come on in and have dinner with me in a few minutes."

I paused.

"You mean it?" I asked.

She looked a little flustered, as if the invitation had slipped out without her really intending it, but I couldn't help but accept. No way I was going to pass up any chance to spend time with her, particularly not in her house.

"Yes, of course," she said, giving me a winning smile. "Do you eat pasta? Anything you don't eat?"

"I eat everything," I said.

It was true. I didn't have a lot of patience with people who wouldn't eat what was served to them, unless they'd be puking their guts up for days.

"Good," she said. "Well. I've gotta get dinner started. I'm sure you want a few minutes to yourself after work. Maybe come over in half an hour?"

"I can't wait," I promised.

She nodded, and I headed inside, to strip my clothing off and toss it at the hamper. If I were going to have dinner with the lovely Annie, I needed a change.

As I caught a whiff of myself, I grinned.

I needed a change, and I needed a shower.

As I stepped naked into the warm spray, my dick was half-hard against my thigh.

It occurred to me to take the edge off, jack off in the shower so I wasn't so painfully desperate when I sat alone in her house.

Only one thought stopped me from doing just that, coming in the shower to the thought of Annie's amazing curves.

Maybe I could get her to help me out with my problem.

-Annie-

What in the world had I been thinking?

Clearly, I wasn't thinking at all.

Inviting Quinn over to dinner made no sense. He was just my neighbor. Pleasant to sit on a porch and drink with. No other connection. No reason to get to know him.

Maybe Carol was right - about me being lonely, not about me needing to get laid.

Those were two very different things, after all.

I could prove it, by having a nice dinner with Quinn Markham and not seducing him... or letting him seduce me.

Stepping into my house with Urso, I took a look around and winced.

It was clean enough for Heather to drop by. More than. Heather had seen me at my worse and wouldn't even notice, say, an empty mug of cocoa on the coffee table.

Not clean enough to have someone over for the first time.

If I didn't clean up a bit, I'd be being a bad hostess, I told myself firmly. No other reason. It didn't truly matter what Quinn thought of me or my apartment, but cleaning up would be the polite thing to do for any guest in my home.

I got water on to boil and then spent three minutes picking up all the random crap I'd thrown around the public part of the house.

I did not clean up my bedroom at all. Not even a little. I did not allow myself to so much as walk up the stairs.

That man would not be seeing my bedroom, no matter how attractive he was.

When I was done, I put my hands on my hips, looking over the space like a stranger would. It was a surprisingly modern-looking layout for an old farmhouse, even one converted to apartments. A pleasant, sunny entry led onto a living room, with an extra-wide doorway onto the combined dining room and kitchen.

A doorway off the kitchen led to a small hallway that gave access to the bathroom, laundry room, and stairway. There was another door off the living room that led to the small bedroom I used as my office.

Upstairs was a second bathroom and two more bedrooms.

Way more space than one person needed, but I'd fallen in love with the property and gotten a good deal.

Besides, before all the business with the Blue Ridge Killer started up, I was making a good bit every month renting out the upstairs guest room on AirBnB.

Women alone were coming to the area less, and I wasn't comfortable any more letting strange men stay overnight in my house, even with Urso sleeping at the foot of my bed.

Not for the first time, I thought about Quinn's suggestion that I get a gun.

It didn't sound as terrible as it would have a year ago.

Enough of that.

I headed back to the kitchen, pulling out some ground beef and a can of tomatoes to start making a fresh marinara sauce.

When Quinn knocked at the door, the whole house smelled like oregano and onions.

"That smells amazing," he said as I opened the door. "Glad I'm gonna get to eat it and it's not just a tease."

The smile that he flashed me was way too knowing.

He'd changed from his work jeans and a dirty t-shirt into... okay, into clean jeans and a clean t-shirt. Not a hell of a lot different, but damn, did he know how to pick a shirt. It was tight enough to show off his broad shoulders and strong arms, but not painted on. Just loose enough to leave something to the imagination, make me want to lift it up to find out more.

He had to be the type of guy who would have me bent over the couch with his cock inside me before I could blink. A smile like that promised he would.

Not that that would be the worst thing in the world.

I hoped the blush I could feel wasn't showing, or that he wouldn't notice.

"So, pasta!" I said.

It was time to get to safer territory.

I led him to the kitchen, getting him sitting down at my table before I could find myself pressed up against his body, letting him claim my lips- no.

There would be no kissing.

Only a pasta dinner and nice conversation with a neighbor.

I was determined that that would be it.

He was a good dinner partner, damn him. Had interesting stories about the police force and about growing up a county over.

He made me laugh out loud.

I wondered how long it had been since I'd been alone with a man who made me laugh.

Too long.

I found myself balling up my napkin in my lap and then smoothing it against my thigh, I was so nervous to be around him. Not afraid of him - afraid of what I would do.

"Do you always cook like this?" he asked, taking a last bite of the simple pasta with red sauce that I'd cooked for him. For myself. For us.

"A few times a week," I said. "I live on leftovers a lot. Cooking for one is hard."

"I know it," he said. "Two is a lot easier."

'A lot easier for what?' I wanted to ask, but I kept my mouth shut on the question. I didn't need to encourage the man, and his long looks and green eyes and way of making me laugh.

"Do you cook?" I asked.

"Some," he said. "Not my best thing, but I can make a few basic dishes."

"Bachelor food?" I teased.

He grinned, shaking his head.

"I, uh, actually just got out of a relationship. Cynthia. She wasn't the cooking type. We lived on take-out and whatever I fixed," he said.

"Oh, man," I said.

Poor bastard.

Lost his job, lost his girlfriend, moved to a new place. Had to feel pretty damn low.

I wasn't the woman who would cheer him up, but I had no doubt that there would be a dozen anywhere he looked who would fight for the honor. He really was one of the most attractive men I'd ever seen in my life.

"Yeah," he said. "So it goes. I'm not surprised."

"Why not?" I blurted out. "I am."

He grinned at me and raised his eyebrows. I felt my face go flame-red. Was my attraction to him that obvious?

"It was an... experiment. I don't think I'm the type to settle down. I don't know why I tried. Always ends in heartache and hangovers."

"Not always," I said.

"Oh, are you seeing anyone?" he asked.

I didn't want to rise to his bait, but I shook my head.

“So, do you have any proof?” he asked.

“I know people who are happily married,” I said.

“You know people you say are happily married,” he said. “Not proof enough. Not worth the risk. Even if there are a few couples it works out for… outliers.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So, you're what, the opposite of a hopeless romantic?” I asked him.

“Sure, if that's what you wanna call it,” he said. “A hopeless unromantic. Sounds about right.”

“You mean you don't need anybody, don't want anyone in your life?” I asked.

I was aware that I was starting to sound uncomfortably like Carol. Except I was pressing him to admit marriage might be okay, not telling him to just get laid.

“I didn't say that at all,” he said, with a smile that was downright lewd.

Downright sexy.

Downright dangerous.

“I find human contact very… invigorating,” he said. “I need it. Especially a woman's touch. Sex has nothing to do with love and marriage, with settling it down.”

I tried to pretend I wasn't blushing.

Again.

Goddamnit.

It was so embarrassing, being this pale.

“Don't blush,” he said. “We're talking about the same thing. Just different words.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “It's not my fault, I was born like this. I'm no prude, but my skin seems to disagree.”

“I like the blushing,” he said. “It's quite… pretty.”

Damn, damn, damn.

I couldn't pretend he was just a flirty guy keeping in the habit any more. He was definitely flirting with me.

“So, you think sex has nothing to do with settling down?” I asked.

“Well,” he said. “Yeah. You can have a lot of sex without getting married… and I hear a lot of married men bitching about not getting any any more.”

“Maybe they let themselves go," I pointed out. "It's hard to keep the passion alive when your husband weighs sixty pounds more than when you tied the knot."

He grinned at me. Again. That infuriating man.

"You speak with authority," he said. His green eyes sparkled as he teased me. "Have you ever been married?"

"No way," I said. "That doesn't mean I can't watch people, talk to married women, does it?"

"Of course not," he said.

"Good," I said.

"Have you ever had sex?" he asked.

I was sure I was turning bright red again. He was smirking, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to slap the look off his face or kiss it off.

"Well... yes," I said.

"And where is the guy?" he asked. "No deathless romance? I thought that marriage was-"

"Stop twisting my words," I ground out. "I said, very specifically, that relationships do not always end in heartache. That's very different from saying that sex should only happen in the context of a fairy tale, death-do-us-part relationship."

"So, it's okay for you to have sex without getting married, but not for me?"

"Goddamnit, Quinn," I said. Something about the man had me losing a temper I didn't know that I had. He inspired more passion in me than any other man I'd ever met. "All I meant is that marriage is one option and not always deeply terrible. Maybe even for you. Not that you have to get married and have dozens of children. Just go sleep your way around the state. Get your dick wet and never call. Knock yourself the fuck out."

He looked satisfied, as if he'd scored some sort of point by riling me up.

"I think I just might," he said. "Here's what I promise: In the deeply unlikely event I ever get married, I'll send you an engraved invitation so you can bear witness to the miracle."

"Thanks," I said, dryly.

I was surprised to feel a pang at the thought of Quinn marrying some faceless woman. She'd probably be tall and pretty. That sort of effortless beauty that men fall all over themselves for and I'd never been able to master. A patient mother.

Nothing like me, basically.

"Do you think premarital sex is wrong?" he asked, bluntly, with a challenge in his sparkling emerald eyes.

"No," I said. "I'm not some prude. I think marriage is an option, just not for you. Or me, probably."

"Why not?" he asked, a look of genuine surprise on his face.

I shrugged.