Her mood plummeted. “Not you, too.”
“Oh, I’m not the only one who thinks you need to move on? I wonder why. Maybe it’s because you’re stuck.”
Lori set her jaw. “I like Tumble Creek. It’s a great place.
You
came back here.”
“It is a great place. I know you love it. So do I. But you had dreams once upon a time. Goals that had nothing to do with Tumble Creek. You were going to Europe, weren’t you? You planned to travel the world. I remember, because in high school it sounded kind of scary to me.”
“Plans change,” Lori muttered. “Life goes on.”
Molly crossed her arms and eyed her intently. “Oh, really? Is your life going on? Because it looks like you’re standing in place. Sell the damn garage, sell your dad’s land and get the hell out of Dodge.”
“I can’t get rid of the garage.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t want to talk about this, damn it. Talking didn’t do any good, it only made the truth more inescapable. But Molly didn’t look as though she would budge on the issue. Fine. “It’s not that simple, all right? The damn garage isn’t worth that much, and once I need to sell it, it’s worth even less. The old dump out back is probably a fucking Superfund site, because I’m pretty sure there was no oil recycling program when my grandfather opened this place. They certainly didn’t bother sending the old tires away. Anyone who bought it would want it cleaned up first, because the grandfather clause ends once it’s sold. Shit, it would probably cost me money to get out of here!”
Molly blinked. “Oh. I didn’t know.”
“And I can sell my dad’s land, but with all the damn bills, it won’t bring in enough to make much of a difference, so what’s the point of getting rid of something that made him so happy?”
Lori felt a warm hand close around hers and realized she’d closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Molly whispered.
Shaking her head, she swallowed hard. “Hey, I’ve got a house and a job and a tow truck, right? That’s more than some people ever have. In fact, some people leave everything they know to come to this country and have a life like mine. There’s no reason to feel sorry for myself.”
Molly’s hand squeezed hers.
“And I’m good at what I do, so fuck it.”
“Yeah,” Molly echoed. “Fuck it.”
Lori raised her drink to that, and set it back on the counter empty.
“Let’s get one more round,” Molly suggested. “And talk about something else, huh?”
She had to nod, because she was afraid she’d start crying if she opened her mouth. She was stuck and going nowhere. Her life was complete shit, and she was
still
afraid to throw it away and start all over. She wasn’t eighteen anymore. She just couldn’t do it.
Molly squeezed again. “I didn’t mean to make you into one of those sad, drunk women who sits at the bar and weeps into her drink until she passes out.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, maybe Quinn could get you a discount on a new door. He knows lots of suppliers and contractors.”
“I haven’t told him.”
“What? Why not?”
Lori sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to argue about it. That man’s got a nasty temper.”
“Uh…what?”
“Your brother. He’s just like your dad when he gets mad. Blustery and—”
“You’re kidding, right? My brother is one of the most laid-back guys around.
Some
might even say removed.”
“Well, not with me. We get in an argument every time we see each other. It’s ridiculous.” And hot.
Juan approached, wiping his hands on a towel, biceps flexing. He’d lost weight since he’d begun dating Helen and was starting to look more like the star football player he’d been in high school. But his smile still looked like a happy five-year-old’s. “Another drink, ladies?”
“Just one,” Lori said, then added, “I mean one for each of us, of course. Let’s not be ridiculous.”
“Got it.”
Lori glanced over at Molly, and her smile froze. Molly’s mouth was hanging open, her eyes glued to Lori’s face. “What?”
Molly shook her head and then blurted, “Quinn is totally falling in love with you!”
“What?”
She leaned forward and rested both hands on Lori’s knees. “Quinn doesn’t argue with anybody. He’s too caught up in his own thoughts to get involved in the problems of mere mortals. But he argues with you
all the time?
He’s falling for you, Lori.”
“No! Are you insane? He’s not my boyfriend. We’re not even dating.”
Molly blew a disgusted sigh past her lips. “Use your brain. You read romance novels all the time. What are the most obvious signs of true love? Drama! Arguments! Tension!”
“Those are also the most obvious signs of domestic abuse. Those books are fiction, which you should know since you write them.” Lori tried her best to beat down the shocked panic bubbling up in her chest. “We have chemistry, all right? It’s the sexual tension making us fight. Quinn is
not
in love with me.”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re not dating. It’s sex. Just sex. I’m using your brother for his body and that is
it.
He absolutely understands that.”
Molly squinted. “This is so weird. I feel like Bambi just morphed into a raging nymphomaniac.”
“Well, Bambi was a boy, so I’m not sure what you’re trying to say—”
“Bambi was a boy?”
“I think so. Didn’t he grow up to be king of the forest or something?”
“Huh.” Molly shrugged.
“Anyway…”
The fluttery pain had finally left her chest, thank God. “I’ve only been seeing him for a few days. There is nothing deep going on. So let’s drop it.”
Molly dropped it and only gave Lori a few pointed looks through the next hour.
The idea turned out to be sticky, however, and kept clinging to Lori’s mind despite its utter ridiculousness. She had to forcibly pry it off, but finally succeeded at about one in the morning when she drifted off to sleep.
She’d never seen his face, had no idea who he was, and his anonymity only made this wickedness sweeter. Nervousness drove her blood harder against her throbbing clit, and Caroline moaned.
He shifted in his seat, drawing Lori’s eye. She smiled. “So tell me what you were working on today.”
Quinn cringed. “Did I mention how sorry I was about being late?”
“Yes, and I believe I mentioned that I knew you’d be late, so it’s no big deal. Heck, I wasn’t even going to call for another ten minutes, so you beat expectations.”
“Sorry. I was actually ready too early, so I sat down to look over some plans and…Well.”
“It’s not a problem.” She laughed. “Quinn, you were like that in
junior high,
for God’s sake. I’m not taking it personally.”
“I don’t want you to think you weren’t on my mind or—”
She put a hand on his thigh and effectively shut him up. He stopped worrying about his tardiness and started wondering if her hand was going to slide a little higher. He had a one-track mind after all, and architecture had been run off the rails the moment Lori Love had opened her door and smiled at him. Sex with Lori was currently the only engine building up steam.
Her blue dress was even more lovely than he remembered, probably because he knew he’d be unzipping it later, letting it fall, exposing her smooth, snowy skin. Was she naked under there? Or was she wearing a pair of demure white panties like she’d been wearing the first time they’d had sex? If she was, Quinn thought maybe he’d tie her up before removing them, leave her looking innocent and sweet as he stretched her out on the bed.
Oh, crap, he had to stop thinking like that. His dick had jumped past pleasantly interested to throbbing. The little circles she was drawing against his thigh weren’t helping, either. Her hand slid higher.
“Lori—”
“My, my,” she purred as her touch slipped sizzling heat against his erection. “What do we have here?”
“Don’t encourage me,” he ground out.
She laughed, the husky sound like shot silk against his skin. “Oh, but it’s fun. What are you thinking about over there?” She traced his cock, sending bright shocks through his gut.
Quinn pulled into an empty space on the street, thinking bitterly of the underground parking garage on the other side of town. If he were parked there, he’d happily show her exactly what he was thinking of, with only a small chance of being arrested.
Throwing the car into Park, Quinn turned to face the woman torturing him. “I was thinking that after the party, I’d take you back to my place. I have a whole drawer full of ties, and I understand they’re quite effective at keeping wicked girls like you under control.”
She blinked and yanked her hand back to press it flat to her chest. “What?”
“I thought I’d use one to tie your wrists and maybe one to cover your eyes. As for the others…”
Her face paled, all the blood migrating to two high spots on her cheeks.
“I guess you’ll find out.” He smiled at the utter shock on her face. “Now, are you ready to make small talk?”
He’d thought of simply taking her back to his condo and surprising her with a little bondage, but he was greedy. If he was cursed with thinking about it all night, he wanted her thinking about it, too. He wanted her aroused while they sipped champagne and smiled politely at the other guests. Wanted her anxious and eager. Nervous. A little scared.
Wet.
She was staring out the windshield now, eyes distant. When Quinn stroked a finger down her arm, she jumped.
“Ready?”
Lori licked her lips. Her eyes slid toward him and then away.
A surge of confidence rolled through him, jolting the nerves in the deepest parts of his body. He hadn’t been sure, hadn’t wanted to step over the line, but now he knew. Lori did want this. Wanted it so much she was terrified to admit it, was horrified to have it out in the open. So Quinn wouldn’t push her or force her to say it aloud. He’d simply make it happen.
Hoping his arousal had faded enough to save the public any embarrassment, Quinn stepped out of the car and walked around to open Lori’s door. When she took his hand, Quinn led her across the street and into the party without saying another word.
She hadn’t paid any attention to which book Quinn had swiped from her bedroom. If she’d thought about it, she might have seen this coming, but sex and unpaid bills had absorbed her thoughts for the past few days.
But now he knew. Knew she wanted to be tied up, maybe even spanked.
“Oh, God,” she muttered.
Quinn glanced in her direction but said nothing.
Her brain spun with the compulsion to protest. Stop this thing in its tracks. Deny, deny, deny. But, horrified as she was, she didn’t want to deny it. He probably wouldn’t believe her anyway—hell, she’d dripped strawberry ice cream on some of those pages—and then she’d be embarrassed
and
unfulfilled. Better to be embarrassed and tied up.
Her face burned at the image as Quinn opened a door and ushered her in. The space was all dark wood and polished steel, packed with faces she didn’t recognize. Several of them looked toward her, and then casually away. She was no one here, and for once that was a relief. Even if these people
could
read her thoughts on her face, she’d never see them again.
But Quinn…Quinn knew her too well, and when his hand settled on her back, Lori inhaled sharply.
“Shall I get you a drink?”
“Yes! Please. Definitely.”
His lips brushed her cheek in a brief caress before he strolled over to the bar, and Lori stood there like an idiot with her fingers pressed to the spot.
She had to get it together. For God’s sake, the person who’d trashed her place might be somewhere in this crowd, and all she could think about was her wrists being tied, Quinn’s long fingers pulling the silk tight, his face a mask of impenetrable ice.
When he reappeared at her side, Lori blushed again.
“Champagne?”
“Thank you.” She raised the glass immediately to her lips and gulped, wishing she could press the icy cold flute to her burning forehead.
“There’s Peter Anton.” Quinn gestured with his drink while his other hand curved around her elbow. “I’ll introduce you.”
Lori froze. “No!” His questioning look stirred her brain to further confusion. “I mean, um…” Shoot. “I need to, uh, step into the ladies’ room. You go talk to Mr. Anton and I’ll find you in a minute. Okay?”
His sharp gaze stayed focused on her for a long moment before he nodded. “All right. You’re sure you don’t want me to wait?”
“Nope, I can handle the bathroom on my own. And if I can’t, I’ve got my cell phone.”
“Good to hear.”
Lori spun toward the little alcove to her left and headed toward the pay phone, a sure sign that the bathroom was near. She wasn’t even sure people used pay phones anymore, except as a means to locate the restroom. She glanced back to see that Quinn had already turned away, then popped into the alcove, counted to twenty and stuck her head back out.
There he was, shaking hands with a slight blond man wearing wire-rim glasses. He looked like the pictures she’d found of Peter Anton online, only he was smaller than she’d expected. Delicate as the gentleman was, his watch looked as if it weighed a good three pounds. Definitely the rich Mr. Anton.
Now Lori had the element of surprise. Not that she expected him to spill some deep, dark secret to a strange woman, but her spying would be completely ineffective if he knew the crazy-haired woman in red heels was Lori Love.
Ducking back behind the wall, she finished off the champagne in a few big swallows and hurried into the bathroom to buy a little time. She wanted Quinn to speak with Anton and move on. Then her plan would be ready for execution: Share a couple of drinks with Quinn. Start a conversation between him and some other engineering nerd about a fascinating topic. Something like “the structural inadequacies of today’s failing bridges.” Then slip away for a little reconnaissance while Quinn talked the night away. The perfect plan, as long as she could strike while the nerd iron was hot. Quinn wouldn’t be nearly as absorbed by some rich trophy wife’s thoughts on bridge deficiencies; Lori had to find the perfect foil.
After tucking more than a few stray curls back into place and dabbing a little nude lipstick on, Lori slipped back into the party. She spotted Quinn right away by searching out the broadest shoulders in the room. Peter Anton was nowhere to be seen.
Raising her chin, she marched out.
“Hey,” he whispered when she wrapped her arm around one big bicep. “Everything go okay in there?”
“Well, it was a close call, but I only got one foot wet.”
“Excellent work.”
When he lifted his head, Lori was forced out of the private little world he’d created and back into this group of strangers.
“Let me introduce you.” A flurry of names and titles floated around her, none of which she’d remember in a few seconds, but Lori dutifully smiled and shook every hand. “And of course, you know Jane,” Quinn added.
“Jane!” Lori felt stupidly relieved when she spotted Quinn’s assistant at the edge of the group. “I didn’t know you were here.”
Jane inclined her head and the light gleamed off her simple chignon. “Ms. Love, it’s a pleasure to see you again. May I refresh your drink?”
Quinn made a shooing motion. “Would you please go have fun? You’re not on duty tonight.”
“Hmm.” Jane raised an eyebrow. “Then I don’t need to remind you that your Monday flight was changed to 11:00 a.m. before I leave?”
“Uh…” Quinn squinted. “Only as a gesture of friendship.”
“Of course, Mr. Jennings.” Jane smiled at Lori before she weaved her way into the crowd.
Lori shook her head, watching as Jane disappeared. “Is she always so formal?”
“Pretty much. She’s sweet once you get to know her, though. I think she’s just more comfortable keeping her distance.”
“Was she educated at a Swiss boarding school or something?”
“I have no idea. But she
is
very smart. Just a few minutes ago she told me she liked you.”
“Really?” Lori didn’t like the warm and fuzzy feeling she got from Quinn’s revelation. This man was nothing but a friend she was using for sex. Despite what Molly thought, it was going nowhere, so the opinion of Quinn’s friends should mean nothing to her.
She told herself the same thing several times over the next half hour as she made small talk with the rich people he hung out with every day. She nodded when she didn’t understand the political talk. Laughed at inside jokes that went over her head. Pretended pleasure at every new introduction even as her brain reeled.
But finally—finally!—Quinn introduced her to a likely candidate. Edward’s scruffy Afro and smudged glasses marked him as an outsider in this crowd, as did his rumpled jeans and plaid shirt. “Edward just joined Mountain Alliance as their soil engineer. How are you liking it over there?”
Edward mumbled something back, then brought up a problem with some new site with a high water table. So began a conversation about excavation techniques that eventually turned into a friendly argument about the benefits of blasting versus…Well, Lori didn’t care. She just said a quick prayer of thanks and slipped away unnoticed.
She needed a better prop than her empty champagne glass, so the bar was her first stop. As soon as she had a water glass in hand, Lori slunk along the edges of the party, keeping her ears open and her eye out for Peter Anton. She didn’t quite know what spying on him would accomplish. There’d probably be no talk of that pesky female garage owner. And even if there was a minuscule chance that he’d been responsible for her father’s skull fracture ten years before, the man was unlikely to have blood under his fingernails or a mark of guilt on his forehead.
She heard Quinn’s name before she spotted her prey. When she turned toward the sound of “Quinn Jennings,” she found herself not three feet away from Peter Anton.
“Yeah,” he said. “He says we’re on his schedule, but he does want us to firm it up within a few months.”
The other guy—Bliss, maybe?—nodded. “Well, if we don’t have it by then, we won’t have it at all. He understands that this is all preliminary and not to be divulged? I don’t want this floating any farther than it already has.”
Anton’s mouth opened, but before he could answer, his gaze landed on Lori. His eyes traveled down her body before he studied her face. Heart seizing, Lori smiled and moved on, pretending she hadn’t been standing in the middle of the crowd, staring. She circled around, glancing over her shoulder in a flirtatious way just in case he caught her checking. He did. In fact, he offered a rather predatory smile as he leaned closer to his companion and resumed their talk. She hadn’t meant to make herself quite so noticeable.
“Shit,” Lori mumbled and edged over to a large window on Peter Anton’s other side. Sure the view was a blank, black square of night, but the people behind her couldn’t know that. Lori stared into the darkness and sipped her water, eardrums vibrating as she strained to pick up anything.
A long moment passed of nothing but the hum of dozens of people speaking. A woman laughed as if she’d had way too much to drink. Then, finally, she heard Peter Anton again. “We’ve already discussed this. He’s not going to be a problem.”
Quinn?
Were they still talking about Quinn? And why would he be involved in anything
secret
that might be a
problem?
Surely this had nothing to do with her land. That would be too much of a coincidence. Or no coincidence at all…
The other man spoke. “I don’t like so damn many people knowing about this.”
“You’re the one who can’t stop talking about it,” Anton growled.
Their voices lowered. Lori strained to hear.
“What are you doing?”
Lori jumped at the voice coming from just over her shoulder. Water dribbled down her fingers as she spun to find Quinn’s assistant frowning in concern.
“Hi, Jane!” she squeaked.
“Hi. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah! Great. Super.”
“Why are you staring at a blacked-out window?”
“I…Oh.” She squinted, noticing for the first time that not even one distant light was visible in the darkness. “Is it blacked out? I thought there was just no moon tonight.”
Jane’s eyebrows lowered. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She pushed her mortification aside. “Yeah, of course. Just lost in thought.”
“Did you argue with Mr. Jennings? Please don’t take it personally if it seems like he’s ignoring you. I saw him talking with Edward Rubian and—”
“No, no. Quinn’s fine. It’s just the party. Small talk is stressful for me.” As she got over the shock of being caught spying, it occurred to Lori that Jane might hold some secrets herself. And Lori was clearly a failure at this spying thing. It was probably a good idea to just try gossip. “So, what’s Quinn’s relationship with Anton/Bliss?”
“His relationship? He’s one of their favorite architects. I’m sure they’d love to have him in-house, but he’s not interested.”
“Is he working on something for them right now?”
“Of course. He usually is.”
She could hear caution creeping into Jane’s voice, but Lori took a deep breath and asked one more question. “Does it have anything to do with Tumble Creek?”
Jane frowned. “Tumble Creek? Why would you think that?”
“Oh, I thought I heard…rumors.”
“About Tumble Creek? I haven’t heard a thing, unless…Wait. Highway nineteen runs through there, right?”
“That’s the pass.”
“Hmm. I could swear I heard someone referring to highway nineteen recently.”
The tiny bit of anticipation that had tightened her shoulders faded to nothing. “Quinn’s house is off nineteen. That’s probably what you’re remembering.”
“Maybe. Yes, I suppose that must be it.” But she frowned down at the floor.
The awkward moment drew out for too long, so Lori lurched into a new topic. “Anyway, how did you come to work for Quinn?”
Jane glanced up as if she’d been lost in thought, but then shook her head and seemed to let go of her worry. “I worked in the office where he apprenticed after his degree. Mr. McInnis was so impressed with Quinn he asked him to stay on after his apprenticeship. He’d never done that before. Two years later McInnis retired and encouraged Quinn to open his own practice. He urged me to go with Quinn. I did.”
Lori blinked in shock. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you call him Quinn!”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I thought of him as Quinn back then, but he’s Mr. Jennings now.”
My God, this was weird, wasn’t it? Jane looked uncomfortable, too, and suddenly Lori had no doubt of the woman’s age. Her eyes behind the glasses were wide and uncertain. Her skin flushed and smooth as silk. Definitely pretty and definitely young.
Jane bit her lip and glanced around, then leaned close. “I work among men, Ms. Love. Not that I think Mr. Jennings would ever be inappropriate, but the men coming through the office…Engineers and surveyors and developers and planners and, oh, God, the
contractors.
” She gave a little shudder. “Professionalism is key. Even with the women, because they assume that just because I’m young and working for a handsome, successful man, I’m taking more than dictation from him in the back room.” She rolled her eyes and went on. “I’m not well educated. I’m not one of the boys. Propriety is all I have.”