“You did not just tell me that.” He threw his forearm across his eyes while he digested that news. After counting to ten, he uncovered his eyes and stared up at the pinpricked sky. The silence between them drew out as he sucked in a lungful of cool fall air. “There’s not a chance you’re still waiting for me, is there?”
“Nope.”
“It’s official. I am an idiot. And I could have gone my whole life not knowing that.” He stroked his fingers up her arm in silence.
“Quinn? About that do-over . . .” Delaney rolled her body toward his, lifting her head to gaze into his eyes. “How about another truce? Make love to me. Please?”
36
“Damn, Delaney, it took you long enough. I was afraid you weren’t going to ask.” And then he rolled her body all the way on top of his, cupped his hands around her head, and kissed her. He took it slow, pressing his lips to hers in a long, plundering kiss. A gentle nibble on her bottom lip before sliding his tongue into her sweet mouth. As his lips worshipped hers, he ran a hand along the soft skin of her neck, across her shoulder, and down her rib cage. He grinned under her lips at her moan when he brushed his hand by her breast before moving past. “Relax, Laney. I’ll get there.”
As slow as molasses in the winter, he stripped her out of her top, kissing each inch of skin he exposed. Next went her bra, as he worshiped her breasts in the moonlight. When her hips ground against his, he rolled her under him and helped her remove her jeans.
“Hurry, Quinn.”
He got side-tracked, letting his mouth and hands caress along the way. Planting a kiss on her newly exposed hip bone, he refocused on her jeans. When her pant leg stuck on her prosthetic, he kissed along her thigh while he tried tugging the jeans from a different angle. They didn’t move an inch. He only had one other option, but he didn’t want her self-conscious so he distracted her with his mouth and hands first before he said, “Laney, I think I need to take your foot off to get you naked.”
“Quinn, I’d let you remove my arms if it means you’ll put your hands and mouth back on me.”
He grinned up at her as he fumbled with her prosthesis. “I can’t get it off. Is there a strap to unhook?”
Delaney sat up to help. “No, you just have to press the button—”
“You have no patience. I’ll get to that, but we need to take care of this first.”
She laughed and brushed his hands aside to take care of it. “I got it.”
“Wait, show me. I’ll need to know for next time.”
Her body froze. Damn, he shouldn’t have said that. Leaning into her, he kissed her deep, playing his tongue along hers until her hands were gripping him tight again and her eyes glazed over with desire. He did not want her overthinking this, coming up with a no. He needed to get her back to horizontal and do things to her that had her crying yes, yes, yes.
“There’s a release button on the side. Yeah, push that in. Hold it down and pull off the prosthesis. Then roll down the gel liner.”
“Got it,” he said, placing it carefully to the side. Then he turned back and took care of her jeans, panties, and his own clothes quicker than a pit stop at the Indy 500. “All right, gorgeous woman, now I’ll take care of that other button.”
He touched her everywhere, needing to so badly while he made her moan, and whimper, and pant. He made her lose her breath and took her so high she screamed with the descent. They lay twined together under their own private light show in the back of his truck like they were the only two people in the world.
"I want to be inside you. Deep.”
“Yes.”
He pressed into her, amazed at how good she felt. How good they felt together. Slow but firm strokes fanned the desire swirling in his gut.
“Never stop,” she whispered in his ear. “Make this last forever.”
He tried. He honest to God tried. But the sweet glide of his body into hers took them both so high and close to the edge, he knew he’d be lucky if he lasted five minutes. Closing his eyes, he paused, then slowed his thrusts down even more. A slow move into her heat, pausing there as he bent to suck her nipple into his mouth. Her fingers tugged his hair as he moved his hips against her, grazing her in just the right places until her fingers scratched down his back. Nerve endings shot electricity through his limbs, and he thrust harder and faster while he held tight to his own urges.
“Quinn!” she groaned as she came and sighed like she’d seen heaven.
Her sigh tipped him over the edge and he followed her, riding the same wave, ripping swift and powerful through his body and soul. Wrapping her tight in his arms, he rolled her back on top, where she lay sprawled out on his chest, relaxed and grinning.
“Wow.”
“You can say that again.” Quinn ran his hands along her back and perfect ass, memorizing every curve and sinew of her lean body. “Was that okay? That we took your prosthesis off? I mean, we’re just figuring all this out.”
Delaney looked down at their legs. “Honestly, it didn’t bother me. Not with that thing you were doing with your hand. And your mouth.”
“You like that, huh? Stick with me, little girl. I’ve got a couple more tricks like that up my sleeve.” Her body tensed and she rolled off him and away, withdrawing back into her solitude. Damn. The stars still winked brightly down at him as if his world hadn’t just grown darker. He knew he needed to play this cool. She needed time. Time was his friend. The moon was bright enough to find their clothes easily. Once they were both dressed, Delaney sat on the tailgate and attached her prosthesis with stiff, awkward movements. “Hey, are you doing okay?”
“Thanks to you.” One side of her lips tilted up at the corner. “And your talented hands and mouth.”
“No, I meant from over at the cemetery.” It was too dark to read her eyes, but his gut clenched to see her smile wobble.
“Oh. I . . .” Her lips lost the gentle curve. “I don’t know if okay is in my cards. Please don’t worry about me, Quinn. I’m in a better place than I started. Maybe when I get back to D.C. I can look at things in a new way.”
There she was, twisting that knife again. “You don’t have to go back to D.C.”
“You’re a good man, Quinn Cates. You shouldn’t settle for someone like me. You deserve so much better.” She tugged her jeans down over her prosthesis with an aggression that didn’t match her calm voice. “And I refuse to take advantage of your kindness.”
“Kindness?” He jumped off the tailgate and paced two steps away, then whipped around to face her. “You think what just happened in the bed of this truck was an act of kindness?”
“Are you denying that it didn’t cross your mind that this was closure for what didn't happen in the back seat of your car back in high school?”
Well, hell. It wasn’t the way she was making it sound, but he’d be damned if he’d lie to her either. He ran his hand across the back of his neck and huffed out a breath. “I’m not going to deny it, but you know it was more than that.”
“No. It can’t be. I told you all along this couldn’t be anything.”
His heartbeat pounded in his head like the tick of a clock. He was running out of time. Time wasn’t his friend; it was stabbing him in the back. Once Delaney escaped back to D.C., he was sure she’d rebuild the walls he’d dismantled. She was too damn strong for her own good.
“Quinn, it’s okay.”
Holy hell, he was running out of ideas. He’d used every weapon in his arsenal to enact his battle plans. His last desperate option was to withdraw and give her space. Because it wasn’t okay. You couldn’t rip someone’s heart out and expect him to be okay.
37
Delaney barely saw Quinn at all the next week, but that was fine, because it meant Quinn had listened to her when she’d told him what was between them couldn’t be anything. Sure, it had been special. It had helped them both move on, right? Quinn had gotten past his high school crush on her, and she was finally ready to head back to her life in D.C. and make real plans fo
r the first time in almost a year. She was having a bit of trouble picturing herself back there, but she was sure that was because of the crazy mess she’d been when she’d left.
She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but her time in Climax had been good for her. She had a split second of thinking maybe, just maybe, she could stay. Then she remembered there was one more shoe to drop. If her missing memory returned, she wasn’t sure what the fallout would be. She also never had told Greer about the nightmares, and she didn’t see the point now that she was this close to leaving. Especially when she pictured Greer’s laughing and relaxed face lately. Nope, she didn’t want to mess that up.
Which was probably for the best, since walking down the sidewalk or into a local shop and seeing two heads ducked together to talk in quiet whispers still tangled her gut in a knot. Burying the memory of her parents had helped, but it was hard to set aside how alone she’d been, how she’d always been judged because of her father’s behavior.
So she spent some of her week making plans and phone calls. Dr. Evans said the whole rehab team was chomping at the bit to get her working again. She’d also thought a lot about her career in the Army and had decided to get out and try nursing on the civilian side of life. She had a call in to an old nursing classmate. Nursing was still a little way off, but knowing there was a job waiting for her would give her something else to work toward.
As plans for her life in D.C. took shape, her life in Climax flowed with a newfound rhythm. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but her solitary life had begun weaving into the fabric of Climax. After her morning therapy session, she stopped by Lonnie’s Bait Shop to share coffee with the old-timers.
She had gone in the day after instigating the Great Knot Debate, for a new hook (since Quinn had cut hers off) and to apologize for the ruckus. The next thing she knew, she was heading there every morning since the men had decided to right a great wrong in her education and thus began her knot lessons.
Mr. McClatchy pushed the box of donuts toward her. “Here, Delaney. I got your favorite chocolate glaze. Eat up so we can get your lesson in. My herd of cows is waiting to be milked.”
Lonnie pulled the poster board out from behind the cashier’s counter and propped it against his shelf of fly-fishing boots and waders. For the next hour, Delaney and her fishing buddies discussed what each knot did and which ones worked best for each application. The arbor, Bimini twist, egg loop, king sling, orvis, slim beauty, and palomer were just a few she practiced tying under the men’s careful tutelage.
“Delaney, I’m petitioning the town council to remove the ‘No Fishing’ sign from the bridge.” Old Man Baxter tipped up the bill of his cap to look across the plastic table at her.
“Thank you, Mr. B. But you know there are no fish on that part of the creek, right?”
“We’ve watched you pass right by the bait bucket.” He winked at her as the other old-timers sitting around the table grinned along too. “We’re slowly figuring you out.”
Heading out of Lonnie’s toward the side parking, she couldn’t keep the grin off her face thinking about those father–daughter fishing lessons she’d missed out on. She was pretty sure she was getting them now. Glancing at the men through the window as she passed, she had a gooey spot right where her heart was. She rubbed her chest and focused forward. Forward to D.C. and actually living again. For the first time in forever, things were feeli− What the heck?
Someone was messing around at the front of her Jeep! Someone dressed in dark baggy clothes with a ball cap pulled low over his face. The person held a damn sticky note in one hand as he lifted the wiper with the other.
Oh, hell no. This would end now.
Delaney took off, running toward her vehicle as fast as she could. Apparently the rat bastard had never taken the presidential fitness tests seriously growing up because he was slower than she was, even though she was more awkward than fast.
The criminal took a hard right turn in an attempt to cut across the park, so Delaney aimed herself and took a flying leap, tackling them both onto the grass. Air forced out of both sets of lungs with a whoosh on impact. Ow. When her lungs finally worked again, Delaney eased up enough to roll the perp over. She grabbed the cap off and tossed it to the side for a good look.
“You!”
38
“Holy hell, Stacie!” Delaney plopped back onto the grass, her lungs burning and her leg throbbing as she stared at Barbara’s bff. “What did I ever do to you?”
“What haven’t you done?” Sitting up, Stacie brushed grass off her jeans with brisk swipes of her hands. “Delaney Lyons, this town isn’t big enough for both of us.”
Delaney narrowed her eyes at the woman. Was she serious? Yep, there went her angry raccoon face. Dead serious. Did I know Stacie was crazy?
“Is this about Quinn? Because that’s really a conversation you need to have with him. I don’t—”
“No. This is not about Quinn.” Stacie rolled her eyes. “This is about you stealing my spotlight.”
What the heck was she talking about? “When did I ever steal your spotlight?”
“You’ve been stealing my chance to shine my whole life.”
“Shine away. What’s stopping you?” Other than standing in Barbara’s shadow.
“You. This year was finally my turn. Barbara promised.” Stacie’s glare hit her with full force. “And then you showed up and ruined everything.”
“Of course I did.” Between her dad, Barbara, and now Stacie, she was getting damn tired at being blamed for everything.
“All through high school, I had to stand by and watch Barbara get crowned Miss Everything. And you’d come in second and not even care because you were winning all those cross-country and track races. I’m so tired of being invisible.”
“You’re not invisible, Stacie.”
“Do you know how many races I won?”
Delaney scrunched one eye closed, trying to think back. “I’m sorry, I don’t. To be honest, I didn’t know you ran cross-country.”
“Arrgh! Exactly!”
Oh, hell. “Look, I was out of the loop in high school. I’m sorry. Let’s celebrate you now. Congratulations.”
“Well, I didn’t win any races, but that’s beside the point. The point is Barbara said this was my year to be the show-stopper in the auction. The most bid-on bachelorette. I bought a killer dress seven months ago and helped her put the whole event together.” Stacie scalded her with a blistering look. “And then, the day you came back, Barbara came up with a different plan. She told me she was holding the last spot in the bachelorette auction for you and I couldn’t have it.”
Stockholm syndrome was the only possible reason Barbara wasn’t the bad guy here. “So you tried to scare me out of town and the auction with the ‘go away’ notes?”
“Oh, please. The notes were just a gentle nudge. I even sweetened the first one up with one of Aunt Marie’s best cakes!”
“Why’d you cut the phone line?” Delaney asked.
Stacie’s face pinched up and she huffed out a breath. “That was an accident. I was trying to cut your cable TV. I mean, I wouldn’t stay somewhere without cable.”
“And the graffiti and the broken window? What was that?” She held Stacie’s gaze. “When the nudge didn’t work, you moved to a shove?”
“A mistake.” Stacie grimaced and bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it even while I was doing it, but my anger just took over. I . . . have anger issues.”
“No kidding. Maybe you should see someone about that.”
“Oh, I do. You weren’t the only one with a sad childhood, but you wouldn’t know it around this town.” Stacie waved her hand around, the raccoon face back again. “It was always Delaney this, or Delaney’s mom and dad that. Ugh! Delaney, Delaney, Delaney.
“Let me tell you, growing up with one parent was hard. My mama worked long hours just to afford rent and food. Sure, she loved me, but when she wasn’t working, she was too tired to do a
nything. And at least your daddy was around.” A sob rolled up Stacie’s chest, and she paused to suck it in. She brushed fiercely at the tears escaping down her cheeks. “My daddy hasn’t so much as called since the day he left on my fourth birthday.”
Delaney didn’t agree with the way Stacie lashed out at her, but she understood the anger.
She could connect with that little four-year-old girl’s pain.
“My daddy kissed me good-night and promised me pancakes for breakfast if I went to sleep like a good girl. He was gone when I woke up the next morning.”
Wow. There were so many ways to screw up a child’s life, weren’t there? Delaney sucked in a breath of air. “I’m sorry about your childhood. It’s totally sucks, but that still doesn’t give you the right to do what you did to me.”
Stacie was still too angry to give an inch. Leaning forward on her hands, Delaney pushed up with her good leg until she managed to stand before reaching a hand down to help Stacie up. “You’re going to have to pay for the repairs to Greer’s house.”
“Fine.” She took Delaney’s hand, and let her help her up but avoided eye contact. “Are you going to turn me in to the police?”
“I’m going to have to tell Quinn so he doesn’t keep wasting time looking.” Delaney grabbed Stacie’s sleeve and pulled her silently along toward the bait and tackle shop. She glanced down at Stacie’s shoes. “The cops thought you were a dude from the footprints you left.”
The woman literally growled. “Another reason I hate my father. My big darn feet are the only things he left me.”
Delaney pulled open the screen door, ushering Stacie inside.
“You said you weren’t going to turn me in,” Stacie hissed at her, trying to slip out of her grip.
“I’m not. You can thank me later.” Delaney walked her back to the table of old-timers. “Gentlemen, I just ran into my old friend Stacie and I was shocked to hear her say the Bimini twist is the best and only knot worth using.”
Still Crushing on His Best Friend’s Older Sister: Cates Brothers # 2 Page 21
