by Jenny Frame
“I know. I’m going to have a word with Lang. That episode today gave me quite a fright. If a normal member of the public could get that close with a real weapon, then God only knows what they could do. I think things have been a little lax since we got to North America.”
Thank God someone was finally listening. “I think that’s a good idea, George,” Quincy said.
George nodded. “Well, you must excuse me. Teddy is waiting for me to read the next story in her Winnie-the-Pooh book.”
Quincy smiled. “Duty calls, then.”
“Indeed. Have a good night, Quincy.”
“Goodnight, ma’am.”
Quincy walked back to her bed, sat down, and looked at her watch. Maybe Holly had a change of heart.
Just as she thought that, there was another knock at the door, and a voice shouted, “It’s time to come out to play.”
It was Holly. Despite her horror at the thought of going out, she felt a huge ball of excitement in her stomach.
She opened the door, and Holly stood there with the most gorgeous smile. She was beautiful. The feeling Holly gave her hit Quincy forcefully, straight in the chest.
Holly was wearing skintight ripped skinny jeans with black heels, a very low cut black strappy top, and her biker jacket tied around her waist, with lots of tribal style wristbands and three beaded necklaces in different sizes. Nothing about Holly was regular, or predictable.
Holly looked her up and down, then screwed up her eyes. “I like the suit. Bespoke, I’d guess?”
“Yes, I have them made in a little tailor’s in Savile Row,” Quincy said.
“Nice, but you need to liven it up a bit. Can I come in?” Holly asked.
“Of course,” Quincy said.
As Holly walked past her, she realized there was no back on her top—it simply tied at the neck. She had an overwhelming urge to run her fingers down Holly’s back as her excitement grew.
“Let me look at you,” Holly said.
Holly had this way of biting her lip that Quincy found adorable. She jumped when Holly quickly undid her tie, but she caught Holly’s wrist in her hand before she unbuttoned her collar button.
“No, I don’t wear my shirt open,” Quincy said in panic. She never thought for one minute Holly would remember the quick look she’d gotten of her burn scars, the night she’d helped her back to her room.
Holly looked at her silently, then said, “That’s okay. We can liven you up in other ways. Let me see your wardrobe.”
“Excuse me?” Quincy said.
“I need to look at your selection of ties,” Holly replied.
Without waiting to be invited, Holly bounced over to her wardrobe and opened the doors.
Quincy was there in a second and pushed one door shut. She was more than a little angry at anyone invading her privacy.
“Do you trample your way through the lives of everyone you meet?”
Quincy expected an angry response, then maybe they could bring an end to this charade, but Holly just chuckled and pushed her in the chest. Amazingly Quincy found herself moving as meekly as a mouse.
“Not everyone, but you, Captain Stompy, need your life ruffled up,” Holly said.
Once Holly got a proper look at Quincy’s wardrobe she said, “Bloody hell.”
There were about ten suits hanging in suit bags, and ten white shirts hanging perfectly beside them, and about the same number of ties, sitting perfectly in a row, in various shades of grey.
Holly turned her head and said to Quincy, “You are so straight Quincy, in an un-gay way.”
“Un-gay? What does that mean?” Quincy queried.
“I made the word up just for you. If you weren’t so deliciously butch I’d worry you weren’t gay.”
“Who says I am?” Quincy said sharply.
Holly rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You outstud most men.” Holly then walked out of the room saying, “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
***
Holly left Cammy and Lali’s room clutching a selection of coloured ties. She’d had to put up with a few jibes about going on a date with Quincy, but this wasn’t a date. Was it?
No, she was just trying to make Quincy feel better. The look of shame and embarrassment she had seen on Quincy’s face today hurt her heart. She had wanted to run to her and gather her in her arms, but she couldn’t.
No one who watched today’s events could know the pain and the mental scars Quincy carried. No one knew she didn’t want to sleep because of the pain that awaited her. If they did, no one would have laughed.
Whatever Quincy had gone through to win her medal haunted every breath she took, and the strange thing was, Quincy didn’t know how Holly understood her. She didn’t know that Holly had heard the dreams that tortured her.
Holly had to get Quincy to talk, but she had to do it a little at a time. If she didn’t, Quincy would run.
She arrived back at Quincy’s room and walked back in with a big smile. “I have donations from Captain Cammy’s wardrobe.” Holly held up the ties, which were a few different shades of red. It seemed military people didn’t go wild when it came to expressing themselves through colour.
“What’s wrong with my tie?” Quincy asked.
Only half listening, Holly held up each tie to Quincy’s collar until she found one she liked. “You need something less grey and more cheerful.”
“What do I have to be cheerful about?” Quincy asked stubbornly.
Holly ignored that question for the moment. “This will do.”
She picked a red tie with navy blue flecks through it. Holly slipped the tie around Quincy’s neck and went to lift up her collar, but Quincy grasped her hands and said, “I think I can do my own tie.”
Holly’s breath caught as she felt the strength and warmth coming from Quincy’s hands. As she looked into her intense eyes, Holly felt in danger of falling in, so she took a step back and took a deep calming breath. When her heart rate returned to normal, she said to Quincy, “You are going out with me.”
Quincy looked up. “What?”
“You asked, what did you have to be cheerful about? You’re going out with me, that’s what. My friends will tell you—where the fun is, you’ll find Holly Weaver.”
The corner of Quincy’s mouth lifted into a smile that reminded her of the moment they’d locked eyes at the polo.
“Is that right?” Quincy said.
“Yeah, it is. Now that we have that sorted, how about your hair?” Holly said.
“Oh no. I draw the line there,” Quincy said. “This is a regulation haircut.”
“Regulation this, regulation that. I don’t know about you, Captain. You need a little un-regulation in your life.”
“Un-regulation? Is that like un-gay?”
Holly burst into laughter. “You’ve got it, Stompy. Let’s go.”
***
Quincy got a few strange glances and a few envious looks from members of the protection squad. It made her feel good—in a strange way—to be pulled along by this energetic, enthusiastic woman. Jacob had a similar outlook on life as Holly and was always telling her to enjoy herself.
Once they got outside the hotel, Holly put on her leather biker jacket, and Quincy said, “So where to now?”
“Let’s get in a taxi and go to the river. It’s first on my list,” Holly said.
“List?” Quincy queried. “I thought Holly didn’t make or follow plans?”
“I don’t. I just made a list of things I’d like to do while I’m in Chicago. That’s all. Apart from that, we’ll play it by ear.”
Holly waved down a taxi and pulled Quincy in. They had a minor scuffle at the other end when Quincy insisted on paying for the taxi. When they got out, Holly scowled at her, as she put her wallet away. “I asked you to come out with me. Why did you have to do that?”
Quincy straightened her tie and said, “There are some rules I will not bend about, and one is that a lady never pays.”
Holly strolled up to her and grinned be
fore stroking a finger down her tie. “So what does that make you, then?”
That one simple act turned her on so much. She was feeling so many new and intense feelings around Holly.
Quincy responded quickly. “An officer.”
Holly giggled. “And a gentlewoman? How can I argue with that? Let’s go.”
They made their way down to the walkway and started to stroll slowly along.
“This is beautiful isn’t it?” Holly said.
“Beautiful,” Quincy said, looking right at Holly.
Holly stopped and looked at her. “You never say a sentence when one word will do, do you?”
She smiled and said purposely, “No.”
“Very good, Stompy.”
Quincy said, “I leave all the words for you—you seem to need so many.” She offered Holly her arm, and she took it.
“True.” Holly smiled.
They strolled along, admiring the boats on the river as they went.
It felt so easy being with Holly. She didn’t feel the need to think of making conversation. Holly carried the conversation for them both. Listening to her incessant chatter and commentary was strangely comforting. It was a relief, and at the same time frightening, how easy this was. Feeling comfortable in someone else’s presence was a foreign experience.
“Are you listening?” Holly said.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
Holly should have been annoyed that Quincy wasn’t listening, but the small smile on Quincy’s face made her annoyance disappear. Whatever thoughts were making Quincy smile, they had to be good.
“I said, why don’t we hop on one of these little cruise boats? You’d like that, being a marine navy-type person.”
“If you’d like to.”
Holly shook her head as she laughed softly. She had never seen Quincy smile so much and be so compliant.
“You’re actually smiling tonight, and not arguing with me.”
“I don’t go out of my way to disagree with you, Holly. I’m just trying to do my job,” Quincy said.
“I know. You’re not as grumpy and gruff as you make out,” Holly said. “I think I always knew that.”
Holly thought back to when she’d kissed her out of anger. It had been intense, and she’d never forgotten it. In that brief moment, she’d found that Quincy had passion buried deep down inside her.
Quincy seemed uncomfortable after Holly’s revelation, and they remained silent until they got to the little jetty area, where the boats were all moored.
They picked one that went out for a half-hour ride and climbed aboard, Quincy insisting on paying again. They walked up to the front of the ship and leaned against the railing.
Holly lifted the phone on her wrist and said, “Quincy, smile.” She moved in close to Quincy and took a selfie. “I’m going to put this on my social media, if you don’t mind?”
“That’s fine.” Quincy closed her eyes and took a big breath of air.
“Do you miss the sea?” Holly asked.
“Yes, sometimes,” Quincy replied.
Another short reply, but if Holly wanted Quincy to talk about more painful things, she had to play the long game. One thing was certain—Quincy had to talk about her pain, or it would eventually destroy her.
“Okay, how about this, you ask me a question about my life, then I ask you one,” Holly said.
“Why would you want to know about me?”
Holly sighed. Despite being one of the most polite people she had ever met, Quincy had zero social skills.
“It’s what friends do. We’re going to be working together for a long time,” Holly said.
“If you like.” Quincy looked terrified at the prospect.
Holly thought she’d start easy. “You ask first, then.”
“Um…” Quincy looked as if she was thinking hard. “Why did you change from a psychology degree to hair and make-up?”
Holly was completely surprised by that question. “How did you know that?”
“It was in your security file,” Quincy said flatly.
“You read a security file on me?” Holly said, annoyed at the idea.
“Don’t worry. There’s nothing bad in it,” Quincy said.
“I should think there isn’t. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Holly didn’t like the idea of Quincy having an advantage over her, but then she remembered that she knew about Quincy’s nightmares.
“Okay, well, I was always really into hair and make-up, but I did well at school, and my parents, well my dad, was really keen that I go to university. I think it was something my dad regretted missing. He was really clever, always finished the Times crossword and difficult puzzles in no time, but his parents weren’t so supportive.”
“And so you felt obliged,” Quincy said as if she understood.
“Yeah, but my heart wasn’t in it. Although I met the best friends I could ever have at uni, I was unhappy in my work. Dad saw that and told me to follow my heart,” Holly said.
Quincy looked in her eyes. “And you did?”
Holly nodded. “And look where it led me.”
“Quite.” Quincy smiled.
Holly rubbed her hands together. “My question next. You went to Queen Georgina’s boarding school in Scotland?”
“Yes, the Queen was two years above me, but we were in a lot of the same afterschool groups. My mother went there and grandfather. That’s the Quincy family career path—boarding school, then officer training school,” Quincy said.
Holly sensed a sadness in that answer but didn’t want to pursue it and scare Quincy off. The wind rushed through her hair and she shivered.
Quincy must have seen her because she unbuttoned her suit jacket. “Here, put this around you.” Quincy draped the jacket around her shoulders.
“Quin, no, you’ll be cold,” Holly said.
“I’m used to being up to my eyeballs in freezing mud. I think I’ll survive.” Quincy gave her the sexiest smile that made Holly shiver down to her toes.
The thing was, Quincy didn’t know what a sexy smile was—it was just natural and of the moment. She thought back to her date with Story, and she felt Story probably practised her sexy smiles in the mirror.
Holly pulled the jacket tightly around her and inhaled Quincy’s cologne.
She moaned, and Quincy said, “Sorry did you say something?”
Holly was caught out. “Um…just commenting about how polite and well brought up you are.”
“I don’t know about well brought up, but we had politeness drummed into us at boarding school.”
Holly slid closer to Quincy on the rail of the boat, so their elbows were touching. “And you just love following rules?”
“Indeed,” Quincy said. “Rules make a military unit work, keep the wheels turning, and keep everyone safe.”
Holly sensed they were delving into dangerous territory, so she tried to lighten the mood. “You want to know where we’re going next?” Holly said.
“Tell me?” Quincy smiled.
“The one thing every visitor to Chicago has to experience.” Holly leaned in close to Quincy and whispered in her ear, “Deep dish pizza!”
***
After their boat ride, Quincy got them a taxi, and Holly asked the driver where the best pizza place was. He drove them to a place called Daisy’s Deep Dish, and they found themselves in a long line waiting for a table.
“I told you we should have booked a table, Holly,” Quincy said.
“Oh, live a little, and have some faith,” Holly said giving her a wink.
Quincy groaned internally. A wink from Holly had a similar effect to when she’d whispered in her ear on the boat. Then Quincy had to hold the boat’s rail tightly to stop herself from visibly shaking. The thought of Holly’s breath and kisses on her body made her wet.
No one had ever done that before, and they were such new emotions to deal with—attraction and frustration. She started to shuffle from one foot to the other and tap her hands against the sides of he
r legs.
Quincy looked at the length of the line ahead of them and said, “Look, let’s find somewhere else.”
“Have some patience, Captain. We’re in no hurry—unless you’re desperate to get away from me and back to your toy soldiers?”
Quincy’s evening would be a lot calmer if she was back at the hotel with her model soldiers. Being here was scarier, but Holly’s enthusiasm for life silenced her demons for a time.
“No, I have all the time in the world for you.”
“Great.” Holly smiled brightly and looped her arm through hers. Holly was someone who didn’t respect boundaries and was openly affectionate, and that was so foreign to Quincy, but she was beginning to like it.
Holly took out her phone and showed her how their selfie on the boat had gotten so much positive feedback.
“You have a lot of friends and followers,” Quincy said. She didn’t participate in social media. The thought of sharing her life and private thoughts with the world made Quincy shiver.
“They’re not really true friends. I picked up so many new followers when I became Bea’s dresser, and then when I went out with Story, it went a bit mad.”
Just then a message popped up on her screen: Hey, babe, give me a call. I’ve got some great plans for when you come to LA. Holly stuffed the phone in her pocket quickly.
She was obviously better acquainted with Story St. John than she’d said. Quincy stiffened and felt a tightening in her stomach. She had felt the same emotion when Clay had shown her the pictures of Holly and Story together after their night out.
How could she compete with a film star? Quincy realized what she had just thought and chastised herself. She was not in any competition for Holly or any woman.
A silence hung between them until one of the restaurant staff came up to them and said, “Ma’am, if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to a table.”
Before they could question him, he walked off. Holly yanked Quincy’s hand. “Come on.”
“We can’t jump the queue,” Quincy said.
Holly laughed. “Stop being so British, Captain. Come on.”
She was dragged along and they were seated in a booth near the back, and given free drinks. Apparently, they recognized Holly as being the Queen Consort’s dresser who went out with Story St. John.
