by Anne Harper
Plus, what would he even say? He hadn’t disliked the kiss yet he’d sure shut down after it.
“And I’m holding a really nice bra like I won it from a festival’s claw machine,” she said as he finished. This time she split her confirmation with a cringe. “A bra that has thrown Arbor Bay and a portion of the online world into a tizzy.” Then her cringe turned into a flash of anger. “Because, apparently, you can’t buy anything nice for yourself just for yourself. Last night my sister Olly sent me an entire comment thread of people condemning me for not standing my ground on being single like I said on Valentine’s Day and then, right after that, Jones texted me that he’d had two guys at the bar ask him to put in a good word with me since I was ‘obviously ready for some action.’”
An influx of anger made its way into Quinn’s chest.
“I don’t understand. How did this Keith guy get this picture and why is it on his website?”
“He took it yesterday after I got out of the dressing room at the Cherry Blossom Boutique. Tally and I went during lunch.”
That anger in his chest was on a fast track to rage. It actually propelled him to stand.
“So he took a picture of you outside of a dressing room. Without your consent.”
Nell’s eyes widened as she looked him over. She nodded.
“That’s kind of his M.O. when it comes to his type of sham journalism. Which is funny because the reason he usually doesn’t get in trouble for stunts like this is because he’s not a real journalist.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t get in trouble for his stunts? He does stuff like this often?”
Nell nodded. “He’s been in trouble with the law a few times, but nothing sticks long for whatever reason. I’m sure if we lived in a big city and not a town the size of a thimble, more would stick, but he gets out of almost everything. One day he’ll tell you he’s a serious reporter with a legitimate news publication, the next he’s hollering that neither is true and he’s just a man with a lot of thoughts he puts on a blog.” She shrugged. “Everyone in town knows he’s full of it and, if he gets too rowdy, he can be yelled at enough to undo whatever bad he’s done. Still, it depends on the story and who he’s talking about. Doing that to me since I went viral probably is the highlight of his year.”
Quinn shook his head. “This isn’t right at all. Where does he work?”
“Where does he work?” she repeated, surprise in her tone.
He was about to explain he wanted more information on the scumbag who’d exposed her like that when someone started pounding on the front door. Quinn’s body reacted on instinct. He spun around, making sure he was between it and Nell.
The woman, however, was unperturbed.
“Don’t worry. There’s only two people who knock like that and I’ve been expecting them both all morning.”
Despite her assurances, Quinn led the way. His adrenaline was starting to thump beneath his skin. He stopped directly across from the door and crossed his arms. Nell looked between him and it for a moment before turning the deadbolt. She was already talking before the door was opened all the way.
“You can’t beat Keith up because you want to be mayor one day.”
A man with dark skin, dark hair, and a pair of camo fishing galoshes gave Nell an incredulous look.
“Wrong brother.” His eyes snapped to Quinn’s. Unlike Nell’s, they were green. Though their ability to convey anger and frustration was nearly identical. “And who the hell is this?”
Nell slapped the man’s shoulder. “This is Quinn Hannigan. My boss.”
The man didn’t budge. Instead he copied Quinn’s stance, tilting his chin up a little for added effect.
“And what’s he doing here, at your residence, during work hours?”
Nell groaned. “He came to check on me because I was too embarrassed to come into work today.”
It took a second, but that seemed to be the correct answer. The guy kept a scowl on his face but outstretched his hand.
“I’m Nell’s brother Mateo. Nice to meet you.”
Quinn shook his hand. He didn’t get to agree. Mateo’s anger redirected to his sister.
“And even if I was Leon, who I already talked to by the way since you won’t return any of my calls or texts, I’d still punch that little weasel if given the chance. Mayor or not, who cares?”
“What are you even doing here?” Nell shook her head. “I thought you were fishing all day with Dina’s brothers.”
Mateo waved her off dismissively. The move reminded Quinn of Nell.
“I never would have gone had I seen the post last night, but I turned in early and you know how crappy my reception is out at the house. I didn’t get squat until I was on the boat! Though it wouldn’t have mattered since Ryan and Kia had the picture on their phones.”
Mateo pushed past them both, anger mounting.
“Olly said he took that picture outside of a dressing room. That’s crossing a line, Antonella. A damn line.” He drew a line in the air to emphasize his point. “You already threatened to get the law involved if he didn’t take the picture down, right?”
Nell threw her hands up. “Of course I did! I called him, left him a message, and even emailed him. No response!”
“So did you call the actual cops?”
Nell looked two seconds away from swatting her brother.
“Do you know how many people have tried that with a Keith story? Sure, he ends up taking down whatever it is he wasn’t supposed to post, but he makes a bigger stink out of it than the actual post made in the first place. I guess I was hoping he’d call me back first. See if I could defuse the situation before blowing it up even more.”
Mateo shook his head, clearly disappointed.
It seemed to only anger her more.
“And don’t you first-name me, Mateo,” Nell warned. “Dreams of being a mayor or not, you still can’t just go punching douchebags out regardless. You’re in school and on a scholarship. If you got the cops called on you, that could all go away.”
That perked Quinn up.
“Wait. Do you know where he is right now? Keith, I mean.”
Both Bennetts turned to him as if they’d forgotten all over-six feet of him was even there.
“He works at home but he won’t be there.” Mateo must have seen something in Quinn that spoke to his anger. He pulled his car keys from his pocket and shook them. “But I do know where he is now.”
There were so many reasons for Professional Life Quinn and Personal Life Quinn not to go with Nell’s riled-up brother to find a man who had embarrassed and exposed her like they were a couple of hot-headed teens who’d promised to kick his ass behind the bleachers after the bell rang. For one, all of that was just a recipe for trouble. He’d been called in to help bring a more responsible and stable appearance to Heart in Hand. Like a metaphorical scarecrow planted in front of the business, ready to shoo away any unwanted attention or drama. Searching out a sham reporter in the name of defending a woman he’d kissed no more than two weeks ago? That wasn’t exactly flying under the drama radar.
Secondly, he wasn’t a fan of violence unless it was self-defense. He’d been taught that by his father and he’d passed that lesson on to Owen. Smart men could do a lot more damage without a fist.
Yet there Quinn was, standing in Nell’s house and staring at said woman, and his fist was getting itchy. All she’d been doing was minding her own business when a creep with a camera and the internet had used her life for his gain.
After that, all the many, many other reasons why Quinn shouldn’t do a damn thing saw themselves out.
He might be avoiding a personal relationship with Nell, but that didn’t mean he was going to let some ass named Keith get away with hurting her.
Nope.
Bad idea or not, Quinn couldn’t help it. He nodded. “Let’s go hav
e ourselves a chat.”
…
It all happened so fast. There Quinn and Mateo had been one second, then gone in Mateo’s Jeep the next. Nell was left standing in the foyer with her mouth open in protest and the sound of the front door shutting echoing in her head.
“What the double junk just happened?”
She turned on her heel and hurried to her bedroom upstairs. There she did a reverse twister and switched out her lounging pajamas for something that didn’t smell like spilled coffee and bacon.
This isn’t happening, she thought as she readjusted her curls into a bun that said “this is intentional” and not “this was done so I wouldn’t get face wash on my hair.” Surely she was mistaken in what was going on.
There was no way that her boss had come to her house only to leave it with the youngest Bennett kid, all in the pursuit of Keith Mc-Freaking-Haulty. That was a far-fetched situation when you put almost anyone riding shotgun with the passion-filled Mateo, but add in Quinn?
Quinn the consummate professional?
Quinn the detached, impersonal man she’d spent the last few days relearning and pretending she hadn’t kissed like there was no tomorrow?
No way, no how.
She had to be dreaming. Maybe she’d drowned out her frustration in too much heavily sugared coffee and was asleep thanks to a sugar crash.
But then Nell saw Quinn’s rental parked in her driveway. Right behind her car.
Nell cursed. Quinn was the type of guy who slung his car keys right into his front pocket when he was done with them. She’d seen him do the same dance the last few days through Heart in Hand’s front windows. Which meant there was no way she could chase her brother and the man down and stop them from—what?—beating up Keith?
She groaned into the living room curtains and hurried back to the kitchen to her discarded phone. It was time to alert the Bennett siblings that one of their brood was about to get into trouble. An alert that had been called only a handful of times in their adulthood.
She could already feel Liere’s mother-hen stare, spread between Mateo and Nell. Never mind it wasn’t Nell’s fault. At least not intentionally.
Why, oh majestic bra, have you caused so much chaos in my life?
Nell spotted her phone next to Quinn’s bottle of water on the counter but paused next to something else he’d left behind.
His messenger bag was on the floor, having fallen over when he jumped up, no doubt. The top flap was skewed and the tip of what looked like a wrapper was visible.
Nell stopped in her tracks.
She did a quick look around the room.
Don’t be nosy, you loon. This is your boss’s private property, said the voice of politeness and reason.
But it’s in your house because he just ran off with your brother to, no doubt, make a town-wide fuss that could result in his being arrested or your brother being arrested, coaxed the voice of the sassy and way less concerned.
Before she could go another round of one versus one with her conscience, Nell scooped up the bag and opened it.
At first she didn’t know what to think, but that sure didn’t stop the smile from tugging up the corner of her lips.
Inside was an assortment of candy and chocolate bars. From Hershey’s to M&Ms to Sour Patch Kids. Like Quinn had just gone solo trick-or-treating in Arbor Bay. But it was the card among the spoils that really got Nell.
Her name was written on the blue envelope in neat, tight handwriting.
She took a beat and once again looked around her house, feeling guilty at being a snoopzilla. That guilt went right out the window when she pulled the card from the unsealed envelope.
On the front was a drawing of a typewriter. Beneath it was two lines of text but they’d been marked out so she couldn’t read them. Inside the card, however, was a handwritten message.
This is my version of sending you a funny GIF. Without all that internet hassle. Feel better. – Mr. Red Flags.
Nell’s cheeks actually hurt from how hard she was smiling.
Had the quiet Arbor Bay newcomer brought her over Get Better Soon goodies because he thought she was actually sick?
The same man who had basically hit the eject button after their lip-lock?
Was he having a change of heart about his loner status?
About her?
Nell shook her head in slight disbelief.
Maybe he was just being a good boss. A small-town boss. One who needed to make connections to succeed. One who needed to champion his employees for a better work environment. One who needed to have friends.
Friends.
That was good and fine and it.
Because, while Nell wouldn’t mind getting closer to Quinn, her most recent belief still held true. Even more so since Keith had reminded her of her stance on men.
She was done with them.
Adorable red flags and all.
Chapter Six
“Well. That escalated quickly.”
Quinn was standing in the middle of the Arbor Bay Fisherman’s Clubhouse and in front of Keith McHaulty with a sense of regret, relief, and a slightly sore set of knuckles.
“It was an escalation that was warranted,” Mateo answered from his side. His eyes were alight with righteous brotherly anger, which was why Quinn had known he needed to be the one to handle talking to the faux reporter. Though now, looking down at the man on the floor holding his jaw from where Quinn had just landed a solid punch, he was thinking maybe Mateo should have done the talking instead.
“You hit me,” Keith cried out. He didn’t have to say he was surprised; his lack of defending himself from the hit said it all.
“And you were crude about Miss Bennett after I told you explicitly to stop talking about her.” Quinn shook his hand out. Keith flinched at the movement as he scrambled to his feet.
“All I was doing was speaking the truth about women like that who just want attention!”
Mateo took a step forward. Quinn put out his elbow to check the young man. While the Fisherman’s Clubhouse was in a small wooden building, its parking lot was damn near full. Most of the owners were already out on boats on the bay; some were standing around their group looking ready to defend their local boy from the non-local who’d seemingly just hightailed it inside to hit a man.
“From what I’ve heard and seen, it’s you who has a hankering for attention.”
Keith made an exasperated noise. The same he’d made right before he’d called Nell two words Quinn never, ever liked attached to a woman.
“I report on stories that are already exciting. That’s why I report on them in the first place.”
The circle of locals around them was starting to tighten a bit. Four men of varying ages. All scowling at the one man they didn’t know, tensing for the upcoming retribution.
Quinn didn’t have time for it. He straightened his back. When he spoke again he made sure to sweep his gaze to those men and not Keith.
“For his last story, Mr. McHaulty here waited outside of a boutique’s dressing room so he could take a picture of a young woman without her knowledge or consent. Then he put it on his website, once again, without her knowledge or consent.” It was like someone had flipped a switch. Four men, angry at Quinn, were now four men, angry at Keith. Quinn leaned in to that and also turned his attention back to Keith. The man looked a lot less confident. He was trying to avoid the four men currently judging him.
“Now, I didn’t come here to fight you, I came here to ask you nicely to remove that picture. But what did you do? You kicked up a fuss and called a woman who isn’t even here to defend herself several derogatory names. That earned you a punch, and I stand by that punch. I may be new to town but I’m not new to being decent.” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the threat of Mateo jumping the man having gone down. “Take down the picture o
r I’ll be the one to get the law involved.”
Keith dared to sneer. His eye was starting to puff up. Quinn didn’t think he’d hit him that hard, but he had wanted him to get the point.
Don’t call Nell Bennett anything starting with a B or C in his presence unless you wanted some pain.
“Why do you care? Who are you even?” Keith asked, still exasperated. “Are you sweet on Antonella? Is that it? Because I hate to tell you, man, but she’s a bag of mixed signals.”
“Do you want to get hit again, dude?” Mateo asked.
Quinn took a step forward. Keith took a small step back.
“I’m her boss, and I’m not leaving until that picture and story are taken down. And, since you don’t know me, I’ll go ahead and assure you I mean what I say.”
Quinn made sure to jam-pack his words with severity.
Then he waited for Keith to either comply or dig himself a deeper grave.
One look around the room later and the man surprised Quinn by nodding.
“Fine, I’ll take it down,” he said. “But only because I’m sure your employee isn’t done with the spotlight just yet. I’ll get another story one way or the other.”
Quinn was about to get prickly with his response again when a new voice entered the conversation. It was worn but strong and absolutely angry.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure he takes them down.” An older woman with gray hair in a tight braid stepped into view.
Keith’s face went white.
Where Quinn expected a rebuttal from the man, there was nothing but silence.
Mateo nudged Quinn, then nodded.
Whoever the woman was, she had taken command of the clubhouse. She gave Quinn a curt nod.
And just like that, it was over.
The men around Keith dispersed and Mateo led Quinn outside. It wasn’t until they were back in his car that he let out a hoot of laughter and hit the steering wheel.
“Do you know who that was?” he asked.
“That woman? No.”
Mateo nearly lost it again.
