Between the Lines

by Renee Harless

  “I fucking love these,” he said into my ear, his gravelly tone brushing across my skin, heating me on the inside.

  “Your cheeks are red. What are you thinking about over there?” Trevor asks, breaking me from my internal musings. I wished he would’ve taken me against the wall in the foyer—I damn well would’ve let him—but he had quickly ushered me to the car, adjusting his shorts along the way.

  “Just daydreaming,” I lie as I go back to gazing out the window.

  The skyscrapers of Houston stand proud off in the distance and shimmer in the light of the setting sun. Brilliant oranges, pinks, and reds reflect and twinkle in the mirrored panels of the buildings, a kaleidoscope of colors gleaming in the evening light.

  “I forgot how gorgeous it is here at night, the way the light reflects off everything,” I gush.

  “That’s part of the reason why we’re going this way. I wanted you to have something nice to remember from your visit,” Trevor replies.

  “I have a lot of nice things to remember from this visit,” I tell him, my meaning coming through loud and clear.

  And as I had hoped, he turns to look at me underneath the brim of his hat and smiles in thanks.

  “I’ll probably miss you when you leave. Not a lot, because you’re annoying as fuck, just like my sister, but I’ll miss you a little,” he says in jest, obviously wanting the mood of the evening to stay lighthearted.

  “Aw, you’re too kind. I’ll probably miss you a little too. Just enough to remember why I don’t need to take extended trips to Dale City.”

  We both chuckle, though it’s forced, as the realization of my trip ending is closing in.

  A large building of concrete and glass begins to ascend into the horizon, and I perk up. “Where are we?” I ask as we pull into the parking lot.

  I’m surprised when we don’t stop but make our way toward the back of the building where several loading docks are filled with trucks backed into their open spaces. The car jerks as Trevor puts it in Park, and it brings my attention back to him.

  “A friend of mine co-owns this brewery. I thought it would be something fun and different. And I don’t need to mention that the food is some of the best I’ve ever had.”

  “Ooo, I should tell your mother that,” I tease as I unbuckle my seat belt.

  “Don’t worry, she’s well aware. We eat here pretty frequently now that Dad is getting close to retiring.”

  “I feel terrible that I haven’t been over to see them more since I’ve been here, but it’s so hard with them living across the street from my parents—er, the people who… damn, what the hell do I call them?” I ask in frustration as he leads me into a side door.

  “They’re still your parents. They raised you from birth. And my mom would love to see you more. I can ask her to stop by during the week. But you know, you’re always welcome to family dinner on Friday.”

  “I can’t believe y’all still do those.”

  “We do, though usually only once a month now though. But with you in town, my mom’s been itching to host more.”

  “Well I can’t wait. But please make sure it’s okay with them first.”

  As we approach a solid steel door, Trevor knocks three times.

  “Quinn, you know they’ve always thought of you as family.”

  The door opens to a heavily bearded man who smiles widely when he sees Trevor.

  “Hey, man. Glad you could make it. I have everything set up.”

  “Thanks, Mike. I appreciate you doing this for me.”

  “No sweat. It’s not every day we get this caliber of company” Mike glances at me and winks. “I mean, the famous Officer Shaw is dining in my establishment and drinking my beer. What more could I ask for?”

  Relief floods through me as I realize Trevor set this up so I wouldn’t feel out of place or like an outcast. An empty banquet room opens before us, and I home in on the single two-person table in the corner overlooking the tree-lined field to the right, copper brewing kettles and a tasting room all behind large-paned windows to the left.

  “Don’t worry, no one can see in here. That’s the beauty of this room,” Mike explains as he realizes my trepidation of people in the tasting room recognizing me.

  “Thank you,” Trevor says as Mike escorts us to the table and then introduces the waitstaff serving us tonight.

  Trevor and I peruse the beer menu and both settle on a wheat beer, which, by the look of surprise on his face, he did not expect from me. I like surprising him.

  “What? I’ll just have to hit the gym hard tomorrow. Thank goodness Izzy got me a visitor pass for my time here.”

  Our beer arrives quickly, and we place our orders as the nervous waiter averts his gaze from me. Something I’ve grown accustomed to from people, unfortunately. Either they’re too nervous to even speak to me or they act like they’ve known me their entire lives; rarely is there a happy medium. In LA I can’t even run to the grocery store for a tub of ice cream without having my security detail follow along.

  And now I realize the beauty of this date with Trevor. He brought me to a place where I could be myself and feel safe. Damn if he isn’t Mr. Fucking Perfect.

  “Hey, Trevor,” I start as I take a sip of my beer and let the alcohol fuel my courage. “Thank you for taking me somewhere private and for keeping an eye on me. I know you’ve been checking in around town while I’m here.”

  He nods. “You’re welcome. I know we haven’t had any photographers step foot into Dale City as of yet, and I want to keep it that way. Your safety is my priority, but don’t worry, it’s absolutely not a hardship on my part.” He winks and takes a healthy gulp of his beer as we watch a crowd of people our age stroll into the tasting room. For a Wednesday night, the brewery is packed.

  “You think they’re the same age as us?” I ask curiously as one of the guys smacks another guy on the shoulder in a joking manner, causing him to spill some of his beer.

  “Probably.”

  The way they all interact makes me feel older than my twenty-four years. I never experienced this part of adulthood: the post-college fun, serial dating, careless sex. I’ve always been on the straight and narrow. Achieve one dream and check it off the list, then move on to another. And as an actor, I need to act and present myself as more mature than the others in the field to be taken seriously. I didn’t just dream of an acting career for the money or notoriety—acting is my everything. Even if I never read another script for the rest of my life, I could see myself starting a drama course for aspiring actors. Actually, that’s on my goal list as well.

  Turning my attention back toward Trevor, I watch him take in the crowd on the opposite side of the glass. The serious look in his eyes has me contemplating if the cop in him is rising to the surface, or perhaps he feels the same way I do. Izzy doesn’t speak much about her brother when we catch up on the phone, but I know it takes a lot of time and pride to be a cop.

  “Did you get to do anything wild and crazy?” I ask, drawing his awareness back to me.

  “Naw, I joined the academy shortly after graduation. I did night school for a while to appease Mom, so I do have a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice.”

  “That’s amazing, Trevor. I had no idea. I wish I had taken the chance to go to college. I planned to apply to UCLA, but then my career took off so I never had the chance. And my days are long like yours. Twelve hours, typically.”

  “You could still do college, Quinn. There isn’t a certain age cap on it. Now that your career is steady, you could look into some online courses. What do you think you’d study?”

  “I had thought about teaching,” I reply nervously, taking another drink.

  “Teaching?” he asks, clearly surprised, and I know he’s thinking what I have for years: that I would make an awful teacher, that I wouldn’t know what to do with students.

  “Forget it. It’s just a silly idea.”

  “No, no,” he rushes out and places his hand on top of mine. “I think it’s a
great idea. You’d make an amazing teacher, Quinn. I’m guessing drama?” I nod and he continues, “Who better to show students how the industry works than a professional? I don’t think it’s silly at all. You should do it, absolutely.”

  His belief in me is astounding. I had doubted myself for so long, first with acting and then with my next steps in life. But to hear him praise me and have confidence in my skills has a new warmth blooming in my soul.

  “Thank you.”

  “No thanks are needed, sweetheart.”

  The waiter stumbles back into the room as he carries the tray loaded with our food. I watch in horror as it tips sideways, but luckily Trevor jumps from his seat and grabs the edge, keeping the tray upright and our food from crashing to the floor.

  “My apologies. I seem to have two left feet tonight. I’m usually not so careless,” the waiter embarrassingly admits as he shoots flitting glances in my direction.

  “No harm, pal.”

  Trevor pats the waiter’s back and takes his seat as the waiter places the food before us. My mouth waters at the smell of the juicy brisket.

  “This looks amazing,” I exclaim as I eye all the delectable food on my plate. The presentation is almost as breathtaking as the scents in the air.

  In response, Trevor admits, “Yes it does,” and I find him watching me through those stunning green eyes, a sexy side smirk on his mouth.

  I’ve had photographers, directors, and fans all give me words of flattery and I have never once believed them, thinking they all wanted something from me and my career. But with Trevor, I can feel the sincerity in his compliment, and for the first time in my life, I believe it.

  “So, I’m going to come out and say it,” I start as I take a hearty bite of brisket from my fork.

  “Shoot.”

  “How can you still be single?”

  “Very easily.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. Why? Why are you still single? You’ve been nothing but charming and nice to me. Not to mention you have a steady job and income, your own home, and well, frankly, you’re fucking sex on two legs. So explain it to me.”

  The fork clatters as he sets it down on his plate, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. At first I’m afraid I’ve stepped out of line and I willingly prepare an apology, but just as I’m about to beg for forgiveness for my intrusion, Trevor begins to speak.

  “It’s not that I want to be single, I just am. A couple of years ago there was someone I was serious with. I actually thought we were heading in the right direction, you know?”

  Yeah, I know. And that knowledge burns like an ulcer in my stomach.

  “I got hurt on the job, gunshot to my thigh during a typical stop for speeding. The guy was in a stolen car with five warrants to his name. He shot me at point-blank range. I think he was hoping to hit my goods, but his aim was off due to whatever drugs he had been doing at the time. Anyway, it burst an artery and I was rushed to the hospital with severe blood loss. She came into my room with tears streaming down her cheeks and said she couldn’t do it. That she couldn’t handle my job. The next day my mom said she had moved out. I haven’t heard from her since.”

  My eyes must be bugged out of my head, because utter shock is an understatement to how I feel at this moment. Who in their right mind could walk away from someone, especially someone they care about, when they’re lying in the hospital bed?

  He must notice my rising alarm because he quickly adds, “In her defense, her father lost his life in the 9/11 attacks in New York City. I understood where she was coming from, and I hold no ill will toward her.”

  “Did you… did you love her?”

  “I thought so. Now? I’m not so sure.”

  His words should soothe me, but they don’t. Now I’m on a high emotional alert, a rollercoaster that I desperately want to get off but keep strapping myself in for the ride.

  “Now it’s your turn. Tell me, Quinn Miller, why is it that you’re unattached and available?”

  I should’ve expected the tables to turn. Of course, he’d want to know why I’m not seeing anyone, but that answer is a simple one.

  “Because dating anyone in my world is a recipe for disaster. It’s just easier being single.”

  Trevor doesn’t believe a word of it based on the patient look he’s giving me. Probably a look I should master if I ever plan on becoming a teacher, because at this moment I’m itching in my seat ready to spill my guts.

  “Ugh, stop with the stare.”

  “Well, I know that isn’t the entire story, so spill.”

  “I met Alex Cruz on the set of my first movie,” I begin, but then Trevor practically spews the beer from his mouth as he recognizes the actor's name.

  “Alex Cruz, the action hero? The star of the Blood Brothers franchise? The guy who’s been in and out of jail for the last five years?”

  “Yep, that’s the one. It was all over the tabloids. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

  “Sorry, I don’t follow entertainment things usually.”

  “Well when I met him, he was just starting out, like me. Anyway, he charmed me and pretty much rode my coattails as I succeeded. Then when he had name recognition in the industry, he just up and left. I wasn’t sad about the breakup—I had seen it coming for a while, and so did Priscilla—but it still hurt. I had given him everything.” I swallow the remainder of my beer and place the glass back on the table with a clatter.

  “Everything?” Trevor inquires, but I know he understands what I meant, so I just shrug in acknowledgment.

  The waiter comes in to dispose of our plates, utensils, and glasses, keeping Trevor from saying anything more; instead, he emits a low growling noise under his breath.

  “Hey, it’s fine. I’m fine. And now I’m here with you.”

  His eyes soften marginally as he tosses a few bills on the tabletop.

  “Did you want to go to the tasting room?” I ask as he stands from the table and pulls my chair out for me.

  “No, I have something else planned for tonight.”

  “Are you going to tell me what that might be?”

  Escorting me from the banquet room and back down the hall, Trevor rests his hand on my back, just above the curve of my behind, squeezing gently as he shakes his head, ignoring my question.

  “So mysterious, Officer Shaw.”

  “A little suspense never hurt anybody.”

  Back at the car, he helps me tuck into the passenger side before jogging around the front and sliding into the driver seat. Before doing anything else, he reaches over and tugs on my seat belt, making sure it’s secure before fastening his own. Wide-eyed, I stare at him in wonder.

  He simply shrugs and says, “Safety first,” before starting the car and putting it in Drive.

  We exit the brewery and turn in the opposite direction, and my interest begins to pique. I trust Trevor with my life, and I know whatever he has in store will be amazing, just like the date thus far.

  Just like him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trevor

  IT FELT GOOD TO open up to Quinn during dinner. Only Izzy and my mom know what truly happened with Beth, everyone else assuming I had broken things off between us. It wasn’t too long before the playboy ways of my high school years were making themselves known again.

  I didn’t care for the assumed title, nor did I actually practice it. But I never squelched any of the rumors that milled about town, and there were plenty of women in Dale City who liked to say they had a wild tryst with me at some point in time.

  But looking at the sweet innocence on Quinn’s face as she stares out beyond the window, I almost wish I had killed each and every allegation. She’s just as kind and pure as she was growing up, and she deserves someone far better than the likes of a town playboy.

  Tonight though. Tonight I’m going to treat her right—how she should expect to be treated by every man from here on out. I’m going to set the benchmark so she knows tha
t if she ever settles down, she’s found someone worthy of her.

  The store Mike mentioned comes into view, and I quickly run inside to grab the items that were ordered for me. Five minutes later, I jump into the car and take us back toward Dale City.

  We travel in silence, the radio playing a current pop song, until the road I’m looking for comes into view. The fields we used to run through as teens look different when you’re coming from the opposite direction, and I’m quite certain that Quinn has no idea where we’ve come.

  The owners of the farm have been friends with my family for years, which is why we were never in trouble when we made our way to the clearing during the night hours. We always thought we were being so sneaky, but the only reason my parents allowed it was because they knew we were safe on the property.

  Last night I called in a favor with the family to set something up for us in the clearing. Nothing big or fancy, but something to help erase the bad memories that Quinn’s formed since she’s been home. Something for her to remember me by other than the incredible sex.

  “Follow me, sweetheart,” I request as I hold a hand out to her while the other rests on the door, holding the bag.

  “Where are we? Are we going to get into trouble?”

  I gasp in mock admonishment and stop dead in my tracks, practically yanking her back with me. “Are you accusing a servant of the town of Dale City of causing trouble and mayhem, Ms. Miller?”

  “Um… yes?” she says more as a question and not a statement, but the smirk on her face lets me know she’s playing along. I love that she gets my sense of humor.

  “Well, if I’m causing trouble, then you, Ms. Miller, are an accomplice. Therefore, if we’re going to cause trouble, we better do it right.” A plan begins to form in my mind, and I know the perfect way to have her stumble upon what I’ve set up for her tonight. “You have until the count of three. One.”