by Shyla Colt
“Jesus, I might charge you for all this mental labor you’re putting me through.”
“I think you have plenty of brain juice to spare,” I say as I click open and we watch as the day neither of us will ever forget is brought up on the screen. Silence falls. Neither of us speaks. Perhaps we’re grieving for what once was. I clear my throat and begin to click through each photo. The girls and the cars stand out against the urban, graffiti-laden walls. We’ve gotten the vibe we wanted. The price was too high to pay. I’m numb by the time I finish clicking.
“The shots are beautiful,” she says.
“Yes, they are.”
She places her hand over mind, and I close my eyes, soaking up her silent strength.
“It’s discombobulating thinking about how the day started and how it ended. You and I, I think we’re doing okay, though.”
Turning my head, I meet her steady gaze. “You really think that?”
“We’re dealing. It’s more than some would do.” She squeezes my hand and warmth floods through me. Blood pools in the lower half of my body and I’m keenly aware of the attraction between us ramping up the intimacy in tight quarters. She licks her lips, and I follow the movement of her pink tongue. I want to suck it into my mouth and watch her brown eyes turn liquid. I lean in, and she matches the movement.
Her eyes fill my vision. Rapping at the door makes us both jump.
“That’s probably the pizza,” she says as she smooths back her curls, looking anywhere but at me. I don’t know if the interruption is an annoyance or saving grace. Neither of us has it together yet.
“Yeah. Let me get it. “
“I’m going to stop by the little ladies’ room.” She stands and hurries out of the room, leaving me more confused. I run my hand down my face and trudge to the front door. My lips are still tingling with anticipation. The woman sets me off. Eventually, this is going to come to a head. The thought lifts my mood, and I push further away from the melancholy that hovered over the photo shoot. I retrieve the pizza and manage to keep my irritation out of the tipping process. I have the box open and napkins and paper plates on the island when she returns.
“Dinner is served.”
“Thank you. It looks so good.”
“Piggie Pie’s is my favorite place to order from in this area.”
“I’ve never had them before.”
“You’ll enjoy it. What can I get you to drink?”
“Water?”
“You got it.” I grab two bottles of H20, and we take our seats at the kitchen nook. The next twenty minutes are quiet as we devour the cheesy heaven that is Piggie Pies. She helps me clean up and we wash our hands at the kitchen sink.
She pauses and leans back against the granite counter. “Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?”
She’s bold. I like that.
“If you want to.”
“Was that a response to your reaction to the photos or me?”
“Quinn, we both know I was into you from day one.”
“I know, but what we went through ...” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to mistake a visceral reaction to a horrible situation.”
“Are you going to tell me you weren’t interested in getting to know me better before that night?”
“I’m not sure what I was. You intrigue me.”
“Then we know it has nothing to do with the robbery.”
“I don’t think we can separate ourselves from that.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” I move closer, placing an arm on either side of her curvy frame. “You’re the only person on this planet who gets how I feel right now. I like that. I also like you. You’re funny, tough, kind, and sexy as hell, whether you’re wearing a dress or a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. There’s a connection between us I want to explore. I’m not saying we need to run out and get married or jump into the deep end of a relationship, but we should test out the waters. Because I don’t want to live with the question of what if running through my head.”
She bites her bottom lip, and I groan.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she whispers.
“Make me want to kiss you more than I already do.”
She peers up at me through her dark lashes. “Maybe you should.”
I’ve never been the kind who needs a lady to tell me twice. I press our bodies together and bite back a moan as her soft curves mold to me. Bending my head, I brush our lips together. A jolt streaks through my body like lightning. I shudder and go back for seconds. I press our lips together, and she yields, sighing as she opens. I slip my tongue into her mouth, and my head damn near explodes at the feel of her wet heat and the spicy sweet taste of her. She moans and grips my forearms as she moves her head slightly to deepen our lip lock.
Her tongue twirls around mine, and I grip the counter to keep from pulling her lush form to me. She’s hesitant. I don’t want to spook her, but she makes me feel starved. I want to eat her up and drink her down.
Her body trembles and I cup the back of her neck, taking her weight as my own. Her arm slides up and wraps around my neck. She toys with the nape of my hair, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips. We part to suck down air and stare. That one kiss changed our dynamic. The hum between us has gone from the frequency of television to that of power lines. I no longer fear it. I cherish it. It gives me a place to belong. A new point in my life to pick up from where no one has expectations of my previous incarnation.
I rest my forehead against her, content to simply be in this moment.
“Wow,” she whispers shakily.
“I second that.” I grip her hips lightly, and for the first time I think I might make it out of this a better person in a far superior place in their life. For the past few years, I’ve been in a holding pattern. It’s time I take flight or change course.
Chapter Five
Quinn
I glance back in the rearview and swear the same black four-door sedan has been following me for the past fifteen minutes. There’s nothing that stands out about the car, but these days it doesn’t take much to set me on edge. I switch lanes and slow my speed. It responds accordingly. My anxiety spikes. Clenching the steering wheel, I force myself to remain calm. I’m halfway to my house. I can’t go there now. The clock says three. Ollie might be home. He’s been toying with going back to work. Please be home. I press the button on my phone.
“Call Ollie.”
The seconds stretch like salt water taffy.
“Quinn?”
“Thank God.”
“What’s wrong. You don’t sound like yourself.”
I glance over my shoulder. “I’m not sure.”
“Tell me.”
“There’s been this black car behind me for the past twenty minutes.”
“You think it’s following you?”
“Maybe. Could just be in my head.”
“Where are you?”
“About fifteen minutes away on Main Street.”
“Come over.”
“I don’t want to bring them to you if its—”
“Stop being so damn sassy for once, and let me help you. It’s my turn.”
“Okay.”
“Good. Stay on the phone until you get here. Are they still following you?”
I glance in the rearview. “Farther back, but yes.”
“Tell me about your day.”
“What?”
“Your day.”
“I ... uh, I had a gig with a model I’ve been working with for years. She needed new photos. It was fun.”
“Oh yeah. How did the pictures turn out?”
I cling to the normalcy he’s trying to provide.
“From what I saw they’re going to be gorgeous. I think she needed the boost. She’s been trying to break through for the past five years, and I think she’s losing her love for it.”
“That has to be tough.”
“Yeah, I think the new direction she’s trying for is
going to do her well. It’s all about reinvention in that industry.”
“Do you work with a lot of models?”
“Not as much as I used to. You didn’t go to work today?”
He snorts. “Not on the job but behind the scenes. I’m catching up on what’s been going on and picking up the slack of the paperwork.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Sassy,” he mutters.
I giggle.
“Did I finally find a nickname you’re not going to shoot down?”
“I guess so. My reward for your persistence.”
“How could I be anything else when I know how worth the wait you are?”
I give a quick laugh. “Smooth.”
“I try.”
I take a right turn toward his home, and the car keeps going straight. “I’m an idiot.”
“What happened?”
“The car kept driving when I turned.”
“Come over anyway. I need a break, and I want to see you.”
The sincerity in his voice coaxes a smile. “Only if you promise to feed me.”
“Always hungry. I’ll do you one better. We’ll go out.”
“Like a date?” I ask as excitement fills me.
“Past time we had one, don’t you think?”
I smile. I wasn’t sure if the kiss the other day had been a one-off or the start of something new.
“Yes.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Since you’re feeding me, why don’t you pick?”
“How about we head over to Trinity Groves and pick when we get there?”
My mouth waters at the thought of the unique offerings from the incubator program which brought in fresh new restaurants trying to make a name for themselves. The Microbrewery they have adds to the charm. It’s a cultural event every time I go.
“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?”
“I’m learning.”
“I’m pulling into your driveway.”
“I’m hanging up and escaping the mountain of paperwork in my office to meet you at the front door.” The dial tone in my ear makes me laugh. Ollie is a good kind of crazy I didn’t realize I needed in my life. I put the car into park and make my way up to the house. The door opens before I can knock and I bite my bottom lip as I take in his faded jeans and the plain black T-shirt stretched across his chest. The physical therapy and prescribed exercise are shaping and toning his body in ways that make my lady parts quiver. The sexual frustration that exists between us is real.
“You look good.”
He scans my frame. “So do you.”
I glance down at the khaki shorts and white peplum shirt. “I didn’t dress to impress.”
“You don’t have to try to do that.”
Placing my palm on his chest on the opposite side of his wound, I rise on my heels and keep my gaze glued to his as we kiss. The connection between us opens, and he slips his tongue into my mouth. I mold my lower body to his. He tugs on my hair, pulling it taut as he nips and sucks me into submission. I’m putty in his large, warm hands. Dazed, I peer up at him as he pulls away.
“We should go.”
“Uh huh.” He could say anything right now, and I’d go along with it.
He wraps an arm around my waist and guides me back the way I came.
“You want me to drive, sassy?”
“Yes, please.”
“Let me grab my keys.”
I admire his firm ass as he walks to the counter and grabs his keychain. He guides me to his hunter green truck and opens the passenger door for me. I didn’t expect him to be so damn polite.
“What? My mom raised me right.”
“I can see that.” There’s a lot to like about him.
I find myself scanning the area as he climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the truck up. Nothing stands out, but I can’t shake the apprehension lingering in the air. I roll down the window and try to relax as the sun warms my skin and the feeling of fear lessens.
He pulls into the parking lot, cuts the engine, and turns to me.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better with you here,” I say honestly.
He takes my hand. “We never really talked about the kiss in the apartment. It was more than hormones getting the best of us. I get that you’re gun-shy. We went through an insane event that changes us both. You’re worried we’re mistaking some sort of survivor’s bond with desire. I don’t think that’s the case. It brought us together, but it’s not keeping this thing alive between us. I want to see how far we can go. I’ve never been this into a woman or felt I vibed so well with one on this level. You get me, and I think I understand you. Attraction aside, we work damn well together. I’m old enough to know how rare that is. If you give me a chance, I’ll make sure you never regret it.”
He’s upfront and open. It’s one of the things I like most about him.
“It’s been a long time since I went the serious route, Ollie. I’m rusty, but I want to do this with you. I like you more than I ever intended to.”
He laughs. “I accept that.”
I squeeze his hand, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. Charming bastard.
“Enough with this seriousness. Let’s go have a good time. It’s what I bought you here for.” He let’s go of my hand, and I take a second to catch my breath. The man invigorates and stuns me with his authenticity. I was in a relationship with a bullshitter long enough to spot one when I see him. Oliver Hemnway is the real deal. It’s as terrifying as it is joy bringing.
He opens the door for me and holds out his hand to help me down. As I take the help he offers, it feels like more than assistance to get down—it’s the beginning of a journey with a man I’ve become quite enamored with.
He places my hand in the crook of his arm, and we make our way toward the sandstone bricked walkway that leads us to the restaurants. The tree topiaries and brightly colored flowers arranged in the large cement cylinders along the way are a nice touch. I’ve seen this place go up, expand, and develop over the years.
“I thought we could start at the brewery and try out some local things, maybe a sampler, and then just hop from place to place?”
“I’m down for that plan.”
We step beneath the tin roof, and the environment changes away from the sun. The shadows cast an intimate, romantic setting. I move closer to Ollie enjoying his silent strength. I’ll always feel safe with this man. He literally saved my life. While people would argue I returned the favor, what I did took humility, not guts. He showed true bravery. I’ll never forget that.
“Have you been taken the tour at Four Corners before?” he asks.
“I have. It’s incredible to think this all started in their garage.”
“I know, talk about the American dream,” he says.
“You’re kind of living proof of that, aren’t you?”
“Ehh. I always feel like I’m more a product of luck. I invested because Houston believed in it and he needed me. Without him, I’d never be a co-owner of a business. I didn’t have the foresight he did.”
“No, but you have the creativity and vision to create a viable brand.”
“We’re a good team,” he says.
Sexy and humble. He’s gaining brownie points all over the place.
We enter the rustic building with its shiny tin siding, concrete floors, and bright wooden tables and chairs. The posters are lime green, orange, acid wash orange, electric blue, and bee yellow with bold cartoons that illustrate the different beers. All of the names ooze Texas pride—Local Buzz, El Chignon, El Super Bee, Santana Ray, and Heart of Texas. When it comes to alcohol, I tend to be a beer girl. I’ll drink everything from pale ale to a nutty dark brew.
“Do you have a preference?”
“I try to do something new every time. I love the Local Buzz, but I’ll try El Super Bee this time. What are you going for?” I ask as we stand back and take in the menu.
“I’m going to d
o The Heart of Texas. I like ale, and red ale feels about right for three in the afternoon.”
I laugh. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, Ollie.”
“Ha, every time is the right time for beer given the proper motivations.”
I laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
“I’ll order those. You relax.”
“I can split—”
“I thought I was feeding you?” He arches a brow, and I smile down at the table.
“Right.”
“You can get me next time, sassy.” He knocks on the table before he walks over to the register. I admire his gait as he approaches the counter. There’s a lot about Ollie to like.
I glance over my shoulder and watch the people go by. None of them look suspicious or interested in me. Maybe I do need to see a head shrinker. I’m trying to move past what happened, but it continues to haunt me, even as the nightmares fade. It feels like there’s unfinished business. Because I didn’t agree to testify or do a line up. I’ll always worry they’re out there watching and waiting.
Ollie returns with the drinks, and I put on a smile as I push the worry down.
OLLIE
There are shadows flickering in the depths of Quinn’s brown eyes. She’s worried about something. I can tell the signs. We’ve been one another’s sounding board and the main source of support since it all went down. We’re thinkers. We stew until we’re ready to share. She’s always stepped up and helped put my mind at ease. I refuse to fall short on providing that same level of comfort for her. I study her over the rim of my Beermomsa. Buzzed, and full, we’re sharing a Brownie 6 and finishing off our last drink. The toffee is dancing across my taste buds like it’s trying to win a trophy. Everything at LUCK is good. The comfort food menu with local flare and the fact that they have fresh local beer on tap always makes for a good evening.
Setting the beer down, I dig my spoon into the brownie on the plate sitting between us.
“We’re going to have to walk around after this unless you plan on rolling me to the truck.”
