by Cindi Madsen
Don’t think about that right now. She hugged him tighter and slid her fingers underneath his shirt, gliding them across the firm muscles in his abdomen. The bike wavered, and she grinned against his back. That probably wasn’t going to help her cause, but the temptation to throw him off proved too strong. Next she kissed the back of his neck.
A few minutes later he pulled the bike off to the side of the dirt road surrounded by miles and miles of prairie land. “You really wanna drive?” he asked, and she nodded. “Do you know how?”
“I’m a fast learner.”
She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Weighing letting-her-take-charge-of-his-bike versus wrecking-his-precious-motorcycle scenarios. “So now you trust the machine that I built with my own two hands?”
She took one of his hands and kissed the back of it. “Now that I know they can build butterflies, I feel completely confident in your skills.”
He attempted to remain straight-faced, but a smile broke through. Then he ran his free hand over the handlebar. “I don’t usually let anyone else drive her.”
“I’ll go slow. And be so, so careful.” She held her breath, awaiting his verdict.
He swept his gaze across the prairie. “Guess there’s not too much out here you can wreck into,” he said. Then he shook his head, as if he were having trouble believing what he was about to agree to—clearly she’d convinced him to let her give it a shot, and a thrill went through her stomach. “Just promise me you’ll listen regardless of your constant aim to do the opposite of what I say.”
“Okay,” she said with a squeal.
As they stood to switch seats, Heath said, “And don’t think I won’t give you the same treatment you’ve been giving me.”
Putting on her most innocent expression, she batted her eyes. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Once they’d resettled onto the bike, Heath leaned over her to explain how to work the gears and gas and brakes. Her first couple attempts resulted in a lurch and the engine dying, but then she gradually got the hang of it. She figured out how to shift gears with her foot, even though motorcycle clutches were clearly not built with high heels in mind. The entire time, Heath’s body remained coiled behind her, ready to spring into action if she lost control.
By the time she’d cruised in third gear for a mile or so, she felt like she knew what she was doing, and Heath had even relaxed a fraction. The urge to punch it and fly across the flat prairie land was strong, but she’d promised to go slow, and they weren’t wearing gear for that kind of riding anyway.
Soft lips touched the back of her neck, and Heath’s hand dropped to her thigh and squeezed. Her breath lodged in her throat, and she slowed the motorcycle, downshifting when the engine almost died.
“Distracting, isn’t it?” he asked against her skin, and a shiver ran down her spine. “I think I’d better take over now, before you dump us both on our asses.” Not bothering to trade places, he reached around her and took control of the motorcycle. He spun them back toward Hope Springs and drove until they ended up in front of her place.
With her family now living in Cheyenne most of the year, the enormous three-story building loomed, no light, all clean lines and emptiness.
“I just want you to know that I heard you last night,” Heath said, his voice low and right next to her ear. “I don’t mind keeping things less complicated. But much longer looking at you in that skirt, and I’m afraid I might lose the shaky grip I have on my control.”
Instead of running from the flame, she crept closer, turning around on the bike so that they faced each other. She ran her hand over his jaw, the whiskers tickling her palm.
His backward hat gave her a better view of his eyes. Blue right now. Or…well, bluish-green. Pupils dilated. “Thanks for understanding,” she whispered.
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, carefully keeping his eyes off her legs.
“You know how you said you were addicted to seeing me? Well, I’m having the same problem. I need to drive back to Cheyenne tomorrow so that I can be in the office first thing on Monday, but I’ll be back for a long weekend to help out with the float. I think I can even manage to get back Thursday night to go with you to Oliver’s music program, if you want.”
“I want.” He dragged a knuckle down her arm, and the pulse underneath her skin chased after his touch. “What about all the gossip? The more time we spend together in public, the more people are going to talk. On the dance floor, I could tell what you said about your family and trying not to disappoint them was important to you. That you meant it.”
Quinn closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to let rational thoughts float to the surface despite how outnumbered they were by the oh-my-gosh-Heath’s-so-sexy-and-I-like-him-so-much ones. “It is. And I did. But we can play it like friends at the music show, and then later…” She tiptoed her fingers up his chest, gently tugged on the cross necklace he had on, and pulled him closer for a kiss.
Within seconds, his lips were moving against hers, stirring every hungry cell in her body into a frenzy again.
When they broke apart, she reached up and swiped a finger across his mouth, not that it did anything to remove the red. “Just so you know, you’ve now got more lipstick on than I do.”
“Good. I’ll go back to the bar and show it off, so all the other guys will be jealous.”
She laughed. “Or maybe they’ll start rumors about how you wear lipstick, and then everyone will ask what else you’re doing in your spare time—I bet they’ll even throw a few cross-dressing mentions into the mix. You know, that might help my chances with the town committee, so I’m all for it.”
“And I thought we were going to play fair,” he said, his mouth nearing hers again. One last kiss that made her head spin—and wasn’t even close to playing fair—and then she reluctantly broke away.
Her second attempt at a smooth exit was stopped by realizing that she couldn’t get off the bike without swinging her leg over his head—which was highly unlikely considering her lack of flexibility. Plus she’d probably end up kicking him in the side of the head, but only after he got a view of her underwear.
He must’ve read her oh crap expression, because he slipped off the back of the motorcycle and helped her down, his hands lingering on the sides of her waist for long enough that her rapid heartbeat thundered through her and drowned out all other sounds.
“Until then,” he said, and then he kissed her one more time. Her jelly legs barely made it to the door. He waited until she’d stepped inside to take off, and she stayed in the entryway, watching the fading taillights.
Quinn sagged against the wall and replayed the night, including how he’d let her drive his precious motorcycle and had been surprisingly patient as he taught her how, and then all of their kisses. Whenever she had chemistry with a guy, her attempts to go slow and play it safe got left by the wayside, and she and Heath had enough that spontaneous combustion seemed highly likely.
Already she felt more for Heath than she ever had after six months with Grayson. Despite reminding herself this was just a fun way to pass the time—because no matter what happened, one of them would lose their dream because of the other—she was already falling for him. And the crash at the end was going to majorly suck.
Quinn froze at the sound of footsteps, sure she must’ve imagined them. Then the light snapped on, making her jump and shield her eyes as she simultaneously tried to remember all of her aikido training.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
Chapter Ten
Quinn whipped around, biting back the expletive on the tip of her tongue, since she knew it’d only make things worse.
When she spotted Maya at the top of the stairs, her tensed muscles relaxed, but her heart continued to hammer against her chest. “You scared the crap out of me, Maya! You sound just like Haha.”
Maya’s wicked laugh made it clear she’d done it on purpose.
“Everything okay?” The deep male voice came from the d
irection of Maya’s bedroom—Steven.
“Yeah, babe. You go ahead and sleep, I’m going to chat with my sister.” Maya bound down the stairs and threw her arms around Quinn.
Quinn squeezed her back. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“Yeah, the house doesn’t close for a few weeks, so Steven and I decided to stay here for a while before getting back to the real world.”
“How was the honeymoon?”
A smile spread across her sister’s face, stars practically gleaming in her eyes. “Amazing. St. Barts was beautiful, and we just lay out on the beach all day and then stayed in all night.” She sighed. Then her eyes refocused. “And how was your night? Your makeup’s a little smeared. I suppose you owe that to whoever was on the motorcycle?”
Heat flooded Quinn’s cheeks, more from the memory than her sister’s correct assumption. Quinn tugged Maya to the couch, dying to dish about her perfect night. “Remember Heath Brantley?”
“The guy who caused you to swear in the church, who just so happens to also be the guy you were obsessed with for a while in high school?”
“The very same one.” The smile started to hurt her cheeks, but she didn’t bother fighting it back. “He’s so freaking hot, and while most guys are in a hurry to get the kiss over with and way more focused on feeling me up, he knows just how to use his lips and tongue. Not that he’s bad with his hands, either.”
Maya’s grin barely caught before her look morphed into one of concern. “You already sound so…” She grabbed Quinn’s hand. “I just worry about you. You’ve got that same twitterpated look and voice as when you fell for that Slade guy.”
Slade. The tattooed drummer whom Quinn had dated for a couple of months. Not long as far as relationships went, but it’d been one of those whirlwind types where they met, ended up talking all night long, and spent every spare minute they could together after that. She’d gone to every one of his shows, got completely wrapped up in him—the way she tended to do—and then, when she told him she wasn’t having sex until she got married, he’d dumped her so fast she’d nearly gotten whiplash. Since she’d thought they were kindred souls, it’d left her a wreck for about a month afterward. So half the time they’d been together. Whereas he’d probably had a new girl by the end of the night they’d broken up.
“I’m…being more careful now. I know better than to fall so hard so fast. Heath and I even agreed to keeping things light and fun. We know it’s temporary, and we’re just going to enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Mmm-hmm. Like with Adam? That kind of carefree fun?”
“Hey, no fair pulling out my hall of shame exes. He…well, he was perfectly free to see other women, because we’d agreed to no labels, and obviously he took advantage of that. A lot. But I’d like to point out that the supposedly safe guy ended up dumping me in the end, too. For the exact same thing.”
Maya flinched. “Grayson’s the baby of the family, and I knew he was spoiled, but I never thought he’d treat you that way. I’m sorry I pushed so hard for you to stay when you clearly were having doubts.”
Quinn tiptoed into the territory she hadn’t dared to over the phone. “He told me you guys didn’t wait, so I guess that translated to him not having to wait any longer, either.”
Guilt panged through Quinn when Maya hung her head—she hadn’t meant to make her feel bad.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t care, you know. It stung a little for him to know more than I did, though.”
Maya shrugged. “I waited until we were engaged. Honestly, I meant to wait for the wedding, but I love him so much and…” She shrugged again.
“Tell me all about it—I mean, the important happy details, not so much the blow by blow.”
Maya filled her in on her nerves before and how great Steven had been, and told her more about their honeymoon. Talking and giggling over boys, the way they used to in high school, made everything lighter, and Quinn needed lighter after the harsh reminder that every guy she’d dated didn’t care enough about her to wait. Especially not guys who looked like Heath. Not when they could so easily find another girl willing to do what she wouldn’t.
Maybe I am stupid to think I won’t get hurt because we agreed to nothing serious. The time away will be good. It’ll put enough space between us to help me keep perspective.
Because that certainly wasn’t an option when she was kissing Heath.
Chapter Eleven
Quinn strode through the office, her thoughts on yoga pants and takeout in front of the TV. It’d been a long week already and it was only Wednesday. Lucky for her, she only had one more day to go.
Chichi stepped out of his office. “Is the paperwork done for the Seventh Street property yet?”
“Just got it all turned in.”
“And you’re headed back to Casper tomorrow and then Salt Lake after that?”
Through a bit of smooth talking, she’d convinced her father-slash-boss that she should close on the Casper property in person. Then, since she was already headed in that general area, head down to Salt Lake City to get updates on their properties there and check out another building for sale, which cleared the last half of this week and the first part of next.
“Hai. From the pictures, I think we could get that Utah property for a steal, flip it with our contacts for not much, and then turn it into a moneymaker. But I don’t want to commit unless I see it in person—you know how unreliable photos can be.”
Chichi placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you for showing such initiative, Quinn-chan. I knew you’d get there eventually, even if you did have to drag your feet the entire way.”
Guilt washed over her. The semi-jab at the end didn’t even make a dent in it, because in his eyes, he’d given her the highest praise. No doubt it’d eat at her the entire week, regardless of the fact that she would check out the property as promised. But her priority right now was float building and Frontier Days prep in Hope Springs for Mountain Ridge.
She and Chichi rode the elevator down and exited the building. At least she got a glimpse of the last rays of sunshine. In a few months it’d be dark when she came in and dark when she left—that was when the winter blues hit.
When I get Mountain Ridge up and running, I’m going to set aside time to watch the sunset on that swing, just like Sobo and I used to do.
“Why do you keep parking way back there?” Chichi asked. “Planning a quick escape?”
Always. “Trying to get in a few extra steps each day. Read about it in a magazine.” Another half truth and another jab of guilt. Technically she had read a tip about parking farther away to fit in a little exercise when you had no time, but the real reason she’d parked there all week was because she didn’t want her father to see the dent in the driver’s side door. It’d lead to questions, and despite her lies of omission, she didn’t want to add an outright lie to the pile.
She supposed she could tell the snake story without mentioning the reason she’d been at Mountain Ridge. But then she’d have to work around Heath’s involvement as well, and that’d add another heavy brick of guilt to manage.
Man, my life’s getting more complicated by the minute.
Chichi squinted at her car, and her heart took off on a high-speed race. Surely he couldn’t see anything from here, but he had this freaky sixth sense. “It looks dirty,” he said. “Make sure you wash it before you take any clients out. I bought it to impress people, not so that you could joyride in it and neglect to properly care for it.”
There was the reminder of why working with him was like walking along the edge of a sword. If you were careful enough, you could keep your balance and only get a few minor nicks, but the tiniest slip and you’d fall on the sharp blade. Right now it felt like she was one wrong step from a slip, which meant it was time to cut and run. “Yes, Chichi. I’ll take better care of it, I promise. Good night.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. Before she could make her getaway, he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
<
br /> “You remember the company mixer next weekend? I ran into Grayson and he didn’t have any idea it was going on. I invited him, Steven, and their father.”
“Oh, Chichi, you didn’t.”
The line of his jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed to steely slits. “Excuse me?”
She shifted from foot to foot, not finding one any better than the other for this conversation. “It’s just that Grayson and I broke up. Didn’t he mention that?”
“Quinn-chan.” Chichi sighed, not bothering to hide his disappointment with his posture or the tone of his voice. “For the first time in your life you managed to be in a respectable relationship. Our families are connected through business, and he told me he couldn’t wait to see you, so you fix it. It reflects badly if you show up alone. It’s not proper.”
“Then I’ll get another date. I’m not going with Grayson.”
Chichi pinched the bridge of his nose. She wanted to blurt out why they’d broken up, but there was the reminder that they were in business together. Now Maya was married to Steven, too, so any fallout affected more than just her. Still, she’d be damned if she’d hang onto Grayson’s arm and act like they were cool. “Just once,” Chichi continued, “it’d be nice if you thought about other people besides yourself.”
He unlocked his car and lowered himself into it before she could respond. Not that she could with the giant lump in her throat. She’d stumbled on the edge of that sword and now she’d hacked off a leg—it certainly felt like it, anyway. Especially since she was trying to think about everyone but herself. It wouldn’t be easy to focus on schmoozing clients as Grayson circled his way around the place and charmed everyone. No one would possibly believe he wasn’t the person he claimed, not when she’d already proven herself as the wild one.
Fighting back tears, she made her way across the parking lot as quickly as she could without running—because proper women didn’t run across parking lots in heels and skirts.
As soon as the door locked behind her, she slumped in her seat. She waited until Chichi pulled out of the parking lot and then threw her car into reverse. The ringing of her phone stopped her from moving, though.
