by Vicki Tharp
“What’s going on?” The wariness in Jenna’s words was unmistakable.
“You two,” he said, “are officially out of the CI business.”
“What?” Quinn said.
“Why?”
“Finn.” Which explained it all right there. St. John’s expression didn’t change, but now that the man was standing closer, Quinn noticed a flush of anger burning low on the lawman’s neck. St. John narrowed his eyes at Jenna. “You.”
She sucked in a breath.
“Jenna,” the sheriff said, “that was the bravest, stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
Apparently, Finn hadn’t taken the news that Jenna had asked Moose if he’d killed Kurt as well as Soto had.
The air whooshed out of her. “Wait, I can explain.”
“No need to explain. You two are done. The task force will find another way in. Looking back at it, it was a bad idea from the start. I’m just thankful you both got out of there unharmed.”
“But—”
“It’s done, Jenna. I can talk to the state. Tell them what we know so far. Tell them we’re investigating Kurt’s death as a homicide. That might appease the state for now.”
Quinn’s chest tightened, a combination of guilt and relief. Relief that Jenna wouldn’t get near Moose ever again. Guilty that he was so happy about that. Guilty that he hadn’t brought Kurt’s killer to justice.
But he could live with that.
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost Jenna, too.
“Come on, babe,” he said. “You’ve got a program to concentrate on.”
The sheriff turned to leave, then stopped and said, “We’ll find out who did this, I promise.”
Quinn stuck out his hand, and the sheriff shook it. “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll be looking forward to that call.”
The sheriff nodded to him and gave a touch of his hat to Jenna.
As the sheriff drove away, Quinn put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. She looked up at him, her lids red-rimmed, and the moisture collected in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I totally screwed up.”
“Hey, hey, hey. None of that.” He rubbed a thumb under her eye and dried her cheeks. “We did what we set out to do. The sheriff is going to find Kurt’s murderer. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but he will.”
“You’re not saying that just to make me feel better, are you?”
He chuckled. “No.” Taking her hand, they started back toward the barn. “Maybe it’s to make me feel better.”
“How so?”
“That call. My CO. She ordered me back to base.”
Jenna stopped, then her hand slipped free and her face fell. “When?” The word came out faintly, like he’d just slammed his shoulder into her solar plexus.
“Fifty hours. Give or take.”
She shook her head as if she couldn’t wrap her head around the number. “You said you had a lot of saved-up leave time.”
“I did. Do. But my squadron got called up.”
“Where?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know yet.”
“Um…wow…” At the barn’s porch, she dropped down onto a bale of hay. Dink jumped up beside her, licking her face. Her fingers sank into his scruff and she absently scratched. Dink’s tongue lolled to the side, uncaring that her attention was subconscious. “I guess you need to start packing.” She dug at a spot on the concrete with the tip of her boot.
He picked her up, plopped himself down on the bale, and sat her back on his lap. Dink curled up in a ball beside them. Lifting her chin with his finger, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I don’t have to leave yet. But soon. Tonight, so I can drive a few hours, and have time to take care of some business before I head out.”
That hand that had so absently stroked Dink now lay on his chest, his heart thudding beneath her touch as she drew lazy circles with the tip of her finger. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Will you call me?”
“If you want me to.”
She nodded, but said, “Only if you do.”
He trapped her hand beneath his. Pressed it to his chest, so there was no way she missed the way his heart beat for her. “I want you to.”
A slow, sad smile curved her lips. It healed and hurt at the same time. She pressed a kiss beneath his jaw, her lips scraping against the scruff he had yet to shave off that morning.
Dink jumped and yipped, tail wagging as Sidney came around the corner of the barn. “There you two are.” She didn’t bother trying to hide her smile.
Jenna went to scramble off his lap, but he held her in place. They didn’t have anything to be ashamed of.
“What’s up?” Quinn asked.
“I wanted a chance to work with you and Vader, if you’ve got time.”
“I don’t think so,” Jenna answered for him. “He got called back to base and—”
“I’d love to.” The words dropped out of his mouth before he realized he was going to say them, but yeah, there was something about that horse. One more training session might not make a difference.
But then again it might.
* * * *
Quinn turned himself into a giant, human-sized currycomb.
“That’s it, just like that. Keep rubbing him,” Sidney said from the edge of the round pen.
He was laid flat out along Vader’s spine, his arms draped over either side of the horse’s neck, Quinn’s legs crossed at his ankles and balancing on the horse’s rump.
Following Sidney’s instructions, he ran his hands up and down the horse’s neck, shoulders, girth area. The idea was for the horse to accept weight on his back while being touched on both sides. An important step in desensitizing before the horse would be ready to ride.
Vader bobbed his head and twitched his lips when Quinn found a particularly itchy area. Horse hair worked its way through his shirt, making his T-shirt feel like it had been dipped in poison ivy, but they were making incredible progress, so he wasn’t stopping now.
“Now inch your way back, rub his belly and flanks, hang your legs off his rump. If you find a spot he doesn’t like you touching, that’s the place we want to work on.”
So far, the flanks had been Vader’s most sensitive spot. It took some time until he no longer flinched when touched there. Now here Quinn was, lying on top of a thousand pounds of prey animal that not long ago wouldn’t let anyone touch him. A horse that had been given one last chance…
…and Quinn felt it.
That heavy sigh.
That moment when Vader gave up? Gave in? No, that wasn’t what had happened. It felt more like acceptance, a realization that Vader no longer needed to protect himself. That it was okay to be vulnerable. That these people meant him no harm.
It was heady stuff.
Quinn had done that.
Quinn had made a life-altering difference in this horse’s life.
Him.
A grin split Quinn’s face. And in that hiccup of time, all the guilt, all the grief, all the pain, all the anger, wasn’t so oppressive, so overpowering.
“That’s it,” Sidney said. “Hop off. That’s the perfect place to quit for the day.”
Quinn slid off, rubbed Vader on his forehead, then glanced around. The sky seemed more blue, the clouds fluffier, the grass greener, the mountains…the mountains, both real and imagined, not so impossible to climb.
That big, beautiful animal had shown him that it was okay to let go.
Sidney and Jenna walked over. He handed the rope to Sidney, then pulled Jenna into his arms and swung her around, planting a smacking kiss on her lips.
“What was that for?” Jenna said through her grin.
“I get it now.”
Jenna kicked her feet, and he set her back down.
“Get what?”
“This. Here. The horses. Your program
. Everything. I thought I understood what you were doing, but I don’t think I did. Till now. You can’t let the state shut you down. Too many people need this. Need you. I’m so damn proud of you.”
Before, he hadn’t understood the impact Jenna’s dream would have on others’ lives. All he’d cared about was what he’d wanted.
Selfish.
Hank had been so right. But Jenna was better than that. She’d seen what others, what he, couldn’t.
She smiled up at him, and the look in her eyes, even through her tears, wrapped his heart in a bear hug. His throat got tight. She cupped his face and kissed him. Soft and passionate. Spirited and poignant. No one had ever made him feel like this, neither before or since. Feel that he was so special, just by being.
Walking away from her had made him a fool.
* * * *
Jenna paced back and forth in front of Quinn’s cabin. He was inside packing. She should leave him alone. Dink lay by the cabin door and whined. What. Was. She. Doing?
She turned to go back to the big house. Better she didn’t interrupt. Quinn needed to get his head on straight before his deployment. He didn’t need her in his head and shifting his focus. It wasn’t like there was anything between them.
But there could be.
I want there to be.
Didn’t mean it was going to happen.
“Come on, Dink.” She kept her voice down. His windows were open, and she didn’t want Quinn to know that she’d been there. She motioned with her hand, but Dink looked away. “Dink!” she hissed.
The cabin door opened and Quinn stuck his head out. Dink trotted into the cabin between his legs. Traitor.
“Hey, what’s going on out here?”
“Nothing. I was just wondering if you needed any help packing.” Or undressing. “But I don’t want to be in the way.”
He opened the door farther. His hair was damp, and he wore nothing but jeans and boots and bruises. At the sight of his battered chest, her heart sank heavy against her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
“I’m basically done, but come on in.”
Her stomach went flip-flop-splat, like a sucky gymnast. She glanced back up the road like there was something vitally important back there. “I should be getting back…”
Yeah, because sitting in your room feeling sorry for yourself is such a productive use of your time.
“When do you have to leave to pick up Pepita?”
She glanced at her watch. Four o’clock. “Not for a couple of hours.”
He smiled, slow and lazy and tempting. “Then stay.”
The walk up the steps, across the porch, and over the threshold was a slow, arduous odyssey. The object in the pocket of her hoodie burned in her hands like the One Ring. Only it wasn’t her life she was in danger of losing. It was something much more precious—her heart.
Not that Quinn necessarily wanted it.
But she was afraid she’d given it to him anyway.
He closed the door behind her, his gear all neatly packed beside the bed, Dink curled up on his pillow. On the table, he had all the fixings for sandwiches laid out. “You hungry?”
She shook the tension from her hands. “No, you go ahead.”
Picking up the knife, he spread mayo and mustard on his bread and stacked the lunch meat thick.
“Your arm is looking good.”
He glanced down at his right arm. The scabs were healing well. Disfigured but functional, and she figured that was all that really mattered to him. “Feels good, too.” He flexed and extended his fingers. “I think all that chopping wood has helped my grip strength.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
He slapped on the top piece of bread, glancing up at her from beneath his lashes. “You’re going to break the chair if you keep that up.”
She glanced at the death grip her hands had on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Her knuckles were white, her palms damp.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“I thought we’d talked about this. About being honest with each other.” He brought the sandwich to his mouth and took a hearty bite.
Why had she agreed to that? She reached into her pocket, ran her thumb across the edges of the box as she spun it in her hand.
Chicken.
She gripped the box of condoms and dropped it on the table in front of him.
He choked mid-chew and dropped the sandwich onto the plate. He pounded a hand to his chest, swallowing hard, as if all the moisture had left his mouth. “Holy hell,” he sputtered. “Give a guy some warning.”
She reached out to take it back, embarrassment burning her cheeks, the tips of her ears. Bad, bad, bad idea. Right up there with smoking in a fireworks factory and putting mustard on ice cream.
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. “What’s that all about?”
No one ever got what they wanted without going after it. Wanting Quinn was no different. But what if you don’t get him?
She knew what not having him felt like. Painful. Awful. Regrettable. Now she wanted to know what it was like to have him. She straightened. “I’m ready.”
Quinn’s eyes softened, and the warmth of his exhale brushed her skin. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressed his lips to hers. Tender, touching, teasing. His tongue traced her lips, and she opened for him, their tongues meeting, mating. She went to pull him closer, but he broke the kiss and took a step back.
Was this when he told her he didn’t want her? “If you don’t want me, it’s okay.”
He shook his head as if she’d been speaking Klingon and he didn’t understand a word of it. “No, it’s not that at all.”
He ran his fingers down her arms and took her hands. “It’s just that I’m leaving and I have no idea when I can visit next.”
“I know that.”
“And if I get my wings back, there will be more training, more missions, more deployments.”
“You trying to talk me out of it?”
He chuckled. “I’m not that stupid.”
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“If we don’t work out…”
“Are we trying to work out?”
“I thought so. I hoped so. I was an idiot. My proposal was ill thought out, out of line. I see now how selfish I was, thinking you should drop everything to be with me and my dreams. That’s not how life, a partnership, is supposed to work. I don’t know how things will be different now. You will be here. I will be there, but…”
He hugged her up against him and tucked her under his chin and held her tight. His heart beat thunderous and strong beneath her ear. “There’s a reason why you haven’t slept with anybody so far, and I don’t want you regretting making love with me.”
She stepped back because she wanted to see his face, touched by his openness, his stark vulnerability. And when she did, she knew she’d made the right decision. “I’d always wanted you to be my first. I guess I never got over that. My only regret would be if it never happens. If it isn’t you.”
A slow smile spread across his lips as her words sank in deeper and deeper. He picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
With a hand under her ass to keep her from falling, he swept all the lunch fixings off the table. Luckily the condiment jars were plastic and the microwaveable plate indestructible.
Dink scarfed the sandwich as Quinn set her on the table, then went in for a kiss. Before he could take it any further, Dink whined and scratched at the door.
“Hold that thought.” Quinn hurried over and let the dog out. Returning, he said, “Now, where was I?”
Jenna’s eyes went straight to his bare chest. The slash of blues and blacks and greens and yellows, painted like a bolt of bruised lightni
ng across his torso. The thick slabs of pectoral muscle, the peaks and valleys of his abdomen, the sexy trail of hair that started below his navel and dove down beneath his waistband…
Reaching up, she traced the edge of the bruise all the way across his chest to his ribs. He flinched and caught her hand.
“Sorry. Did that hurt?”
“No, it tickled.” He pulled her off the table, and said, “Grab the box.”
She palmed the box and handed it to him. He tossed it onto the bed. “Because this is all new to you, you may not realize this, but you have way too many clothes on for this to work properly.”
“Well, you being the expert and all, why don’t you show me how I should handle this seemingly insurmountable problem.”
His grin flashed, one dimple at a time, and his eyes lit with delight and desire. He toed out of his boots and socks, unfastened his jeans, and shucked them and his underwear off in one quick motion. He tossed the clothes in the corner and stood before her, completely naked, completely aroused, completely unabashed. “Your turn.”
“Do I…?” She made a motion with her hand like she was whipping off the tablecloth from beneath a set table.
He took a step closer. “Unless you need help?”
By that dark look in his eyes, if he helped, her clothes were unlikely to still be intact and not shredded when he’d finished. “I’ve got it.”
One by one, she popped the snaps on her western shirt, his eyes narrowing, his breath becoming more shallow as she went. She let her shirt drop to the floor, then reached up for the front clasp of her bra and let it fall, too.
He sucked in a breath between his teeth as if hit with equal parts pleasure and pain. He reached for her, and she batted his hand away, kicking her boots off and grabbing for the button on her jeans.
She hesitated. This was it. No turning back.
He touched her hand, and said, “If you want to stop, at any point, at any time, for any reason, you tell me. You got that?”
“Is this when I’m supposed to tell you my safe word?”
His mouth dropped open. “Umm…I… Uh…”
“Kidding,” she said, though the dark smolder in his eyes intrigued her. And then she went for it.
She dropped her pants and her panties, pulled up her pride, and stood before him bare. Raw. Vulnerable. Her hands wanted to cross over her chest, to cup her sex, to hide. But she made her arms hang at her sides instead, and let him take her in.
