Maverick Montana [2] Under the Covers

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Quinn slid an arm around Juliet’s shoulders and smiled at Jake. “Your daughter is going to be a dangerous woman someday.”

  “I hope so.” Jake handed Sophie a glass of ginger ale.

  The governor and Amy wandered up. He puffed out his chest, and his big belly pushed out the red flannel. “Did you hear about Bennington?”

  Quinn slowly turned his head. “What about Bennington?”

  “He’s withdrawing from the sheriff’s race.” Amy’s eyes lit with glee. “A scandal.”

  Quinn’s gut clenched.

  Miles and Shelley Lansing wandered up. “Did I hear scandal?” Shelley asked.

  “Yes.” The governor leaned closer to the group, a sly smile on his face. “Apparently his wife has been growing marijuana in the basement. Five plants.”

  Quinn frowned. “The plants are medicinal, right? I mean, didn’t old Mr. Bennington, her father, have cancer?”

  The governor shrugged. “I don’t care the reason. A candidate can’t be breaking the law and growing pot. The news outlets found out about it, and it’s over.”

  It was almost too obvious how the reporters found out. Quinn studied the governor. The question was, how had the governor found out?

  Juliet set down her wineglass. “Why would Bennington have to withdraw from the race if his wife was the one breaking the law?”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “Really? A candidate must only associate with lawful people, or he has poor judgment. It’s the poor judgment, not the pot growing, that will bring down Bennington.”

  “Oh,” Juliet said, reaching to fiddle with her pendant. “How unfortunate.”

  Colton slid an arm around Loni’s shoulders. “Mom? Let’s dance.” He grabbed her and spun her onto the dance floor.

  Sophie slipped her arm through Quinn’s. “Juliet, do you mind if I dance with my big brother?”

  “Go ahead. Just be careful—he likes to lead.” Juliet smiled.

  “Yes, I do.” Quinn directed his statement at the redhead, while leading his sister-in-law onto the dance floor. Juliet blushed, and he chuckled.

  The outside door opened, and two men stepped inside. He didn’t know them. Both had riding clothes on, but one of them wore boat shoes. He looked closer. The guy with boat shoes had bloodshot eyes and a red nose.

  Quinn caught Jake’s eye.

  Chapter Eight

  Juliet enjoyed watching Quinn spin Sophie around on the dance floor. She tightened her hand around the wineglass. Her first and only for the day. A lady never had more than one drink, never leaned against anything, and always smiled in social situations. Her mother had drummed such rules into her head from an early age, and even now, she couldn’t help but follow them.

  Amy leaned against the bar. “So, you and Quinn, huh?”

  Juliet kept the smile in place. “Your boots are lovely, Amy.”

  Amy glanced down. “Oh, yeah. They’re from New York.” She glanced up, her eyes sparking. “You know, where you said you visited once in a while.”

  “Yes. I know where New York is.” Juliet ignored the trickle of unease wandering along her shoulders.

  “Good, but you’re not from the city, right?” Amy’s smile flashed too many teeth.

  “No.” Juliet glanced for an escape from the blonde.

  “Politics is a messy business.” Amy reached for another drink from the bartender.

  Juliet took a sip. “Good thing Quinn isn’t in politics. He just wants to be the sheriff to do his job and protect people.”

  “What will he do if he loses?” Amy gulped her drink.

  Juliet’s face might go into tremors if she smiled any longer. “Quinn won’t lose. He’s an excellent lawman.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see.” Amy leaned closer. “Our investigators haven’t discovered anything about you yet, but they just started looking.” With a smirk, she wandered away.

  Juliet’s throat dried. If her past came out, the news would hurt Quinn. Panicked, she glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at her.

  His focus was on the door.

  Two men stood barely inside, their gazes sweeping the area. One wiped his nose on his sleeve. Then he touched the other guy’s shoulder and jerked his head toward the bar. The other guy’s hands shook, and he sniffed loudly.

  Jake grasped her elbow. “Juliet? Please get Sophie and my mom to the restroom.” Jake smiled, but the grin didn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

  An urgency rode his tone and shot butterflies into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, who gave her an encouraging nod. Numbly, she smiled and glided across the dance floor. Somehow, she gathered both Loni and Sophie on the way.

  Sophie leaned in. “What’s going on? Quinn sent me to the restroom with you.”

  “I don’t know.” Juliet glanced over her shoulder. “Head toward the bathroom, and I’ll find out.”

  “I think you’re supposed to come, too.”

  Yeah, but she might be the problem. While Juliet didn’t recognize the guys at the door, that didn’t mean they didn’t recognize her. “I’ll be fine. You’re pregnant—get to safety. I’ll come get you once I figure out why Quinn is on alert.”

  They reached the doorway to the restrooms, and Juliet waited to make sure Sophie and Loni headed inside before turning back around. She tried to appear casual, forcing herself to relax against the wall as if waiting for her friend. Her heart thundered, and her mouth went dry. If anybody was hurt because of her, she’d never forgive herself.

  The two guys had reached the bar, probably unaware Quinn and his brothers flanked them. Quinn motioned Colton to the side and angled closer to the really twitchy guy.

  Juliet frowned. Why was the guy twitching so much? He looked like he was coming down from a bad high.

  Quinn wasn’t armed, darn it. Why didn’t he have a gun? Didn’t most off-duty cops have an off-duty piece? Hopefully, he had a gun tucked in his boot.

  The twitchy guy swiveled, big silver gun drawn.

  A gasp rippled through the crowd.

  Juliet stood up straight. Whatever instincts had told Quinn the newcomers might be dangerous were excellent. She widened her stance. Nobody was getting between her and the bathroom door, gun or not.

  The guy with the gun pointed the barrel right at Quinn. “Back off.”

  Quinn held his hands out, stepping away a foot, shifting his body between the man and Juliet. That probably wasn’t an accident. “What do you want?”

  “Money.” His hand shaking, the guy nodded to his friend. “This is a fund-raiser, and we want the money.”

  “Okay,” Quinn said, his voice low and soothing. “Barney, give this guy whatever’s in the till.”

  The bartender nodded, his skinny chin wobbling as he hit the cash register and the drawer slid out.

  The second guy threw a bag at Barney, and he started filling it.

  The first guy laughed, showing yellowed teeth. “This is a fund-raiser, man. We want all the money, not only the bar money.”

  Jake somehow edged closer to the second guy without seeming to move his feet. “The tickets were purchased weeks ago. The only money here in the lodge is at the bar, and you have that.”

  Quinn nodded. “Take the cash and leave.”

  The gunman’s face turned a mottled red. His hand shook more. “There’s no more money?” he yelled.

  Jake shook his head. “Nope.”

  The guy focused on Jake for the briefest of seconds.

  That was all Quinn needed. Faster than a whip and just as deadly, he struck out, grabbing the guy by the wrist and lifting his gun hand. An elbow to the gut, a stomp to the ankle, and the guy went down.

  Quinn yanked the gun free.

  Jake took care of the second guy with a quick punch to the nose. The guy crashed to the ground, blood spurting.

  Colton groaned. “I didn’t get to hit anybody.”

  The guy on the floor lunged up, and Colton nailed him with a sweeping sidekick to the face. The gunman smashed into the bar.


  “That’s better.” Colton grinned, dusting his hands together.

  Quinn didn’t break a smile. Instead, he removed his cell phone from his pocket and called it in.

  Juliet’s legs wobbled. She grabbed the wall to steady herself.

  Quinn said something that had Jake nodding. Then Quinn’s long strides ate up the distance between them. “Juliet? You’re pale, sweetheart. Come and sit down.”

  The kind tone shot tears to her eyes. “How did they get here?”

  He frowned and turned toward the men. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I thought a black SUV followed us to the base of the mountain, but I wasn’t sure. Were they in a black SUV?” She shivered. When had the room gotten so cold?

  Sirens echoed in the distance. Quinn slid an arm around her shoulders and gently led her to a chair. “Darlin’, deep breaths. You’re going into shock, and I need you to hold it together.”

  She nodded.

  Two deputies rushed in from outside.

  Quinn leaned down to check her face. “I have to give them orders. Are you okay for a few minutes?”

  “Yes.” She inhaled.

  He brushed a kiss on the top of her head and turned to deal with the deputies. Juliet’s hands shook. She glanced around at the stunned partygoers. Lansing and his wife cringed in the far corner. Some sheriff he’d turn out to be.

  The deputies handcuffed the robbers. Jake hustled toward the back bathroom to fetch his wife and mother.

  Time flew by, or maybe she zoned out for a little while. Finally, Quinn dropped to his haunches in front of her. “I had my deputies bring my truck, so I can take you home. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

  She stood and leaned against him, still in a daze. Within minutes she was bundled up in his truck, seat belt secured, a heavy blanket warming her, while Quinn drove down the mountain. Rain peppered the windows. She swallowed. “Do you have to go process those guys—or interrogate them—or whatever?”

  “No.” Quinn flipped on the windshield wipers. “My deputies can handle the situation. Tonight is my night off, and I’m taking it.”

  “Oh.” She snuggled under the blanket. “How did you know they were going to rob the lodge?”

  “I didn’t.” Quinn glanced in the rear-view mirror. “But the first guy shook like he needed a fix, and I trusted my gut.”

  “They were on drugs?”

  “Yes. Small town problems are no longer a marijuana plant or Peeping Tom. Now we have meth, drug running, and robberies. To get more money for drugs.”

  “Any chance those guys will get treatment?”

  “I don’t know. They pulled a gun on innocent people, so they should be behind bars. For quite some time,” he said quietly.

  Why did he have to be so black and white? She sighed.

  He smiled at her. “I appreciate you trusting Jake and getting Sophie out of the way.”

  “Of course.” Though, in reality, she’d looked at Quinn before moving. “You were really impressive.”

  “Those guys were morons. Don’t be too impressed.”

  But she was. The way he’d put himself in danger, how quickly he’d disarmed the bad guy impressed her. The rainstorm raged around them, yet Quinn remained a solid island in a dangerous storm. “I like you, Quinn,” she said quietly.

  He flashed her a surprised look. “I like you, too. Feeling a bit vulnerable, sweetheart?”

  Man, he could read her. “Yes.”

  “I won’t let anybody hurt you. Ever.” The quiet vow emerged deep and guttural.

  No, but she’d hurt him. Quinn Lodge wasn’t a man you lied to, and she could never undo what she’d done. “I wish we’d met years ago.”

  He reached over and smoothed the hair off her forehead. “The robbers drove a small compact to the lodge and not a SUV. Why did you think you were being followed? Did something spook you?”

  Wow. Talk about foolish. “It’s silly. I had a prank call, then went outside and my imagination ran away.” She picked a loose string on the blanket. “Overactive imagination here.”

  “What kind of a prank call?”

  “Just a goofy hang-up.” Now she’d created problems where none existed.

  He leaned forward to peer through the storm. “I can run your phone number, if you want.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No, that’s okay. It’s silly.”

  “All right. But if it happens again, promise you’ll tell me this time.” His jaw firmed.

  “I promise.” Her gaze dropped to his capable hands on the steering wheel. Broad, rough, those hands could bring a lot of pleasure.

  As if he could read her mind, he tangled his fingers with hers. “How would you like to spend the night tonight?”

  Her heart leaped. The town bachelor, the sexy sheriff nobody could catch, was offering her intimacy. Pleasure coursed through her to be quickly dashed by icy reality. Every time they were together, she came that much closer to blurting out the truth—and that she’d lied to him. But she couldn’t help herself. She wanted this. Wanted him. “You want me to stay the entire night?”

  “Yes. The whole night.”

  Chapter Nine

  Juliet settled into the overstuffed chair in Quinn’s family room, her gaze on the sparking fire, her hand around the stem of a wineglass. Wild oil paintings covered the walls, and masculine leather furniture decorated the room. “I don’t usually drink more than one glass of wine.”

  Quinn set another piece of wood on the fire, the muscles of his back shifting nicely. He stood, grabbed his beer, and dropped into a matching chair. “Why not?”

  Her limbs felt heavy. “My mother. She had specific rules about how lady should act.”

  “Hmmm.” He tipped back his head and swallowed, and the cords in his neck moved with the effort. Sexy and male. “I know from Sophie that your parents have passed on. Was your mother a society-type lady?”

  “Yes. Well, she wanted to be.” Fond memories lifted Juliet’s lips in a smile, and then she grimaced. “My real father was a drunk, and I remember a lot of yelling. My mother divorced him and remarried a man with money, and she started climbing the social ladder. Somewhat.” Considering Juliet’s stepfather was a criminal, her mother could climb only so far. But she gave the journey a great shot. “She died of breast cancer four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” Quinn’s eyes softened in the flickering firelight.

  A hard man with soft eyes. Dangerous. Way too dangerous to her heart.

  She sipped the cool wine. “How did your father die?”

  “A snowmobile accident when I was six and Jake was eight.”

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.”

  “Me, too.”

  “He was full Kooskia, like your mother?”

  “Yes.” Quinn leaned forward on his elbows. “Is your stepfather still alive?”

  “No. He died of liver failure two years ago.” While she’d never respected his job, he’d been kind to her, and she missed him. “I’m alone now.”

  “No, you’re not.” Quinn leaned back and stretched out his legs. “I promise. You’re not alone.”

  Thunder bellowed outside. The wind whistled angrily above the sound of pelting rain.

  Juliet studied the sheriff. The flickering light wandered over his angled face, highlighting his predatory features. Shadows danced along the angles, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be his. Even if it was only for the night. She wanted to belong with the sheriff.

  Very gently, she placed her wineglass on the table. She folded the blanket and laid the thick cotton on the chair. Her gaze on the quiet man, she crossed the room and dropped to her knees. His thighs pressed in on her shoulders.

  His dark eyes darkened further. “What are you doing?” Low, rough, his voice caressed her skin until a fire sparked inside her.

  “Taking you.” She unbuckled his belt and pulled the heavy leather free of his jeans. The buckle clanked when she dropped it to the floor. “Lose the shirt.”

  Keeping her g
aze, he yanked off the shirt. Powerful muscles shifted.

  She swallowed. “I adore your chest.” Ignoring all decorum, she crawled right up on his lap, her thighs bracketing his. Three round scars dotted his left shoulder, and she leaned over to kiss each one. “What are these?”

  “Bullet holes.”

  She stilled, her heart catching. “Oh.” She kissed them again. Then her mouth wandered to a long, diagonal scar across his left pec and rib cage. “And this?”

  “Knife.” His voice lowered.

  “I’m sorry.” Deep down, something ached for him. She sat up. Her fingers tapped a jagged scar wrapped around his bicep. “What in the world?”

  “Barbed wire when I was a kid.” He shrugged. “Rode my bike where I shouldn’t have.”

  “You’ve had a rough life.” She caressed the raised flesh.

  “I’m feeling pretty good right now.” His eyelids dropped to half-mast. “Is it my turn yet?”

  Captured by his tone, she nodded.

  “Good.” He reached behind her neck and undid her necklaces, placing them on the table. Her earrings were next. “This jewelry is pretty.”

  “The pieces are Celtic—Irish trinity knots,” she whispered, her voice going hoarse.

  He slid his hands under her wispy shirt, his palms on her flesh, his knuckles raising the material over her head. “I’ve never seen a woman more feminine than you.”

  Hard and fast, the sheriff was sexy. Slow and thoughtful, he was downright devastating.

  “Feminine, not fragile.” She inhaled his strong scent of male and pine.

  He traced her clavicle with calloused fingers. “Fragile, too.” His gaze stayed on his fingers as he flicked open her bra and smoothed the straps down her arms.

  She blinked, exposed to him.

  “You’re beautiful, Juliet,” he breathed, hands palming her breasts.

  “I’ve never felt like this.” He made her feel beautiful.

  His dimple flashed. “Every once in a while, you’re completely bare. Saying what you feel without holding back.” His hands firmed, and he lifted his gaze. “That’s how I want you tonight.”