by Stacy Gail
Crazy, because she didn’t belong in Montana. Scary, because she’d never intended to come to Montana. It hadn’t even crossed her mind. But there she was, kissing a man in a place she’d never meant to be, feeling things about that man she’d never intended to feel.
But it went deeper even than that.
In that moment, staring into his eyes, she couldn’t stand the thought of being anywhere else.
“Oh, crap,” she whispered, so softly she almost didn’t hear it. She knew Quinn did though, if his smile was any indication before he dragged his attention away from her to look over her shoulder. The warmth of his smile was quickly eclipsed by a contempt so withering it made Mia inwardly cringe.
“Lorette, what this shit is, is pretty fucking obvious and also none of your business. What isn’t obvious is what the hell you’re doing here. You must have a goddamn screw loose showing up at private family get-together like you think you’ve got a right to be here. Seriously, who does that? What the fuck is your malfunction?”
“My malfunction? What the fuck is yours, playing grab-ass with some pathetic freeloader that doesn’t know when to fucking leave?”
Ouch.
Mia winced as the jab made a direct hit, but Quinn didn’t seem to notice as his lip curled in a snarl while Elise and Brody closed in. “You’re the one who doesn’t know when to fucking leave, bitch. I want you out. Now.”
“I don’t think so.” She stuck out a curvy hip in a full-tilt attitude pose and jammed a hand on it, her pointed acrylic nails done in a neon yellow French mani that looked like teeny spiked weapons to Mia. “I came here to talk things out with you, and I’m not leaving until you give me a little one-on-one time so I can explain things. You owe me that much.”
“He owes you?” Brody wore the same sneer that Quinn did, and in that moment Mia could finally see the resemblance between the two brothers. “Shit, Quinn’s right, you do have a fucking screw loose. Though I’d pretty much guessed that.”
“You dropped me without saying a fucking word—one day you were there, the next you were a ghost, all because you could no longer be the queen of Hot Ice Casino and claim to be one of the casino Kingfishers,” Quinn went on with a disgusted shake of his head. “The one and only time we’ve spoken in two fucking years, you told me that when I walked away from Hot Ice to build my dream, I was no longer interesting to you.”
Oh, that bitch, Mia thought, eyes narrowing dangerously. That unbelievable, self-centered bitch.
Lorette shifted to jut out her other hip, clearly unembarrassed and somehow managing to look like she was the wronged one. “I thought you were making a huge mistake with your life, okay? I was looking out for you because I cared so damn much about you and your future. I was hoping you’d rethink your move if I gave you a wake-up call about everything you were walking away from—like me.”
“Oh, you sure as hell gave me a wake-up call, and thank God for it. I woke up to the fact that you’re a drop of poison, you didn’t give a shit that I was fucking miserable working in a place where I never got a fresh breath of air, and that the only thing you’re truly loyal to is the idea of getting your hooks into a casino Kingfisher. Since I’m obviously not one of those anymore, I’ve got no fucking clue why you’re here now, spouting shit about wanting to talk one-on-one and me owing you.”
“Let me help you with that, dude.” The short-haired, lanky man that had come up with Brody and Jase stepped forward with a pseudo-helpful air, and Mia tried not to shiver at the sound of his rich baritone with a faint purr around the edges. “Garth got tired of her constant nagging about shacking up together, so he cut her loose. Then word spread that you were kicking ass out here on Whiteout, so I think she got it into her head that being queen of the mountain was almost as good as being queen of the casinos. At least she’d still be a Kingfisher, rather than the nobody she’s always been. Sound about right, Lorette?”
Lorette flicked her luxurious hair back to give him a scorching look. “Shut up, West. What do you know about women?”
Olivia surged forward, hand raised. “Say that again, bitch.”
“Babe, don’t.” Thomas caught her around the waist and hauled her back.
“That’s enough,” Elise said in a tone Mia had never heard from her, and the way both Quinn and Brody shifted made her suspect that this was Elise’s official “Mom” voice. “No one invited you to this gathering, Lorette, and I’m embarrassed by your behavior in front of a valued family friend. I think it’s time you left.”
Lorette turned her attention to Elise. “’Valued family friend?’ Are you kidding me? Her? This redheaded leech is trying to ingratiate herself with all of you here at Whiteout as a way to get to the heart of the Kingfisher family.”
“Shut the fuck up, Lorette,” Quinn snarled while Mia went rigid in his arms.
“Yeah, don’t mistake Mia for you,” Olivia chimed in, sounding just as dangerous. “Mia’s from freaking Chicago. She’d never even heard of the Kingfishers until she got to Whiteout Mountain.”
“Well, that’s not completely true,” Mia said, trying to lighten the mood when her own chest felt too tight and her face was stiff with carefully bottled outrage and—though she didn’t want to admit it—humiliation that there might have been a grain of truth to what Lorette said. Maybe she had overstayed her welcome at Whiteout, and everyone was too polite to tell her to leave.
But she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had to try and get that murderous look out of Quinn’s eyes, because it cut at her somewhere deep inside to see him that upset.
Olivia blinked. “Uh, what?”
“That’s right.” She pointedly turned her back to Lorette and focused on Quinn because it sweetened her mood to not give that woman the attention she was obviously craving. “By the time I got to Whiteout Mountain, I knew that you, Brody and West were basketball players, that you had won four consecutive state championships, and that you were MVP during your senior year. If memory also serves, someone named Devlin Kingfisher was the quarterback for Honey Pot High. He led them to their district finals and had a record-breaking game which they still lost, because apparently there was no defensive game to be had. I can sympathize, because I’m a diehard, screaming-at-the-television, popcorn-throwing Chicago Bears and Cubbies fan,” she added, grimacing. “Let’s see, what else? Thomas Crenna made the papers when he won a spot on the Olympic ski team in both the Downhill and Super-G events. And I believe your mother—Elise Elizabeth Muir—played volleyball throughout the entire four years she was in high school, while your father—Jason, I’m assuming?—lettered in both basketball and volleyball, yes?”
“What the hell?” came Thomas’s baffled voice while somebody else muttered, “Holy shit.” Quinn, however, just grinned and tightened his arms around her, and she was relieved to see the dangerous darkness in his eyes melt into that sweet and dreamy indigo blue she enjoyed so much.
“You got it, Red. As usual, your memory’s perfect.”
“So it’s not totally accurate to say I knew nothing about your family.” She smiled into his eyes and looped her arms around his neck. “I was well aware that you were all very good at high school sports. But beyond that, I promise I’m no social-climbing gold-digger who no longer finds you interesting because you’ve left some casino. I happen to find you incredibly interesting. Without a doubt, you’re the ballsiest man I’ve ever met. I’m a little in awe of you because you’re brave enough to forge your own path and not care what anyone else thinks. You’re a man who never gives up, and that means you’re a man who will never know the meaning of defeat.”
“What the hell did you say, bitch?” Lorette’s voice was a dangerous hiss.
Since Mia had a strong policy of not feeding the trolls, she didn’t even glance at the other woman. “Now, I don’t know about you, but since we didn’t have our usual cup of coffee and bacon this morning, I’m starving. How about we—”
That was as far as she got.
A growl came from
behind her before her hair was viciously yanked, snapping her head back so fast her neck popped and she saw stars. Yells erupted and an arm like a steel band gripped her hard when she would have fallen backward. Then she was shoved unceremoniously behind Quinn while her hands shot to her head to search for what she feared would be a massive, bleeding bald patch.
Ow, ow, ow…
“You rabid bitch.” Mia opened eyes she couldn’t remember closing to see Quinn finishing up the process of shoving Lorette backwards. Jase caught her before she fell onto her ass, though from the look on his face, he would have been happy to see how well she bounced. “You stay the fuck away from Mia, or I swear to God I’ll throw you out the nearest goddamn window, you hear me?” Quinn raged, and she was positive everyone within a mile could hear him since he was yelling his freaking head off. “I told you to get out of here, so get… the fuck… out.”
“You heard what she called me, right? I was defending myself!”
Quinn was all but vibrating with fury, and he made a dangerous move toward her. “You won’t leave? Fine, I’ll fucking make you—”
“Boom, stop.” Reassured that she wasn’t bleeding to death and her hair was still more or less where it should be, Mia caught him around the waist from behind and held on. “Though technically speaking, state law would probably be on your side from this point on, up to and including shooting her. But I still don’t want you to lower yourself to this person’s level. You’re better than that.”
Lorette made another growling noise. This time it made Mia dart a wary glance her way, only to find both Jase and Thomas had her clamped down, while Brody had come to stand partially between Lorette and where she and Quinn stood. “Who the hell does this bitch think she is? Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Mia Flowers,” she said flatly, the pain in her scalp receding to drain into a well of anger, while the throb in her neck fed it. “The woman you just assaulted without provocation after being told to leave a privately owned property. The woman who will press charges against you for simple assault, a misdemeanor in most states. But I think I’ll also shoot for aggravated assault, since you went to all the trouble of trespassing onto this private property, ignored the various orders to vacate, and eventually attacked a person who’s allowed to be here. That’s no better than breaking into someone’s home and attacking them, and in case you didn’t know, aggravated assault is a felony.” She was pretty sure she’d never be able to get that since no weapon was used, but it sounded good, if Lorette’s widening eyes were any indication, so she rolled with it. “An assault like that will land you behind bars for years, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. You were made for the color orange. You’ll wear it like a boss.”
“What the fuck,” Lorette said faintly, staring at her as if she’d just dropped out of a passing UFO. “I didn’t do anything like that.”
“Oh, but you did, and I have a room full of witnesses to verify it. Honestly, I’m surprised by your denial. Only an idiot would believe they could violently attack a person without there being any consequences.”
“That pretty much explains it,” Olivia muttered, and her husband snorted.
“You’ve always been a spoiled brat, throwing fucking tantrums whenever you didn’t get your way.” Quinn stood like a statue with Mia clutching him from behind, before he half turned and curled a protective arm around her. “God help me, I used to think that shit was cute, but it got old fast, and now just looking at you fills me with disgust. What the fuck was I thinking, wasting my time on a selfish brat like you?”
“You weren’t thinking—not with your brain, anyway,” Brody muttered.
Quinn made a harsh, impatient sound. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“I can’t believe you said that.” Like a switch being thrown, Lorette went from hellion to victim, and her eyes filled with tears that spilled over with shocking suddenness. Mia had to admit, she did a bang-up job of painting a shattered-woman portrait. “Think of all we meant to each other, sweetness. Think of everything we’ve been through together.”
“Together?” The contempt that dripped off of Quinn’s tone made Mia want to hide. “I made money, you spent it. If that’s the togetherness you’re popping off about, then yeah. I remember it. So does my bank account.”
She shook her glossy head, her face puckering in what Mia suspected was a precursor to an all-out fit of blubbering. “What we had was good. Together we were a team, remember? We took care of each other. I took care of you.”
“Excuse me, dear, but I simply must call bullshit on that.” Mia tried to keep her mouth shut, but damn it, that was a sore spot for her. Not only did she want to head off the tears that any woman could tell were as phony as a ten-dollar Louis Vuitton handbag, but she wasn’t about to let this hair-pulling wench dress up inexcusable actions as some weird brand of loyalty. No way. “When a woman takes care of her man, she does everything she can think of to make his life easier, not harder. See the difference?”
Lorette dropped the tears long enough to shoot her a poisonous look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, bitch, so stay the hell out of it.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I know exactly what it is to support a man and his dreams, as does any woman in this room who’s done just that.”
“Amen,” Mia heard an older female voice say.
Lorette’s lush mouth tightened. “Shut the hell—”
“Sister to sister, let me tell you how it goes when you support the man in your life, since you clearly don’t know. If there’s something troubling your man, it troubles you too, to the point where you can’t sleep at night for thinking about him. You smooth his way as best you can. If the rest of the world abandons him, you don’t abandon him too. You become a safe harbor for him that’s warm and welcoming and something he can count on, no matter how bad the storms get. If you have to make sacrifices for him, it’ll be worth it down the road because you’ve made sure your man is happy, and a happy man does the exact same thing for you. But you? You did none of these things. You vanished on Quinn when he needed you the most. He saw an opportunity when this property went up for sale, and had both the far-thinking vision and the epic balls to turn a lifelong dream into an amazing reality that’s going to breathe new life and new interest—and certainly a shit-ton of new money—into this part of the world, something everyone here is going to benefit from. And he did it virtually alone,” she added, and for the life of her she couldn’t stop her furious gaze from sliding to Brody and Jase, “because no one believed in Quinn, except Quinn. But he’s so strong in heart and strong in will, that the belief in himself is all he needs. The one thing he doesn’t need is you,” she added, looking back to Lorette. “So go. Now.”
Lorette looked like she wanted to explode but didn’t know how. “Don’t you tell me—”
“Oh, I’ll tell you any damn thing I like, especially about how I won’t rest until you’re put behind bars for attacking me… unless you leave right now. Leave, and promise to never show your self-centered, well-used, skanky ass around Whiteout Mountain again, or I swear I’ll go on a personal crusade to fuck up that shallow wasteland you optimistically call a life so bad you won’t even be able to recognize it as yours.”
“I—” Lorette’s eyes bounced from her to Quinn, where they pleaded piteously with him, the tears making an instant reappearance. Geez, no wonder the poor man had a raging allergy when it came to crying women. It all made so much sense now. “Quinn, honey…”
“Bye, Lorette.” The dismissal in his tone was the verbal equivalent of an ax falling.
Thomas stepped forward. “Let me help you find your way out.”
Again Mia turned away from her, though this time she made sure she remained out of the other woman’s reach as she was escorted out, just in case. Neither her neck nor her scalp was ready for another assault.
“I’m thinking you won’t have to fake a headache after that.” Quinn’s murmur, still vibrating with anger, was fo
r her ears alone as he turned her fully into his arms. “You okay, baby?’
“Remember you once asked me if I’d ever had my hair pulled? I don’t remember it being that painful.”
Though the hand he laid against her cheek was gentle, his expression was downright scary. “We’re leaving.”
“No, it’s okay, Boom. You stay with your family and enjoy yourself. I’ll be f—”
“You don’t make sacrifices to smooth my way. I won’t allow that.” He looked to the people still gathered loosely around them. “Mia’s not feeling great. I’m taking her back to the chalet. We can meet up later.”
Elise stepped forward to squeeze Mia’s hand and offer a quick one-armed hug. “Of course, sweetie, no worries. We’ll see you when we see you.”
“Thanks, Elise,” Mia said softly, smiling. As she allowed Quinn to turn her toward the exit, her gaze again brushed over Jase, whom she was surprised to see was focused on her with unblinking intent.
Chapter Fifteen
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Quinn locked his jaw to keep from unleashing the stream of profanity that wanted to shoot out of him like a geyser. Not that he could be blamed for wanting to turn the air blue, after that fucking ridiculous scene.
That goddamn cow.
As he looked back on his life with twenty-twenty vision, he now saw that Lorette had been the human equivalent of a canker sore. She’d been a constant irritant that he couldn’t seem to leave alone, dragging his attention back to her even when he wanted to forget her existence. His brother had been right; he’d let Lorette get her hooks into him nice and deep because he’d thought with his dick instead of his head.
That was the only part about her that he’d missed these past two years, he realized now. She’d been an easy fuck. She’d offered nothing else for him—no companionship, no significant conversation, no support, and they’d had less than nothing in common. Hell, he couldn’t even remember if she’d ever bothered to make him a damn cup of coffee when he’d needed one. All Lorette had done was fuck him.
