by Lee Kilraine
“Let’s call it an ‘appointment’ then. An appointment that involves food.” Quinn finally lifted his gaze up to meet Delaney’s. “Woo, ha, trying to focus here. Okay, come on. Let’s go. You have ten minutes. Oh, yeah, Greer is heading to the airport to pick up a friend, so unless you want to stand at the stove cooking, I’m your best bet to get food into that growling stomach of yours. I’ll be waiting downstairs. If you’re not dressed and down in ten, I will happily assume you want me naked and, ahem, up. I am more than fine with that, too, but your call.”
Delaney threw the bar of soap as Quinn backed quickly out of the room. It landed with a satisfying thunk, but only against the door and not his thick skull. God, he was driving her crazy! The most maddening thing of all? The fact that taking longer than ten minutes was a real temptation. No, Delaney. Down, girl. Be smart. Take the safe road. Get out of the house. Now.
Quinn backed out of the room, closing the door quickly behind him, just before he heard the bar of soap hit it. That’s my girl. Down in the kitchen, less than five minutes later, Quinn stood leaning against the counter drinking a glass of sweet tea as Delaney limped downstairs. He noticed she was wearing a fresh set of grey sweatpants and sweatshirt and had accessorized them with her pissed-off look. That look told him he needed to get moving before she dug her heels in and got stubborn about leaving the house with him.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed his truck keys off the counter with one hand and Delaney’s elbow with the other as he headed out the side door. “I’ve never actually known a woman who could look as beautiful as you without spending an hour on it.”
Delaney snorted. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”
He stopped them outside on the porch, pulling her into his chest. “I absolutely am.” Then he slid his hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. He took his time searching for her keys. Hey, he believed in doing a thorough job.
“Whoa, watch those hands,” Delaney warned.
“Next time,” he said, pulling the keys out of her right pocket and turning to lock the door. “I will remind you of that invitation the next time we’re alone together, but right now I promised to feed you.”
“If there wasn’t food involved—” Delaney started, but Quinn cut her off when he put a finger across her lips.
“I know. You’re hell on my ego, but see, I’ll take it anyway.” He opened the passenger door to his black pickup truck and quickly boosted her up on the seat. Keeping her off-balance was the only way to keep her heading where he needed to get her. No hardship on this occasion as his hands ran over her ass.
“Hands!” Delaney scooted her behind quickly on the bench seat and away from Quinn’s hands.
“Sorry. Slipped.” He shut the door, not sorry at all, as he moved around the front to the driver’s side door.
Once behind the wheel, he leaned in her space to grab her seat belt. She quickly smacked his shoulder and buckled herself in while he shrugged and then buckled his own seat belt. He started the truck, looked into the rearview mirror to back around her Jeep, and pulled out onto the road. He glanced over at her as they headed toward downtown.
“Huh, I thought Greer would have taken you shopping by now.”
Delaney sat looking anywhere but at Quinn. “Why?”
“Don’t most women want different clothes for different moods?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve pretty much been in the same mood for nine months now, so I’m good.”
“Good point. Hey, I’m just making conversation. The look you were rocking in the bathtub worked fine for me.” He turned his grin on her.
“Like you’ll ever see it again,” she said.
“Delaney, you’ve been showing up naked in my dreams since high school.” Quinn looked over at her as he pulled up to a red light. “Only, my imagination didn’t do you justice and I thought you were smaller—you know, less endowed—than you really are. I’ll make those adjustments tonight.”
“While you’re doing that, don’t forget to adjust for the missing foot. You know, add in my stump and my sexy prosthetic lower leg.” She kept her focus on the light as it turned green. “What was it you said at the gym? Oh, yeah . . . this is real life. Even you can’t dream this away.”
Chapter Thirteen
Quinn weighed his next words very carefully. He knew he’d lost ground with his reaction four days ago. He hadn’t even known Delaney had been in the military, let alone served in a war zone, so hell yes, he had needed time. Time to wrap his head around everything. And then after the adjusting, there was the soul searching because he knew he couldn’t explain to Delaney things he couldn’t put into words for himself.
Ty had said he needed to be all in or get the hell out of Delaney’s life. And no matter how many ways he examined his life, he couldn’t imagine it without Delaney in it. Damn straight he was all in. She probably thought she had revealed only her injury and prosthesis in the gym. And it had been a shock all right. But over the last four days, though, he’d grown more in awe of the courage she’d revealed. Courage was sexy as hell. She was also strong, funny, and fiercely protective of people she loved.
And then there was the work of art that was her ass. Nope, she might just run scared if he hit her with all that.
He had some heavy lifting to do dismantling the wall she’d built back up while he was away figuring out what he wanted. That was fine because it would give Delaney time to decide what she wanted. He just hoped that she’d choose him.
“I’m not trying to dream anything away. We’ll play with the cards you were dealt.” He turned into a parking lot and pulled into a spot. Getting out, he walked around the truck to help her out.
Forever independent, she was already jumping down. “The VFW? What are you up to?”
“Tynan said they have the best meat loaf in town.” He intertwined his fingers with hers and tugged her gently in through the double doors of the VFW. “You like meat loaf, right? I mean, I think it’s un-American and possibly bordering on sedition to not like meat loaf.”
Quinn paused so Delaney could look around the dim room and take it in. It seemed like Delaney’s kind of place . . . laid-back and comfortable. No way would he have taken her to some preppy bar, not that Climax even had one. He knew most of the people in here due to his job since most people liked talking to cops. It was the ones who didn’t that you had to watch out for. The better he knew the people, the better job he could do.
A few people were on the far side of the room playing pool or darts. More than a few were drinking at the old wooden bar running the length of wall opposite the door, but most were sitting around the tables laughing, talking, and eating. Quinn felt her try to free her hand, but he only renewed his grip. “You on heavy pain meds?”
“What? No, just aspirin. Let go of my hand.”
“When we’re sitting. Hey, Harry,” Quinn called to the bartender as they headed to a table. “We’ll take two beers over here.”
“Coming right up, Quinn.”
A round of “Officer Cates!” and “Quinlan!” went up. One gentleman waved them over to a large round table with five men of various ages and sizes sitting around it. “Quinn, we haven’t seen you in here in ages. We haven’t seen your brother Tynan much either, come to think of it. Come sit down and introduce us to your girl. But first, pay us our hush money.” The gnarled hand nearest to Quinn was stuck out, waiting.
“Ty warned me you were a bunch of hustlers.” Letting go of Delaney’s hand, Quinn reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet and laid a five-dollar bill in the man’s hand. He caught the attention of the passing waitress. “Two meat loaf specials, please. Now, you already know my girl, only she doesn’t know you.”
“Whoa. I am not Quinn’s girl. I’m Delaney Lyons and I grew up in this town. What was the hush money for?” Delaney looked around the table as Quinn suppressed a grin, seeing curiosity and twinkling humor in all the vets’ faces.
“Not Quinn’s girl? I sure hope you�
�re trying or I’ll give up on your whole generation.”
“I’m trying, General McLong. It’s part of my plan,” Quinn said.
Delaney rolled her eyes. “The hush money?”
“That’s so none of us tell his mom about him eating the meat loaf here,” General McLong said. “So, you’re Dick Lyons’s girl?”
“He went by Richard Lyons, but yes, he was my father.” Delaney looked over the faces at the table.
“We enjoyed calling him Dick behind his back. Aren’t you a pretty thing, Delaney Lyons.”
The cocktail waitress, Yvette, managed to serve their beers while keeping her eyes on Quinn. After a casual thanks from him, she moved on, a little more subdued as she served the other drinks on her tray.
“Seems to me I heard a rumor floating around the Grapevine about you, Delaney.” Sergeant Rodriguez looked up at the antler chandelier above him. “Oh, got it. You were recently attacked by a mountain lion. How did you live through that?”
“I didn’t.” Delaney shook her head. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear on the Grapevine.”
“Oh, well, then that explains the wild tale of you being the newest member of our Purple Heart Club. You’d think the Grapevine would get better sources.”
Delaney cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. Her face paled and her hands shook until she quickly moved them out of sight. “That one is actually true. Afghanistan. Nine months ago.”
Quinn looked around the faces at the table, noticing Delaney’s statement had touched everyone. He was damn nervous about making another misstep with Delaney, so it was a bit of a relief to let the more experienced veterans step in. Let the understanding and the healing begin.
“Hrmph.” General McLong pulled on his ear while he stared down at his silverware. The men were quiet. The waitress, Sarah, arrived with everyone’s plates, slipping them silently on the table in front of them. After Sarah moved on to serve another table, the silence drew out another awkward beat. “Do you want to—”
Delaney was already shaking her head. “Nope. I’m good.”
The veterans let out a collective sigh of relief, and Sergeant Rodriguez nodded and said, “Great. Let’s eat.”
What? What the hell was that? Quinn looked around the table as everyone dug in to their meat loaf dinners, more than a little confused about the “help” Tynan had talked about. He stared at his plate, steaming with thick slices of meat loaf, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, and fresh green beans sprinkled with almonds, and couldn’t imagine trying to swallow a bite. He was trying to figure out a new plan, one where he had to try to help Delaney by himself. Hell, he didn’t have a clue where to start.
He noticed Delaney had no problem eating. In fact, she was plowing through her meal. By the time she scooped up the last spoon of mashed potatoes, a few of the veterans at the table had shared their stories, and even a scar or two.
“My scar is way too close to my, ahem, ‘ego’ to show in public.” Sergeant Rodriguez waggled his bushy eyebrows at Delaney. “I got peppered by hot grenade fragments. Luckily there was a stream nearby. I had to strip out of my uniform since my clothes caught fire. That was the first and last time I ever went skinny-dipping.”
Delaney laughed along with the rest of the men. And then quiet settled around the table. “I don’t remember anything about mine. I’ve lost the few weeks around the explosion along with my foot. Some other memories are sketchy or distorted. All I know is what I’ve been told. They think it was a . . . a roadside bomb. Everything was splattered in . . . red and then nothing. Some people died.” Delaney looked down at her shaking hands. “I didn’t.”
“Ach. That’s the way of it, isn’t it?” Mac O’Brien shook his head. “It’s always a bloody damn mess.”
Quinn didn’t want to think about Delaney being covered in blood. The thought made him sick. And his mind had gone there a lot during his four days of soul searching. “Gentlemen, thanks for the company, but I’m taking Delaney over to that dark corner over there. We have things to talk over.”
“Oh, this would be the plan you mentioned. Good luck. News from the Grapevine says our Delaney’s a tough sell.”
Our Delaney? “Well, I’m working on wearing her down. I would like carnal knowledge of this woman before the decade is over.”
“Shoot, Quinn, I’ve still got my medical license. I’ll write you a prescription for Viagra tomorrow if you need it.” Doc Jones had all the men laughing and backslapping Quinn.
“You men are a hoot.” Quinn pushed back his chair and stood up from the table. “I do not need any damn Viagra.”
“Fine, Doc here can write that Viagra prescription for Delaney.” General McLong winked at Delaney as Quinn pulled her up and away from the table.
He sat down across from her in a dimly lit corner booth on the other side of the room as the men started talking about ordering dessert. He looked into her eyes. It felt damn good to be with her. How had he lived all those years without knowing where she was . . . how she was?
“So, Greer kept me in the dark about your life on account of she thought I was hung up on this thing for you.” Quinn sat back, trying to look as nonthreatening as a six-foot-two, two-hundred-pound guy can look.
“A thing? You had a thing for me?” Delaney asked doubtfully.
“Hell yes, I did, only I didn’t realize it was real until you were long gone. I still remember the day I came back from college and Greer told me you weren’t coming back.” He shook his head, deciding that was a story for another day. “I know you were commuting to University of North Carolina at Greensboro when Greer and I graduated high school. Studying nursing. That much I heard. I think you had one more year left? Greer and I both left town to attend college. That’s where I lost you. How did you end up in the military?”
“There wasn’t money for me to go to college, but lucky for me, the Army offered me an ROTC scholarship. I didn’t even tell Greer until I graduated college since I knew she’d worry or feel guilty. They paid for me to get my nursing degree and let me run. After graduation I was stationed in Texas and then Italy and eventually I ended up stationed in Afghanistan.”
Quinn shook his head. “You’re leaving out a lot of details. I wouldn’t think many of the military athletes end up in combat theaters.”
“It didn’t seem right after a while. Everyone else was making a real sacrifice and I was literally running in safe little circles.” Delaney started shredding the paper napkin in front of her. “I don’t know, I mean, I loved running. I lived for it, but I didn’t feel like I was serving my country when I was running.”
“Well, you were, dummy.” Quinn picked up one of the napkin scraps and tossed it at her. “And you were safe, damn it. But damn if I don’t respect the hell out of you.”
“Truth? I didn’t think I’d be in much danger as a nurse.” Delaney laughed at her own naïveté. “Even being stationed in Afghanistan. I look back now and could kick myself to think I gave up running forever.”
“You don’t know that.” Quinn leaned forward and lowered his gaze to look into her eyes, but couldn’t read what was there. “Talk to me, Delaney. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing. That’s part of the problem. I honestly don’t remember anything about that morning. When I try to remember, I . . . I can’t.” Delaney stared out the window into the darkening sky. “I know people died, but I can’t remember their names or faces. Not until I fall asleep and then they’re right there, staring at me, reaching out to me with bloody hands and blood splattered over their faces. I’m swimming in an ocean of blood until the shark comes, clamps onto my leg, and drags me under.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, hell. No wonder you aren’t getting any sleep. All I know is ignoring everything doesn’t seem to be working for you. Burying everything down deep has only put off the inevitable. And it costs you . . . and Greer.”
Delaney’s breath caught. “Oh, it really does. So, no more ignoring reality
? God, you’re like the life coach from hell. Okay. But I’m not ready to deal with the war yet. Does that make me a coward?”
“No. It makes you smart,” Quinn said. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“What was that for?”
“That was to distract you so I could do this.” Quinn kept one hand firm along her delicate jawline and slipped his other hand around her ponytail until he cradled the back of her head. His lips were a breath away from kissing hers when he stopped and pulled back. It wasn’t quick enough to avoid the attention and hoots from across the room. “Hell. I forgot where we were. Let me go pay the hush money on this or you’ll be getting a call from my mom any minute. Then we’ll come up with a plan.”
Delaney tried to settle her breathing as she watched Quinn walk across the room. He pulled out his wallet when he got to the table and laughed at the good-natured ribbing he got. It looked like it cost him more than five dollars to keep the almost-kiss quiet. She should have told him to save his money, that she was a bad investment. She didn’t say a thing though, as he returned to their booth. She looked at his handsome face, his chiseled jaw, his sharp, straight nose, the dimple in his right cheek, and those almost translucent blue eyes that made the world stop when they had her in his sights. Kiss me because you want me. She couldn’t say a thing.
“What?” Quinn looked at her, eyebrows raised, as he sat down across from her. “You okay?”
Not even close. “How much hush money did that cost you?”
“Twenty bucks, but it was worth it,” Quinn said with a crooked smile that had her insides melting. Did all guys have this power over women, or was it the shock of opening back up to real life after months of numbing self-isolation?
“I’m counting on it.” Delaney stood up and reached across the table, pulling Quinn in by the fabric of his shirt. She kissed him with all the heat that had smoldered watching him. When she needed to come up for air, she pushed him away and grabbed twenty dollars out of her pocket. Limping across the room, she smacked the hush money in the middle of the table of veterans. “No telling his mother or my sister. Oh, and I don’t think either one of us will be needing the blue pills, Doc.” She winked and walked back to the booth to a round of hooyahs.
