by Lee Kilraine
“Okay, here’s my plan.” Delaney pulled her phone out of the pocket of her sweatpants and placed it in front of Quinn. “I’ll start with all the calls I’ve been avoiding for the last few months.”
“You sure? Because the last thing you did, that was working for me. That seemed like an excellent plan.” Quinn’s gaze finally made it from her lips up to her eyes.
“Hey, I may not get the courage for this again.”
“You’re right. God, you are . . . I just need a minute to, um . . .” Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and looked around for Yvette, who must have had hidden Quinn radar because she set a land-speed record getting to the side of their table. “Yvette, can we get some paper and a pen?”
“Sure thing, Quinn.” Yvette ran off quickly, ignoring other tables to fulfill Quinn’s request. Breathless, she returned, placing the paper and pen in front of him with adoring eyes. “Anything else?”
“That’s it. Thanks.” He slid the paper and pen over to Delaney, and then picked up her phone to scroll through the call log as Yvette wandered listlessly away. “Okay, who is Doctor Evil?”
Delaney flinched. “My doc.”
“Nineteen missed calls.”
“Damn. Okay, first thing in the morning I call Dr. Evi . . . um, Dr. Evans.” Delaney wrote the first name on her list.
“The Enforcer?” Quinn read. “Eleven missed calls.”
“My physical therapist.” She added her name to the list.
“Baby Girl? Ah, Greer. Hey, only eight missed calls.”
“I tried to answer hers or I knew there’d be hell to pay.”
“Leg man? Let me guess, your prosthesis doctor?”
“Yeah. I’ll be in big trouble with him.” She bent her head to write the next name.
“Cecelia Cates.”
Delaney’s head shot up. “What? Your mom called me? Why would she call me?”
“We won’t know until you call her back. Next is Doc Hottie?” Quinn raised an eyebrow at that one.
“Vaguely familiar, but I can’t come up with a face,” she said with a tense shrug of her shoulders.
“Betty Boop?”
“Nada. I got nothin’.” She took a big deep breath, trying to control the claustrophobic feelings closing in.
“Real life, remember? It’s your call.”
“Yeah, yeah. For my sanity and for Greer. Okay, I’ll call all my stateside docs tomorrow morning. I’m not calling anyone I don’t remember. I’m not ready for that yet.”
“Sounds like a plan.” His confident tone was a lifeline, something she could latch on to, to help her with the first tentative steps back.
“Can I keep ignoring your mom?”
“No, you can’t keep ignoring my mom. In fact, as a show of your good intentions, call her back now.” Quinn pushed the number to connect the call and handed Delaney the phone. He actually laughed at her panic when his mom answered.
“Mrs. Cates? This is Delaney Lyons, returning your call.”
Quinn reached across the table and grabbed her hand to catch her attention. “Relax. Breathe,” he whispered.
“Yes, Mama Cates. Greer told you that? Okay . . . tomorrow afternoon will be fine. Thank you, ma’am, I mean . . . Mama Cates. Yes, ma’am. See you tomorrow.” Delaney hung up the phone and started hyperventilating.
“Delaney, what’s wrong?”
“She wants to take me shopping. Apparently, Greer told her I only have sweats. What am I going to do?” Delaney was panicking. She didn’t know Quinn’s mom. She didn’t know anyone’s mom. Hell, she’d never really even known her own mother. Oh, help, did she have asthma? She didn’t think she did, but it was getting harder to breathe.
“It’s okay. It sounds like she just wants to help you shop. That’s all. She doesn’t have any girls, remember? It’s me and my four brothers.”
“But Quinn, I’ve never done anything with a mom. I don’t know what to do.” She still couldn’t catch her breath.
Quinn moved around to Delaney’s bench in the booth. “Delaney, look at me. That’s it. Breathe deep.” He finally leaned in and kissed her, rubbing her neck and shoulders with his hands. “It’s okay, Delaney. She’s tired of shopping for guys. She lives to buy pink and sparkly clothes.”
“Quinn! I’m not a pink and sparkly girl. I . . . I can’t breathe.” Delaney felt stupid. After all the things she’d lived through the last nine months, it was a shopping trip that might tip her over the edge? The hyperventilating was beginning to make her light-headed.
“It’s okay. Just buy something girly, like a pink bra. It’ll be fine.” He wrapped his arm around Delaney and pulled her in to his chest while her breathing settled.
“Or maybe a thong . . .” Quinn abruptly stopped talking. “Damn. I just got a mental picture of your ass in a thong.”
Delaney drew back out of his arms. “Well, erase it. I am not buying a pink bra or a thong with your mother.”
“You’re right. That’s something I should definitely do with you. How about some makeup or shoes?”
“I hardly wear makeup. And shoes? Really, Quinn? Shoes?” Delaney hit him in the shoulder, then dropped her forehead on the table, trying not to start hyperventilating again.
Yvette sidled up to their table, looking concerned. “Is she okay?”
“Oh, yeah. She was just remembering the time she asked me out and I turned her down.” Quinn rubbed Delaney’s back consolingly.
Delaney sat up, shrugging his hand from her back. “She is remembering an episode of Lassie when Little Timmy found a policeman down in the well, only Lassie was too busy throwing up a chicken bone and the policeman died. A slow, painful death.”
“That sounds awful. Can you imagine a show like that, Quinn?” Yvette turned and blinked at Quinn.
“I saw that episode and I’m pretty sure the policeman went in the well to save the woman. He found her, almost frostbitten, in a pink bra and thong. After he slipped his uniform shirt around her, which took some time because of... all the buttons,” Quinn explained to Yvette, “he carried her to safety. She spent the rest of the episode showing the officer her appreciation.”
Yvette sighed. “I think I saw that show.”
“You enjoy bad porn, Yvette?” Delaney asked.
“What? No. Um, I came over to close out your table. My shift is over.” Yvette moved her attention to Quinn. “You want anything else?”
“We’re good, if you’ve got our bill ready.”
Yvette tore the bill from her pad, laying it face down on their table. She lingered, her attention focused on Quinn. “I heard Jack’s coming back tonight. I bet Greer’s happy.”
“Jack?” Delaney looked between Yvette and Quinn. “Who’s Ja—?”
“We’re all set here, Yvette.” Quinn handed Yvette some money along with a killer smile. “Appreciate it.”
“Are you heading over to the 24/7 later?” Yvette asked, the hope bright on her face.
“Well, see, Delaney and I are on a date.” Quinn grunted when Delaney’s elbow found his ribs. “Sorry, we’re in the middle of an appointment, and if I get lucky, I’ll be too busy to go to the gym.”
“What? You and Delaney?” Yvette’s face looked like Quinn had announced there were no more kittens in the world.
“Yeah, she finally threw herself at me just enough times.”
“You’ll be lucky if I don’t kill you.”
“Um, that’s against the law,” Yvette said, looking worried.
“This is true, Yvette, but if the police officer is dead, who is going to arrest me?” Delaney watched Yvette’s face go from worried to confused.
Quinn pulled Delaney into his shoulder and whispered, “Behave, little girl.”
Yvette watched him whispering in Delaney’s ear with envious eyes. “Okay, well, good night. See ya ’round.”
“Sure thing, Yvette.”
“So, you dated Yvette?” Delaney put some space between herself and Quinn.
He
shook his head. “Once. We went on a date once. It was years ago.”
“Huh.” She leaned one elbow on the table, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. “She seems a lot hung up on you still.”
“Yvette’s a nice woman, just not the woman for me.” He drained the last of his drink and placed his warm hand around her elbow, getting ready to move them along.
“Not so fast. And definitely not until you tell me who Jack is.” She pulled her elbow back and away, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited. “Although, zoinks! Shaggy, I think I can follow the clues and come up with ‘boyfriend.’ Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
Quinn sat back with a sigh. “She wanted to focus on you. You were there for her every time growing up, and she wants to be there for you.”
“And?” She shook her head. “There has to be more to it than that. Why else would she not even mention her boyfriend?”
“She’s worried about you.”
“Oh, hell.” Delaney shut her eyes and let the guilt slide through her. “She doesn’t trust me to be alone. So she’s put her life on hold for me.”
Quinn shifted in his seat. “Your last month in D.C. really scared her.”
“I didn’t mean to. I—” She felt the moisture well up in her eyes and blinked it away.
“Sure you didn’t.” He reached out and squeezed her hand with one of his. Its warmth and strength grounded her. “But that doesn’t change that she’s afraid to leave you alone.”
“Okay, fair enough.” Grabbing her hand back, she patted the pockets of her sweatpants until she came up with her phone. “But no way is she sacrificing her happiness for me. No way.”
“Laney, she doesn’t see it as a sacrifice.”
“I believe that. How does Jack feel about it?” Delaney flipped open her phone and pushed the speed dial for Greer. Quinn’s face said it all. “That’s what I thought.”
“Hey, he’s been out of town for training, so don’t feel too bad—” Delaney reached over and covered his mouth with her hand.
“Greer, hey. Quinn and I have been talking, and I’ll be at his place tonight.”
Quinn nibbled on the palm of her hand, which almost had her crossing her eyes until he lowered her hand and flashed a cocky grin.
“You thought I’d hold out longer? Well, me too, but”—she gazed at his smile and then up into his electric blue eyes—“he talked me into bed, what can I say? And if he’s as good as he says he is, I might stay at his place for more than one night. Is that okay with you?”
“I’m totally okay with it,” Quinn whispered into her ear, his deep voice vibrating through her body like the hum of a tuning fork.
She shoved an elbow in his gut, making him grunt. “What? Oh, that was Quinn getting all hot and bothered already. How about we meet at the diner for breakfast tomorrow?”
Delaney heard a deep mumble, probably the mysterious Jack, before Greer changed it to lunch and then they hung up.
“I told you he’d been gone for a while.” Quinn grinned one of those knowing guy grins. “Come on. I’m pretty anxious to get home myself all of a sudden.”
“We are not sleeping together, but if you let me stay in your guest room for a few days, I’ll owe you.”
“You’ll owe me? I do like the sound of that. Okay, so no to sleeping together, but maybe we can make out a little or tuck each other into bed.” Quinn guided Delaney up and out to the parking lot, waving a general good-bye to the hoots and hooyahs they got on the way out.
“In your dreams, Quinn.” She glanced up at his face, which was lit up by the large rustic lanterns hanging in the parking lot.
Quinn smiled his crooked smile. “You know you’re tempted. You’re only hesitating because you’re hung up on the younger-guy thing.”
Delaney stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at him. Could he be that dense? “Quinn, I’ll admit the fact that you’re younger than me is different, but look at me right now and tell me there isn’t, oh, say, maybe one or two other little things that might make me think twice about hopping, and I mean that literally, into bed with you.”
“Oh, okay. This is where we talk about your foot.”
“Well, we could, but why don’t we talk about the one that’s missing instead.”
“Hey, don’t think I haven’t thought about this. I actually have a speech planned out. It’s just that you’ve been through a lot this week, and I’m not sure you’re ready for this conversation.”
“Of course I’m not ready. Oh, God, what are you doing to me? One minute I know I don’t want to have sex with you. The next minute I’m thinking about and discussing the logistics of sex with you.” Delaney didn’t just think Quinn was driving her crazy. She knew it.
“So, we’ll slow down. I can do that. But know this . . . I’m slowing this down for you. Don’t think I want you any less. When you’re ready, we’ll talk, and then it’s game on in the bedroom.”
“Quinn, do you even have a romantic bone in your body?” Delaney rolled her eyes. “Game on?”
Quinn opened the door and helped her into his truck. He walked around, slid in behind the steering wheel, and turned toward her. “Is that what you want from me, Delaney? Romance?”
“What? No. No, of course not.” Gah! She wanted him to walk away before she did something crazy. Like say yes.
“I can be more romantic. It might take me a little while, but I can come up with something.”
Delaney laughed at the look of concentration on his face. “Never mind. I definitely don’t want romance.”
“No. Your inner romantic bitch has spoken. Let’s call her Lola.” Quinn pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward Delaney’s so she could grab a few things for the sleepover. “Everyone knows, what Lola wants, Lola gets. I’ll come up with something. Have a little faith, please.”
Climax being a small town, the drive to Delaney’s was short. She kept glancing over at Quinn, who was mumbling under his breath, trying to come up with something romantic. She laughed, watching him, as they pulled into the driveway.
“Dammit.”
“That’s what I thought. Not a romantic bone in your body, is there?” Delaney chuckled until she saw that Quinn was staring at the house, his jaw clenched tight. Turning toward the house lit up by the truck headlights, she saw the broken front picture window. Spray-painted in bright red, in three-foot-tall letters on either side of the broken window, were the words LEAVE NOW.
Chapter Fifteen
“Well, heck. I guess I did piss someone off.”
“Stay here while I check it out.” Quinn leaned across her, grabbing a flashlight out of the glove compartment.
Delaney watched him cut across the headlight beams to check out around the front porch. Huh, just when she thought Quinn was being paranoid, this. She rolled down her window to get a clearer look. Seeing the jagged edges of the window, Delaney started shaking just imagining the sound of the breaking glass. The same sound that echoed in her nightmares.
“You might want to call Greer.”
She started since she hadn’t noticed Quinn standing next to her window. “What are you, a ninja? Look, I’ve already stacked the ‘reasons to worry about Delaney’ list high enough already. Letting her have another twelve hours until I have to add more to the pile won’t hurt.”
“Are you trying to protect Greer again?” He rested his hand on the window opening. “Want to guess where Jack works?”
“No. Oh, tell me he’s not a—” Delaney’s voice was cut off by her ringing phone. Sure enough, it was Greer calling. “Cop.” She answered Greer’s call just as the police siren started wailing onto the driveway.
Quinn walked away to talk to the cops on duty.
Delaney spent ten minutes on the phone trying to appease her worried sister while Quinn and his fellow cops split up, some gathering evidence on the front porch, others heading inside the house. Greer finally calmed down and ended the call after Delaney reminded her she would be safe at Quinn’s place.
/> She leaned back against the truck seat and watched the organized chaos of a crime scene. Crime scene? It could just be teenagers, right?
No. Once might be teenagers, but four times? She passed the time by going through all the conversations she’d had since she’d been back. Okay, she could see there might be a few people upset with her, but enough to break a window and spray graffiti on the house? And if it wasn’t anger, what else could it be? Fear? She didn’t have any deep dark secrets to reveal. Love? It would be a sick, twisted love then, wouldn’t it, and she hadn’t seen any lovesick fool around, other than Quinn. Jealousy?
Barbara! The bitch. But no. Barbara was upfront about her feelings for Delaney. As much as she’d like to pin this on her, that theory didn’t make sense.
Maybe she’d been looking at it the wrong way. She wasn’t necessarily the problem. What if this was about Quinn? He certainly hadn’t been shy about his interest in her. Lord knew, Yvette was a victim of his charm. No telling how many other women were wandering around town unable to get his attention and she had pissed off.
Quinn finally climbed back behind the wheel of the truck, leaving the cops on duty to finish up. He tossed a bag onto the seat next to her. “I grabbed you a few things. Toothbrush, toothpaste, some face-looking stuff, something that looked like wound cream. Clean sweats and underthings. I didn’t see any birth control pills. Should I go back to look again?”
“You are so nosy. The answer to your question, Officer Cates, is the lady isn’t on birth control. You just had to paw through my underwear drawer again, didn’t you?”
“I’m an optimistic guy, and I was hoping to find a thong or two in it this time. Hey, a guy can dream, can’t he?” He headed the truck toward his house, glancing often at Delaney.
“What did you find inside?”
