Leaving Bluestone (15 page)

Beth frowned. “What do you mean, night before last? I thought you’d been sleeping together for months.”

“No! Like, thirty-six hours ago. Only I wasn’t very good at it.”

Her eyebrows winged up and he waved the words away.

“I mean, I wasn’t exactly Mr. Romance.”

Beth flipped her hair back over her shoulder and looked back over the lake. “Shock.”

He scowled. “Anyway, she’s kinda pissed at me because I, well, left, and I need to figure out how to romance her.”

“So you can take her back to bed.”

Put that way, it sounded pretty shallow. “Well, yeah, but more than that. It’s Lily.”

She turned her head to look at him, dark eyes assessing. “Do you love her?”

The question made his chest squeeze. He hadn’t let himself think of these emotions in words. “I don’t know. I think so. I’m pretty sure.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ve told her.”

He tightened his grip on the rail until the wood bit into his hands. “Come on, Beth, you know me better than that.”

“So you take her to bed, you leave, you don’t say you love her. How am I the lucky one to get to know all of this?”

“Because I need to know how to fix it. And I figured you wouldn’t blab it to the world.”

She lifted a shoulder. “It’s easy enough. You know her better than anyone. Find out the things she likes and do them for her. All she wants is to know you think about her. That’s all any woman wants. I mean, this is Lily so I’m thinking you won’t send flowers or something, but she does like those pies from the diner, those lemon and chocolate ones. She likes dogs. She likes...”

He held out a hand. “I know what she likes. But none of that is romantic, you know?”

“Take her out on your boat, make a special picnic or something. Watch the sunset. Hell, what made you think I was a romantic person?”

“Because you’re a woman. So how do I get her on my boat?”

She blew out a breath, losing patience. “You invite her. You talk to her. You’re going to have to talk to her, Quinn. That’s a big part of a relationship. Communication. Trust me when I tell you I learned that the hard way.” She inclined her head toward the door.

Quinn glanced over his shoulder and saw Maddox salute them with a spoon from where he sat feeding Jonas. Curiosity was etched on his face.

“You cannot tell him,” Quinn said.

“I can’t tell him something the whole town believes is true?”

He grimaced. “You can’t tell him I came to you for help.”

“So I’m supposed to lie to him, the man I love. Because you know he’s going to ask.”

“Fine, tell him the truth. But make sure he doesn’t tell anyone else.”

“Because we can’t have the town knowing you’re an unromantic jerk.”

He scowled and followed her back into the house.

“Want to stay for breakfast?” Maddox asked, gesturing with a spatula.

“No, thanks. I’ve got some work to do,” he said.

“You have no idea how much,” Beth piped up, earning a glare from him.

She was going to tell, damn it. Did the woman not think he had any pride? Maybe he didn’t. He’d swallowed it to come here.

***

The evenings were too cool for the Friday movies now, so Quinn kept the bar open, and it was busier than usual, a good sign. He waited for Lily to come in, which she did, but she didn’t come to the bar as usual. Instead, she sat at a table with Dale, the local doctor, and Joan, a teacher at the elementary school. She waited for Beth to serve her and never once looked his way. He knew because he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had to take action soon, because he missed her like hell.

When her order came up, he nudged Beth aside and carried it out to her.

“Hey,” he said as he placed the basket with the burger and fries in front of her.

She looked up at him. “Hey.”

Her eyes were shadowed and he took a step back in surprise. Lily was never tired, never sad. Had he done this to her? He looked from her to Dale and Joan, who were watching the interaction.

He cleared his throat. “Up for a game of poker tonight?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to eat, then going home to bed.”

He got that it wasn’t an invitation. “Busy weekend?”

“Need to take advantage while I can. Only a few good weeks left. The wall-eye are nuts right now. Have you been out?”

He relaxed a little at her question. It was friendly enough. “Thinking about going out tomorrow.”

“You won’t be sorry.”

“Can I get you another Coke?” he asked, though her glass was more than half full.

She sent him a curious look. “I’m good for now, thanks.”

Lest he seem needy, he backed off. But later, when he looked over at her, she was looking back.

The following morning he didn’t go out as early as he would have liked, in hopes of running into her on the dock. When he walked out, unable to wait anymore, she was prepping the launch for her first tour.

“Good morning,” he greeted, and she jolted with surprise.

“You’re heading out late,” she said, stepping out of the launch, wiping her hands on a cloth.

“Couldn’t get moving this morning.”

She cast him a crooked look, not believing him. Right. So he was lying. Not the best way to be Mr. Romantic, he got that.

“I wanted to see you.”

She shook her head. “Quinn.”

“I wanted to do this.” He stepped forward, cupped her head in his hand. She didn’t resist, didn’t argue, so he lowered his mouth to hers and brushed a tender kiss across her mouth. “Have a good day, Lily.”

Then he headed down to his boat, unleashed it, and headed out onto the lake, leaving her standing on the dock, watching him.

Lily’s heart ached as she watched Quinn pull his boat out of the slip and motor out onto the lake. She let her fingers drift to her lips as if she could hold the sensation of his kiss in place. This week had been miserable without him, but he’d hurt her, leaving the way he had. Part of the reason she’d stayed away was to save herself, yes, but part to punish him. And now he met her out here to kiss her good morning. What was she supposed to do with that?

Before she could linger on it any longer, her first client approached with his small sleepy son, both of them laden with fishing gear. She lowered her hand, plastered a smile to her face, and met them halfway up the dock.

If Quinn’s intention had been for her to think about him all day, he succeeded. When she pulled back into the slip after each tour, she looked for him. But of course he was working at the bar, not hanging around waiting for her.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of going straight to the bar after her last tour. She went into her office and worked on paperwork until she couldn’t sit still any longer. And damn it, when she walked into the bar, her gaze went directly to him. He saw, and offered her a half-grin. She read it as triumph and marched over to a table where Leo, Trinity and Max were eating.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, and pulled out a chair without waiting for an answer.

Trinity looked from her to Quinn. “If you two are still fighting, why did you come in here?”

Lily wanted to tell her best friend everything, but that would mean telling her
everything
, and she could hardly do that in front of Leo and Max. And she could hardly admit to herself that she wanted to see him, and yes, to taunt him with her presence. She certainly wouldn’t tell Trinity. “We’re not fighting. Really.”

A glass of Coke appeared under her nose, delivered by a familiar hand, one she’d watched stroke every inch of her body. Face heating, she looked up into Quinn’s blue eyes.

“I wasn’t sure if you needed this or a beer tonight. Looks like you had a busy day.”

“I—did.” This was two nights in a row he’d been absolutely chatty.

“Poker tonight?” he asked, including Leo in the invitation.

“Not me,” Leo said, as Lily said, “Sure.”

Something heated in his gaze and an answering ribbon of lust unfurled in her stomach. It might be fun to see where this led.

***

When Lily returned to the bar at closing time, Quinn was setting up the poker table, but none of the other players who usually were in and out of their games were there. A bottle of whiskey sat nearby, and two glasses.

“Just the two of us?” she managed around a sudden influx of butterflies.

“Yep.”

“Did you invite anyone else?”

“Not after Leo said no.”

“What do you think’s going to happen here, Quinn?” she asked, bracing her hands on the back of a chair and watching him.

“Just a friendly game of poker.” He sat and leaned back in his chair to look up at her, hands folded on his stomach.

Mentally she counted her garments and swallowed hard. Twin streaks of excitement and worry raced through her, and the excitement pooled low in her belly, made her skin flush and her nipples hard.

She turned, crossed the room, and locked the front door.

Chapter Ten

Quinn was already hard when Lily walked back to the table. Her mind had skipped to where his had gone, which shouldn’t surprise him, but her willingness to play along did. She sat across from him like this was any other game, folded her arms on the table in front of her and said, “Deal.”

They played the first two hands as usual, but after a couple shots of whiskey, he got bolder. “Care to make this interesting?”

“I’m finding it plenty interesting,” she said, gesturing to her pile of chips won from him already.

“Then it shouldn’t worry you too much since you’re on a hot streak.”

“You want to play strip poker.”

His grin widened.

“And what do you think will happen once I have all your clothes off? I’ll be overcome with lust and jump you?”

Even wider. “A man can hope.”

“Fine. You’ll definitely be naked before me.”

He wasn’t. They’d both lost their boots and socks, and he’d tossed his T-shirt off first thing, hoping to distract her. Apparently it worked, because she sat across from him in her bra—a purple lacy thing that showed the outline of her erect nipples—and her jeans. He was as hard as a rock beneath his own jeans as he watched her loose hair—her ponytail holder was somewhere on the table, too—brush over her shoulders and remembered how it felt against his chest when she’d made love to him.

“You’re dealing me bad cards,” she muttered.

“You’re not paying attention,” he countered.

“Right. Because your eyes haven’t been on my nipples for the last half hour.”

Just hearing her say the word made more blood rush to his groin. But even now that he had her half-naked, he wasn’t sure when to make his move. She seemed to be focusing on her cards, though her skin was flushed. Her mouth pressed in a grim line as she discarded and took two more cards. She presented them with a grin, a straight. He countered with a flush.

Scowling, she stood and stripped off her jeans. Christ, she was wearing panties that matched her bra.

“You’re bending the cards,” she chided as his gaze slid over her.

He dropped the deck to the table. Could he bear one more hand? If she lost the bra, he was done. Hell, he was mostly done right now.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her, and watched a blush color her skin as she sat.

“Are you going to deal or what?”

He forced his attention back to the cards, fumbling with them, unable to focus since it seemed all the blood in his body now pooled in his groin and pulsed with need.

“You can’t discard your whole hand,” she protested when he tossed his cards down, stood, and grabbed her hand.

She stumbled to her feet at his urging and he dragged her against him, the lace of her bra rasping his bare chest, her toes curling against the tops of his feet as he kissed her, long and deep. Then he pulled back, closed his hands around her waist, and lifted her onto the bar.

She gripped the edge and stared down at him, eyes wide. He boosted himself up on the railing so they were eye to eye.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I put the damned thing in,” he said, and kissed her again.

Her mouth was so soft and warm and giving, and tasted of the whiskey they’d been drinking. As the rail began to dig in to the arch of his foot, he lowered himself to the floor so he was eye level with her breasts. He reached behind her and flicked the bra open with a practiced move that made her gasp. The fabric sagged, but didn’t fall free. He traced his fingertips across her shoulders, urging the straps down.

“Did you wear this hoping I’d see it?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

The loss of blood to his brain made him dizzy. He closed his hands around the straps and pulled them down, baring those gorgeous breasts. With both hands free, he trailed his touch down over the pale slopes to the pink nipples. Her name emerged from his throat, strangled, as he leaned forward to sip one nipple between his lips.

With a cry, she pressed her hand to the back of his head, holding him to her, her fingers threading through his hair. He pulled deeper, and the scent of her arousal surrounded him, urged him on. He turned his head to her other breast and parted her legs wider to let him between. Then he released her breast, dragged her hips forward on the bar, and pressed a kiss to the front of her panties.

Her groan echoed in the empty bar.

Curving his hands under her bottom, he lifted her, parting her, and kissed her again, rasping his tongue over the lace. His name was a squeak and she pressed against his shoulders, but he kissed her a third time, long and lingering and—

“Not this way!” she managed. “God, Quinn, inside me. Please.”

He stepped back, shucked his jeans, and climbed onto the bar with her, arms braced on either side of her, lowering her onto her back.

Her eyes widened. “Here?”

“It’s been my fantasy for years.”

“In general, or—”

“Only you, Lil. There hasn’t been another woman but you.” He cupped her head in his hand to protect it from the hard bar, and slanted his mouth over hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching her back so her breasts brushed his chest, and he felt her sigh. He stroked his hands down her sides to her panties, hooked his thumbs in them and drew them down gently. God. Lily was naked on his bar. He eased back on his knees to look at her, her hair pooled around her like a halo, breasts full and firm, long torso, full hips, long legs. Holy shit. She should be a painting—only he didn’t want anyone else to see her like this. Only him.