Quinn laid her head on Owen’s shoulder and curled her legs under her.

He hadn’t said so much as five words strung together since the guys had left, and she didn’t know if talking was what they needed.

They had a no-win situation on their hands that neither of them were responsible for.

If they found the guy who’d attacked her, who wanted to go after them both, then they were left blind. The people paying him could just hire someone else, an unknown, and they’d be right back at square one. Trading the enemy they knew for one they didn’t wasn’t a real solution.

“What do we need to do to prepare for the conference?” Owen asked.

“Tomorrow I’ll go in the office, see what kind of disaster state everyone’s projects are in and spend the day packing up what I can—our booths and whatnot. Depending on what state they’re in, I’ll load up and drive it all down day after tomorrow or the next day. That’ll put us there as soon as they open the doors for set-up. I end up doing most of it by myself, which is why I want all the time I can get.”

“So, three days? When are you going to finish yours?”

“Mine’s almost done. It’s mostly cosmetic at this point. I’ve made so many of these batteries, I can do it in my sleep now.”

“What can I do to make it happen for you?” He placed his hand on her thigh, the warmth seeping through her pajama pants.

“You’re doing enough.” Besides, she wasn’t certain the risk was worth the reward at this point.

Everything relied on the email she’d sent earlier when no one was looking.

If she got a reply, it would dictate her future. Which meant she needed to take advantage of her present and every moment she had.

“I don’t want to talk about our problems right now.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and kissed him.

Owen grasped her by the knees, pulling her across his lap. His kiss wasn’t as gentle. There was a primal need underlying the heat of him that she understood. Because she’d been there yesterday. She’d needed him, to feel alive, in control. And tonight, he needed that same thing.

They could have lost each other tonight.

He picked her up without so much as a grunt of effort. She clung to his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist as he stood. His lips continued to move against hers, his tongue teasing her.

They made it half a dozen steps or so, almost to the bedroom door.

Owen pressed her back against the wall and grasped her hips. He moved her, rubbing his pelvis against hers. She could feel him, hard under his clothes.

“Owen,” she whispered against his mouth.

“I’m sorry.” He eased his grasp and she slid down a few inches. “I’m sorry—I know—this isn’t the time.”

She unwrapped one leg from around his waist, still clutching him close.

He glanced away from her.

It was her turn to cup his cheek, bring his face back to hers. She leaned in and kissed him, keeping the contact sweet. Barely there.

She loved this man, even if he did infuriate her at times. She needed him to wreck her life. To help her put it back to rights. And right now, he needed her.

“It’s always the time.” She chuckled.

Quinn grasped his belt and pulled it lose, releasing the catch.

He didn’t let go of her, but he also didn’t move to help her, and that was fine.

For once, she’d like for him to let her do the work.

She tabbed his jeans open. Gravity worked in her favor and his pants sagged several inches, allowing for his erection to strain at the front of his boxers.

Quinn slid her hand inside his underwear, peering up at his face. His cheeks were sunk in, those baby blues of his so sharp and focused on her hand. She grasped his cock the same way he’d showed her a few nights ago, the way he liked to be touched. She hadn’t forgotten.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, his neck.

“Take your shirt off?” She liked looking at him. Seeing him.

Owen pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it. He had that same intensely focused look on his face. What would she have to do to get a smile from him?

Quinn kissed his chest and peered down at his cock in her hand. The way the skin moved with each stroke, how soft he was and way he felt in her palm were, they were all Owen. Parts of him she cherished. Loved.

She sank to her knees to the tune of Owen’s sharp intake of breath. She wasn’t precisely experienced at this, but if she’d learned anything by being with Owen, it was that they made it work.

She studied his cock for a moment, the flushed head, the thick, pulsing vein against her palm.

She loved all of him.

Quinn leaned forward and kissed the mushroom cap.

Owen’s fingers stroked her cheek before finding purchase in her hair.

Did he know she wasn’t entirely sure what came next?

It didn’t matter.

He applied the slightest pressure to the back of her head. She parted her lips and tasted his skin. The blood rushing past her ears drowned out whatever he said. He rubbed her tongue against him, sliding him deeper. He pulled back until her lips barely contained him.

She peered up at him and froze.

The look of want on his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

Quinn leaned forward and breathed.

“Oh, fuck.” Owen’s hand in her hair tightened. He hooked an arm under hers and pulled her up to her feet, walking her backward until she hit the wall.

His hands were everywhere, pushing her pajamas down, pulling her shirt over her head. It was a flurry of action filled with need.

He cupped her mound, his fingers sliding through her folds.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered.

“Mm.” She shifted her hips, abandoning any sense of self-consciousness.

There wasn’t a whole lot left to be nervous about. They’d covered the truly personal stuff and now it was an experiment in honesty.

He wanted her.

She wanted him.

The how and why didn’t matter anymore.

Owen dug his wallet out with one hand. She took it from him and pulled out the condom she’d prompted him to replace. She ripped it open and he snagged the latex disc as it fell to the floor. His chuckle was harsh.

She pressed her shoulders to the wall and watched him roll the condom on.

Sex had never been a high priority. It was simply a part of a relationship. At least until Owen. Sex wasn’t everything, but each time he was inside of her, she felt that closeness, their bond strengthening. She knew the chemical reasons why, but this felt like more.

He reached for her, grasping her by the hips and lifting.

She gasped, unaccustomed to Owen’s show of strength. He wasn’t just the pushy, nice guy who fixed stuff around her house.

Quinn wrapped her legs around his hips, his cock trapped between them. He set her back against the wall and let go with one hand, long enough to position his erection. She arched her back, pressing down on him.

She groaned, relishing the feel of him. The rightness of it all.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Yeah?”

“God, you’re amazing.” He shifted and gravity did the rest, joining their bodies in a way that was right.

He cupped her ass and kissed her neck as he pulled out of her. She clutched his shoulders, digging in her nails. He thrust hard enough it drove the breath from her lungs.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“No—no sorry.” She dug her heels into his ass.

He thrust again, this time without reservation.

She groaned. It was different. Deeper, harder. Full of need and more.

“Like this?” he asked against her cheek.

“Yeah. Just like that.” She turned her face, finding his lips with hers. The better to keep those three little words inside.

Something against the wall rattled in time with his thrusts. She didn’t care what, but the feel of the vibrations against the wall, his heated flesh, the cool air, the smell of their bodies, it was all consuming. She wanted to wrap herself in him, live like this forever. Connected, body and soul. It was holly ridiculous, and yet the concept appealed to her.

Quinn braced her foot on the wall, the better to move with him. He shifted his grasp on her ass, changing the angle of his thrusts.

“Oh—my god.” She gasped for air, her body shuddering as he stroked a deeper pleasure point.

Owen plunged into her body, the sensation overwhelming her. She opened her mouth, but screaming or crying out were beyond her.

Deep inside, her body began to tremble. The tremors grew in strength until her hands shook.

“That’s it,” Owen said against her neck.

He buried his face in her hair and wrapped his arms around her waist. He moved her by sheer strength, his motions jerky, rough, uneven. And then he stopped, their bodies deeply joined, her very soul resounding with the coupling.

“Quinn—oh, god—I love you. I love you. I love you.” Owen’s voice was ragged, the notes desperate.

They both froze. Her heart ached, those words the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.

“Really?” She prayed he wasn’t joking, that they weren’t the product of passion.

“Ignore me,” he said into her hair.

“No—are you serious?” She leaned back, the better to see him.

“Forget it.” He glanced away, not willing to meet her gaze.

“Owen.” She took his face in both hands, staring into his eyes until he’d finally look at her. This was...big. Important. Scary. And it mattered. She opened her mouth, but that last little step, saying those words back—she couldn’t make her mouth move. She swallowed down the knot in her throat and prayed he meant it.

“Are you serious? Because if you are, that’s okay.” She stroked his hair, his cheek, committing this moment to memory.

“Are you sure?” He licked his lips.

“Yes.”

“Then...” Owen pushed her hair off her face. He rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah. I love you. Got a problem with that?”

“No.” She held up her hand, crooking her pinky at him. “I’ll tell you a secret, if you promise to keep it.”

“Deal.” He hooked his finger in hers, pulling her hand to his lips for a quick kiss.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

He laughed and she chuckled.

They were ridiculous, and yet...perfect. They’d met at the lowest point in both their lives, and they’d damn well climb out of this valley together. Stronger. Better for having each other. Which was why she had to protect him. Why the next few hours, if anything happened, would be about preserving their future.

“I love you, Quinn,” he said against her lips.

She eased her legs from around him and he helped her stand.

Love was great and all, but she needed a little more assurance.

“Owen? Can we make one more deal? A serious one?” She looped her arms around his waist.

“What is it?”

“Don’t let me go back on this. When the dust settles and we figure out how life is going to be, don’t let me push you out of my life. Please?”

“I’ve got a secret.” He grinned at her. “I’m not so nice as to fuck off, just because you tell me to.”

“I hate to tell you, but that’s not a secret.” She poked his chest and grinned.

Owen ducked his head and kissed her, following it up with another dozen, “I love you”s, lost in her hair, against her skin.

“Was that your stomach growling?” he asked.

“I...think so...”

“Quinn. I’m going to shower. You,” he tapped her nose, “eat.”

“Fine. Mind if I use the bathroom real quick?”

“Be my guest. I’ve got to figure out what Chloe brought me anyway.”

Quinn darted into the bathroom and washed up.

Life was such an odd thing at times. If it weren’t for things going wrong, she’d never have gotten to know Owen like she had.

She left the bathroom to Owen, scooped up her clothes and got dressed again before going in search of the promised food. The others had said something about Aunt Liv bringing up plates, but she’d been too wound up to think about food.

Quinn listened to the shower turn on.

What would life be like with Owen around?

Interesting, at least.

He was nothing like Dad. Never had been. Owen was a partner. Someone she could rely on.

She slid the bowl of shepherd’s pie into the microwave and picked her phone up from where it was charging on the counter.

There was an email.

She hadn’t hoped for one, but...there it was. When she’d typed that draft, she’d wondered if Zach was right, if whoever was out there would see her white flag and come to the table to figure out a resolution.

If she promised to give them everything they wanted, then no one had to die.

She could live a quiet life with Owen, raise her sister and find something else to pour herself into. HI-Co didn’t have to be it for her. There were other places she could work.

Q,

Got your note. Meet at your place. Alone.

There wasn’t a time, but if the timestamp was to be trusted, the email only arrived fifteen minutes ago. Right about when she was starting to see her world in a whole new light.

A week ago, she’d have fought this, but now she had Owen and the promise of a future. That future was worth fighting for.