Quinn

I glance back in the rearview and swear the same black four-door sedan has been following me for the past fifteen minutes. There’s nothing that stands out about the car, but these days it doesn’t take much to set me on edge. I switch lanes and slow my speed. It responds accordingly. My anxiety spikes. Clenching the steering wheel, I force myself to remain calm. I’m halfway to my house. I can’t go there now. The clock says three. Ollie might be home. He’s been toying with going back to work. Please be home. I press the button on my phone.

“Call Ollie.”

The seconds stretch like salt water taffy.

“Quinn?”

“Thank God.”

“What’s wrong. You don’t sound like yourself.”

I glance over my shoulder. “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s been this black car behind me for the past twenty minutes.”

“You think it’s following you?”

“Maybe. Could just be in my head.”

“Where are you?”

“About fifteen minutes away on Main Street.”

“Come over.”

“I don’t want to bring them to you if its—”

“Stop being so damn sassy for once, and let me help you. It’s my turn.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Stay on the phone until you get here. Are they still following you?”

I glance in the rearview. “Farther back, but yes.”

“Tell me about your day.”

“What?”

“Your day.”

“I ... uh, I had a gig with a model I’ve been working with for years. She needed new photos. It was fun.”

“Oh yeah. How did the pictures turn out?”

I cling to the normalcy he’s trying to provide.

“From what I saw they’re going to be gorgeous. I think she needed the boost. She’s been trying to break through for the past five years, and I think she’s losing her love for it.”

“That has to be tough.”

“Yeah, I think the new direction she’s trying for is going to do her well. It’s all about reinvention in that industry.”

“Do you work with a lot of models?”

“Not as much as I used to. You didn’t go to work today?”

He snorts. “Not on the job but behind the scenes. I’m catching up on what’s been going on and picking up the slack of the paperwork.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Sassy,” he mutters.

I giggle.

“Did I finally find a nickname you’re not going to shoot down?”

“I guess so. My reward for your persistence.”

“How could I be anything else when I know how worth the wait you are?”

I give a quick laugh. “Smooth.”

“I try.”

I take a right turn toward his home, and the car keeps going straight. “I’m an idiot.”

“What happened?”

“The car kept driving when I turned.”

“Come over anyway. I need a break, and I want to see you.”

The sincerity in his voice coaxes a smile. “Only if you promise to feed me.”

“Always hungry. I’ll do you one better. We’ll go out.”

“Like a date?” I ask as excitement fills me.

“Past time we had one, don’t you think?”

I smile. I wasn’t sure if the kiss the other day had been a one-off or the start of something new.

“Yes.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Since you’re feeding me, why don’t you pick?”

“How about we head over to Trinity Groves and pick when we get there?”

My mouth waters at the thought of the unique offerings from the incubator program which brought in fresh new restaurants trying to make a name for themselves. The Microbrewery they have adds to the charm. It’s a cultural event every time I go.

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?”

“I’m learning.”

“I’m pulling into your driveway.”

“I’m hanging up and escaping the mountain of paperwork in my office to meet you at the front door.” The dial tone in my ear makes me laugh. Ollie is a good kind of crazy I didn’t realize I needed in my life. I put the car into park and make my way up to the house. The door opens before I can knock and I bite my bottom lip as I take in his faded jeans and the plain black T-shirt stretched across his chest. The physical therapy and prescribed exercise are shaping and toning his body in ways that make my lady parts quiver. The sexual frustration that exists between us is real.

“You look good.”

He scans my frame. “So do you.”

I glance down at the khaki shorts and white peplum shirt. “I didn’t dress to impress.”

“You don’t have to try to do that.”

Placing my palm on his chest on the opposite side of his wound, I rise on my heels and keep my gaze glued to his as we kiss. The connection between us opens, and he slips his tongue into my mouth. I mold my lower body to his. He tugs on my hair, pulling it taut as he nips and sucks me into submission. I’m putty in his large, warm hands. Dazed, I peer up at him as he pulls away.

“We should go.”

“Uh huh.” He could say anything right now, and I’d go along with it.

He wraps an arm around my waist and guides me back the way I came.

“You want me to drive, sassy?”

“Yes, please.”

“Let me grab my keys.”

I admire his firm ass as he walks to the counter and grabs his keychain. He guides me to his hunter green truck and opens the passenger door for me. I didn’t expect him to be so damn polite.

“What? My mom raised me right.”

“I can see that.” There’s a lot to like about him.

I find myself scanning the area as he climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the truck up. Nothing stands out, but I can’t shake the apprehension lingering in the air. I roll down the window and try to relax as the sun warms my skin and the feeling of fear lessens.

He pulls into the parking lot, cuts the engine, and turns to me.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better with you here,” I say honestly.

He takes my hand. “We never really talked about the kiss in the apartment. It was more than hormones getting the best of us. I get that you’re gun-shy. We went through an insane event that changes us both. You’re worried we’re mistaking some sort of survivor’s bond with desire. I don’t think that’s the case. It brought us together, but it’s not keeping this thing alive between us. I want to see how far we can go. I’ve never been this into a woman or felt I vibed so well with one on this level. You get me, and I think I understand you. Attraction aside, we work damn well together. I’m old enough to know how rare that is. If you give me a chance, I’ll make sure you never regret it.”

He’s upfront and open. It’s one of the things I like most about him.

“It’s been a long time since I went the serious route, Ollie. I’m rusty, but I want to do this with you. I like you more than I ever intended to.”

He laughs. “I accept that.”

I squeeze his hand, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. Charming bastard.

“Enough with this seriousness. Let’s go have a good time. It’s what I bought you here for.” He let’s go of my hand, and I take a second to catch my breath. The man invigorates and stuns me with his authenticity. I was in a relationship with a bullshitter long enough to spot one when I see him. Oliver Hemnway is the real deal. It’s as terrifying as it is joy bringing.

He opens the door for me and holds out his hand to help me down. As I take the help he offers, it feels like more than assistance to get down—it’s the beginning of a journey with a man I’ve become quite enamored with.

He places my hand in the crook of his arm, and we make our way toward the sandstone bricked walkway that leads us to the restaurants. The tree topiaries and brightly colored flowers arranged in the large cement cylinders along the way are a nice touch. I’ve seen this place go up, expand, and develop over the years.

“I thought we could start at the brewery and try out some local things, maybe a sampler, and then just hop from place to place?”

“I’m down for that plan.”

We step beneath the tin roof, and the environment changes away from the sun. The shadows cast an intimate, romantic setting. I move closer to Ollie enjoying his silent strength. I’ll always feel safe with this man. He literally saved my life. While people would argue I returned the favor, what I did took humility, not guts. He showed true bravery. I’ll never forget that.

“Have you been taken the tour at Four Corners before?” he asks.

“I have. It’s incredible to think this all started in their garage.”

“I know, talk about the American dream,” he says.

“You’re kind of living proof of that, aren’t you?”

“Ehh. I always feel like I’m more a product of luck. I invested because Houston believed in it and he needed me. Without him, I’d never be a co-owner of a business. I didn’t have the foresight he did.”

“No, but you have the creativity and vision to create a viable brand.”

“We’re a good team,” he says.

Sexy and humble. He’s gaining brownie points all over the place.

We enter the rustic building with its shiny tin siding, concrete floors, and bright wooden tables and chairs. The posters are lime green, orange, acid wash orange, electric blue, and bee yellow with bold cartoons that illustrate the different beers. All of the names ooze Texas pride—Local Buzz, El Chignon, El Super Bee, Santana Ray, and Heart of Texas. When it comes to alcohol, I tend to be a beer girl. I’ll drink everything from pale ale to a nutty dark brew.

“Do you have a preference?”

“I try to do something new every time. I love the Local Buzz, but I’ll try El Super Bee this time. What are you going for?” I ask as we stand back and take in the menu.

“I’m going to do The Heart of Texas. I like ale, and red ale feels about right for three in the afternoon.”

I laugh. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, Ollie.”

“Ha, every time is the right time for beer given the proper motivations.”

I laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’ll order those. You relax.”

“I can split—”

“I thought I was feeding you?” He arches a brow, and I smile down at the table.

“Right.”

“You can get me next time, sassy.” He knocks on the table before he walks over to the register. I admire his gait as he approaches the counter. There’s a lot about Ollie to like.

I glance over my shoulder and watch the people go by. None of them look suspicious or interested in me. Maybe I do need to see a head shrinker. I’m trying to move past what happened, but it continues to haunt me, even as the nightmares fade. It feels like there’s unfinished business. Because I didn’t agree to testify or do a line up. I’ll always worry they’re out there watching and waiting.

Ollie returns with the drinks, and I put on a smile as I push the worry down.

***

OLLIE

There are shadows flickering in the depths of Quinn’s brown eyes. She’s worried about something. I can tell the signs. We’ve been one another’s sounding board and the main source of support since it all went down. We’re thinkers. We stew until we’re ready to share. She’s always stepped up and helped put my mind at ease. I refuse to fall short on providing that same level of comfort for her. I study her over the rim of my Beermomsa. Buzzed, and full, we’re sharing a Brownie 6 and finishing off our last drink. The toffee is dancing across my taste buds like it’s trying to win a trophy. Everything at LUCK is good. The comfort food menu with local flare and the fact that they have fresh local beer on tap always makes for a good evening.

Setting the beer down, I dig my spoon into the brownie on the plate sitting between us.

“We’re going to have to walk around after this unless you plan on rolling me to the truck.”

“Ha. No, I’m with you on the walk. They always have cool things in the shops, and you just can’t leave without hitting up the chocolatier.”

“Where are you putting all this food?” I scan her fit frame, astounded by the amount she’s packing in. I like a girl who isn’t afraid to eat.

She shrugs. “In my hollow leg according to my dad.”

“I think he’s right.” I take a sip of my beer and study her on the sly.

“This was exactly what I needed today. Thank you.”

“You feeling better?” I ask, careful to keep my tone light.

She takes a healthy bite of the brownie and frowns. “For the most part.”

“There’s something still bothering you, though.” I gently nudge her toward spilling her guts. All it takes is a little interest and the illusion that she’s choosing to tell me versus me prying.

She sighs. “It’s the situation itself. It’s just sort of ... still there, this unfinished thing lurking in the background waiting to pop up.”

“Have you decided if you’re going to do the lineup or agree to testify if it comes to that?”

“No.” She bows her head. “To be honest, I’m afraid.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I hate that it’s true. But it is.”

I take another bite of my food as I roll the words around in my head. If I answer this wrong, she may clam up.

“I think either way we’ll be afraid. But by testifying and identifying one of these bastards in a lineup, we can take some of our power back. Believe me. I thought about turning a blind eye and walking away, too.”

“So why aren’t you?”

“Doesn’t jive with me. It feels too much like saying it was okay to shit on me. That I’ll take whatever’s handed to me. Nah. I need to do this for me, or I’m never going to be able to move forward. Do you think you’ll be okay if you don’t?” I struggle to place my own wants aside and focus on her well-being. Without her, the case will be weaker. There’s a reason the D.A.C. keep getting away with murder. They’re intimidating.

“I don’t know.” Her face wrinkles up in disgust. “I hate being so wishy-washy.”

“Well, do you think it’ll be worse than it is now?” I ask posing the question differently.

“That’s the question I’m trying to answer.” She stabs the dessert with her spoon. “I’m not indecisive. This flaky crap is pissing me off.”

“Hey, give yourself time. I can’t tell you what to do, but I can promise you I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”

“They called me about a potential lineup. That’s why I feel rushed.”

I lean into her across the table. “What did you say?”

“That I’d get back with them.”

“And are you?” I hold my breath as I wait for her response.

“Yeah, I am. You know what? Screw this. I’m going to do it.”

I reach across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m with you. How do you feel?”

She sighs. “Better.”

We finish off our food, and I pay the check. Grabbing my hand, she pulls me out of the restaurant.

“Do you like art?” she asks.

“I’m not opposed to it,” I reply.

“Great, we’ll hit up the WorkRoom first.”

We step inside the store, and my eyes are automatically drawn to the bright black track lights highlighting the tables full of interesting wares. The space isn’t large—every inch seems to have a part to play—yet, it’s not overly crowded. They’ve mastered the art of marketing. My eyes are drawn to the beige hat boxes full of small toys and trinkets. I gravitate toward them with Rolly, Payton, and Ashley in mind.

“I forgot you have littles in your family. We’re still waiting for one of us to break the seal, so to speak.”

“They’re not really little anymore. The kids have grown so fast. I’m dealing with pre-teens, but Rolly is all about interesting toys.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“’Cause he’s cool like his old man.”

“There’s a thin line between cocky and confidence, Mr. Hemnway.”

“It’s fortunate I know how to walk between the two, isn’t it?” I wink and return my attention to the items as she heads over to what I call the smell good section. I find a cup and ball game with a red, green, and yellow strip. Rolly would love this. A few more searches finds a teal metal worked frame for Ashley, and a wooden carved keychain for Payton. She returns with a few boxes of diffusers in a pink box.

“One for me and one for my sister, Riley. She’s all about fragrances, crystals, and vibes. You’ll get the picture when you met her. She’s a massage therapist and Reiki Master.”

“She does some form of martial arts?”

She laughs. “No, it’s a sort of spiritual alignment.”

“Like the whole Chakra thing.”

“Exactly. I’m actually kind of impressed you knew that much.”

“Hey, I’m cultured.” I puff out my chest.

“Oh, I didn’t doubt it for a minute. Here.” She wiggles her hands.

“What?”

“I’m getting the gifts. You got the dinner, so it makes us even.”

“No. I can buy my own.”

“I know you can. But I want to do something.”

“You had dinner with me.”

“That doesn’t count.” She narrows her gaze. “Let me do this.”

“Why?” I ask, curious about her persistence.

“’Cause I don’t like to owe anyone.”

Her eyes flicker with pain. Someone dicked her over. “Good thing you don’t.” I refuse to let the ghost of anyone else intrude on what we have going. “My gifts will never come with a string attached. Relax and let me woo you, sassy.”

Her lips quirk upward. “Woo?”

“Yeah, can’t a man woo a woman anymore?”

“I’m shocked you even know that word,” she drawls.

“You’re going to have to learn to stop underestimating me, sassy.”

“I am, believe me.”

***

“IS THIS WHERE I WALK you up to your door?”

I cut the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt.

“No, this is where we end our night with a kiss.” I pop her buckle and pull her to my side. She meets me halfway, and I sample the taste of decadent chocolate and Quinn. She moans and I dart into her mouth, taking control as I cup the back of her neck. Her breasts press into my chest, and her arms wrap around my neck. I nip her bottom lip, and she gasps, arching into me. She’s glowing in the moonlight streaming into the cab. I suck in air as we rest our foreheads against one another.

“I should go,” she whispers.

“Yes, you should.” We said we’d take things slow, but all I can think about right now is her legs wrapped around my waist while she rides me. “You’re a temptation I’m having a hard time resisting.”

“You say the sweetest things, Ollie,” she says breathlessly as we untangle our limbs and exit the truck.

I walk her to her car and brush her lips briefly with my own. “If anything happens, whether it’s valid or not, I want you to call me, okay?”

She glances down.

I tip up her chin. “Quinn, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know you are.”

“We’re in this thing together, sassy.” I run my knuckles down the side of her face, and she leans into my hand.

“Yes, we are.”

After a second, I step back and open the door as she climbs in and places her bags on the passenger seat.