She woke up the next morning to the sound of birds singing in the trees outside their window. A cool breeze blew into the bedroom, making her snuggle deeper under the covers. Beside her West still slept, one arm flung above his head.
He looked relaxed in sleep, as if it were the only time he truly could relax.
Well, maybe not. There was one activity guaranteed to make this man unwind. Quinn traced a line up the ridges of his rippling abdomen, circling one small brown nipple.
Yawning, he rolled over, faced her. His hand smoothed down her hair.
“No regrets,” he murmured.
“None.”
West found another condom, put it on and kissed her neck. He rolled atop her and they began the rhythm she recognized. Slow and deep, as if they had all the time in the world. She moved with him, smooth as water, and stared up into his face. Fierce passion filled his dark eyes, but he smiled down at her.
Maybe she had no memory of their romance, their engagement, but her heart assured her that this man was hers, and she belonged to him. He would never do anything to hurt her, and she could trust him. Quinn wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him to go faster.
His pace increased and she met it as an equal. The feeling blossomed in her loins and they came together in a shattering climax, West groaning her name as she hugged him tightly to her.
They dozed off, drowsing in each other’s arms. And then West sat up, pushing a hand through his hair.
“Breakfast, and then I’m taking you on that fishing expedition I promised, before we go to Pine Paradise and then back to town.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Do you mind cleaning the fish I catch?”
The sexy grin he gave her melted her all over again. “So confident. If you catch one, I’ll clean it and you can cook it.”
He gave her a quick kiss and then padded naked out of bed to the bathroom. Sounds of the shower soon followed.
Quinn lay in bed, the bliss from lovemaking fading as the sun crept higher into the sky. Something nagged at her, a faint buzz like the hum of a mosquito. If she loved West and he loved her, and they were engaged, why did she suspect he was investigating her and her family? Was this all a farce so he could get closer to uncloak secrets?
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed, she joined him on the porch as they ate oatmeal and fresh fruit.
“You told me about your family. It’s time I told you about mine. About Demi and our relationship.”
West stiffened, the coffee mug halfway to his mouth. “Go on.”
“I wanted to be close to her, but our mothers weren’t exactly friends. Demi was an ideal for me.”
“Why?” He set down his mug, studied her with his dark, intense gaze. It felt as if he scrutinized her, wanted answers to questions that went far beyond her childhood. Quinn fiddled with her fork.
“I thought if I had a sister, even a half sister, that my family life would be complete. A sister would keep me company when my mom worked late, or dumped me with my grandparents when she jetted off to Vegas to marry again.
“Demi really wasn’t interested in being my friend. And that hurt. But I learned to live with it.” She stretched out her hands, studying the bruises and scrapes.
“I always wanted to have a large family, kids all gathered around the dinner table, around the tree at Christmas. Siblings to play with, fight with, anything to escape the constant fear that I wasn’t good enough for the steps in my life.”
“Stepfathers,” he said quietly.
Her childhood hadn’t been rosy, filled with lemonade stands and dolls and playtime. More like loneliness, of waiting for a mother to come home from work, or fearing that the new stepfather would not like her.
An endless parade of dads, like steps in a ladder, only leading nowhere.
Quinn stretched out her hands, showing the rough spots, the calluses, the broken nails.
“Look at me, West. I’m not glamorous. I don’t remember everything about my life, but I know I was poor. I came from the wrong side of the tracks. Everything I have, I’ve worked hard and long to keep. I may not have much, but what little I do have is important to me. It’s not easy being a woman business owner in a man’s world. Even more so being a respectable businesswoman when you’ve been stigmatized for having a father who’s a lowlife.”
He waited, watching her. She pressed on.
“I remember this—there were times I wanted to give up because it seemed so overwhelming. It was a dream to own Good Eats, a silly dream when I could have made money working for someone else. But I needed my business, needed to prove to myself and others I could do this. I’m not rich, in fact, I can barely pay the rent. But even though I’ve lost most of my memory, I know who I am.”
Quinn drew in a breath. “I’m Quinn Colton, a woman who fights to the end and doesn’t surrender. I’m not giving in to this amnesia and I’m not giving in to whoever attacked me. They will not win.”
West reached over, cupped her cheek. “No, they will not.”
A fierce pride and longing filled her. “And I’m not losing you, either. You may have secrets a foot deep, but if I cared about you enough to agree to marry you before all this happened, then this Quinn, the new Quinn, accepts that love. Even if she can’t remember it.”
Her mouth was warm and soft beneath his own as he bent his head and kissed her. West smoothed away an errant curl from her face. “Let’s take a break and go fishing.”
Her nose wrinkled. “You were serious about that?”
West found two fishing poles in the closet and a tackle box filled with lures, and a battered khaki hat with hooks stuck in the band. He plopped it on her curls.
“Perfect fit,” he teased.
“I can’t believe you’re going to take me fishing.”
“Of course. We made a deal about dinner, and I am always serious about fishing.”
Fishing provided a way to relax and free the mind. West hoped it would help Quinn remember.
An hour later, both of them wearing waders and flannel shirts, they arrived at the creek he knew to be prime fishing territory.
Standing at the creek’s edge, he showed her how to fly cast, sending the lure upstream so it floated downward. Fat speckled trout swam lazily in the current, but none bothered to nibble at the lures. Sunshine warmed his face as he reeled in the lure, and the cooling breeze from the canyon made it a perfect August day. Back in Red Ridge, the temps would be climbing past the high eighties, but here was paradise.
Quinn cast her line, reeling it in too fast. Rex barked at a daring trout that swam close to shore and began frisking in the icy water.
“Rex! Stop scaring the fish,” West ordered. “Go find. Squirrel!”
The dog bounded off into the woods. Quinn laughed. “You seriously taught him to hunt squirrels?”
He grinned. “If we don’t catch dinner, I hope you know how to cook squirrel.”
“You’re teasing.”
“Huh.” West dipped his head and gave her a brief, but sizzling kiss. “Maybe we should skip dinner and go to bed early.”
“Woman cannot live on love alone,” she quipped. “She needs tofu, too.”
Quinn laughed at his crestfallen expression.
He showed her how to fly cast once more, and let the lure wriggle to attract the trout. And then her line tugged.
“I got one!” Quinn spun the reel, her face alight with pleasure.
“Great job! I’m cooking dinner tonight.” West fetched the net.
It felt wonderful to be there with her, no problems, no one pestering them. Before leaving, they would explore Pine Paradise. But for now, he’d remain in this snug illusion that all was well.
Although in his heart, he knew it was not.