Kendra and Jim had established a routine of having breakfast together at the house after the horses were fed. Zane usually headed home, but sometimes Faith and Cody would come up to eat and discuss ranch business. Or more recently, wedding plans.

This morning, though, Cody went to check on Faith, which left Kendra with Jim and Quinn in her kitchen. She’d been relatively calm with having Quinn participate in the meal prep the night before. After sharing her kitchen with Jim most mornings for the past several months, she was used to him being there, too.

Having them both around shouldn’t have been a problem. And it wasn’t for them. They had a great time discussing the pros and cons of various horse breeds, innovative training techniques and feeding regimens.

Meanwhile they worked right alongside her to get the meal on the table. She couldn’t find a single thing to complain about and yet she was on edge the entire time. She dropped an egg on the floor, forgot to turn on the coffee pot and turn off a burner on the stove.

Jim finished his meal first and pushed back his chair. “I hate to eat and run, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a list of chores a mile long.” He put his dishes in the dishwasher. “Nice talking with you, Quinn.”

“Same here, Jim.”

After he left, Quinn leaned back in his chair. “What is it?”

She pretended ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting like a bee caught in a Mason jar, buzzing around, smacking up against the glass. Is it my fault?”

“No, it’s…okay, not your fault, exactly, but …” She groaned. “Quinn, I’ve never been in this position before! I don’t know how to be, what to do. The last time I felt this way I was a teenager.”

“So was I.”

“Oh.” She allowed that to sink in. “Have you been celibate all that time, too?”

“No.”

“Then…”

His gaze was steady. “I didn’t feel like this.”

“Oh.” Getting hot in this kitchen. She’d almost believe she’d left the oven door open in addition to her other screw-ups. She glanced away. If she kept staring into his eyes, no telling what might happen.

“But I don’t want to upset you.” He covered her hand with his.

Whoa. One touch and she was plugged into a current that traveled straight to her lady parts. She took a deep breath but didn’t move her hand.

His voice was gentle. “If you need me to make myself scarce, I can do that. I’d offer to leave, but that wouldn’t be so easy right now.”

“I don’t want you to leave. Or make yourself scarce.” She summoned the courage to look at him. “Not since you were a teenager, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“Then how come you’re not, as you said, buzzing like a bee caught in a Mason jar?”

“I am. That’s why I didn’t sleep last night.”

“But this morning at the barn you were cool as a cucumber. Just now you talked with Jim like nothing was bothering you at all. You handled the comments about mustaches and kissing without blinking.”

“I don’t tend to let people see what’s going on inside.” His thumb caressed the back of her hand.

Each slow brush across her skin ramped up the tension coiling in her body. “Is that healthy?”

“Not particularly. Read an article about it that suggested taking up a hobby as a safety valve. I chose scratchboard art.”

“Wow, that’s turned out well.” She was surprised she could carry on a conversation considering her insides were dancing the hoochie coochie.

“It has. If I’d had a sketchpad, I could’ve spent the night drawing.”

“So you’re a self-contained man, is that it?”

“That’s my default setting.” He held her gaze. “Until I know I can trust someone.”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

He just smiled.

The wealth of meaning in that smile sent the air whooshing out of her lungs. She was a goner. If he pulled her out of her chair right now…

Instead he gave her hand a squeeze and let go. “I’d better get started draining that fuel tank.” He stood, picked up her dishes plus his and carried them to the dishwasher.

She remained seated, not sure if her legs would hold her if she tried to get up.

He returned to the table. “I’ll check in with you later about our lunch plan.” Leaning down, he lightly kissed her cheek. Then he left the kitchen.

After she heard the front door open and close, she flopped face down on the table, a dramatic gesture she used to do all the time at seventeen. Seemed about right.

Quinn headed up to the cabin and changed into yesterday’s clothes before walking to the new barn. He’d needed the break to calm the hell down. Falling prey to RWD could be dangerous, even deadly. The acronym fit two circumstances—Repairing While Distracted and Repairing While Drunk.

He’d never worried about either one. Getting drunk didn’t appeal to him anymore and over the years he’d improved on his natural ability to focus.

But the lovely Kendra McGavin was messing with his concentration. After he’d stepped inside the cabin, he’d stood immobile for at least a minute daydreaming about her. Then he’d needed another ten seconds to figure out why he’d gone up there in the first place.

Even then, changing clothes had taken twice as long because he’d ended up sitting there with one boot on and the other dangling from his hand while he relived their kitchen conversation.

She was so easy to read. She’d been born with her heart on her sleeve and that made her even more precious to him. Toward the end of that discussion, she’d been all in.

One soft word, one tender kiss, and they would have ended up back in her bedroom. She might have changed her mind after they’d arrived, especially because it was broad daylight.

He’d had no intention of making love to her this morning, though. Not that he didn’t want to, but she left the ranch house unlocked and any number of people could show up looking for her. He’d forgo taking her to bed if there was any risk of embarrassing her.

Considering the number of people around the place, finding a private opportunity could turn into a major challenge. And that was assuming she let go of her reservations long enough to let it happen.

He approached the barn and stopped several yards away, cussing softly under his breath. What an idiot he was. He couldn’t drain the fuel tank without a gas can and a funnel. His preoccupation with making love to Kendra had made him forget to ask her where he might find those things. No question she’d have them but he had no idea where to look.

But as he drew near the barn’s open doors, the rhythmic swish and thunk of someone mucking out stalls meant he’d find help inside. Sure enough, Faith was at the far end of the barn with a wheelbarrow. He called out a greeting.

She dumped the rake into the wheelbarrow before turning toward him. “You’re here!” She flipped her braid over her shoulder and started toward him.

“Yes, ma’am, but I thought you were under the weather.”

“I was, but I’m fine, now.” She pulled off her gloves. “You shaved off your mustache.”

“I did.” He waited for her comment. Everybody seemed to have one.

“Your lip, your choice. Are you going to start working on your Harley?”

Clearly she didn’t want to spend time talking about his late, great soup strainer. Good. “That’s the plan, but I forgot to ask about a gas can and a funnel.”

“I put them in the stall already.”

“Why, thank you. Much appreciated.”

“I also put kitty litter in there, just to be on the safe side in case you spill some gas. I always keep it on hand. Stuff happens.”

“Now I see what everybody means. You think like a mechanic.”

She tucked her gloves in a back pocket of her jeans. “Dad says I started taking an interest early, around four.”

“That’s pretty darned young.”

“Engines are so straightforward.” She gave a little shrug. “Way easier to understand than people.”

He laughed. “Isn’t that the truth? Anyway, thanks for providing exactly what I needed. Guess I’ll get started.”

“Can I watch?”

“Absolutely.” He walked with her to the front of the barn and opened the stall door. Besides the items she’d mentioned, a green metal tool box sat on the floor by the bike. He glanced at her. “Yours?”

“Just in case you need something you didn’t bring with you.”

“I’m honored that you’d share your tools.”

“I don’t usually.” She gave him a shy look. “But that bike’s in great shape for how old it is. I figure I can trust you.”

“You certainly can.” Crouching by the tool box, he flipped the latch, opened it and gave a low whistle. “And I thought mine was well-organized.” He gazed up at her. “That’s the neatest tool box I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She gave him that cute little gap-toothed smile and her blush temporarily blotted out her freckles. “Thank you.”

“Ever worked on a motorcycle before?”

“No, sir. Never had that opportunity.”

“Well, you’re about to.”

Her green eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Might as well learn on a vintage Harley, right?”

“Heck, yeah.”

Quinn proceeded to have the time of his life coaching Faith. He assisted when necessary, but mostly he talked her through the process and let her have the hands-on experience.

Along the way he fielded her questions about the engine and what he’d done over the years to keep it running smoothly. He ended up having her check out the engine, too. Working with her took longer than if he’d drained the fuel tank himself, but where was the fun in that?

They were nearly done when Cody showed up. “Thought I’d find you here. Ready to go up to the house?”

She smiled. “Quinn let me do it. Now I know how to get the fuel tank off a 1983 Harley and a whole bunch more about this bike. I think we should get one.”

“And I think that’s a discussion for another day.”

Faith glanced at Quinn. “Translated, that means he’s not on board with it. We’ll negotiate.”

Quinn laughed. “I know all about that. Thank you for your help with my bike.”

“I had a blast. I’d love to help solder it this afternoon, but I have back-to-back riding lessons.”

Cody lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Thank you, God.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Quinn would be there and he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“I’m sure he does, but…” He glanced at Quinn. “Nothing against you, sir, but we’re—”

“Getting married a week from Saturday.” Faith completed Cody’s sentence. “And you want to make sure I don’t catch my hair on fire. I get it.” She turned to Quinn. “Thank you so much. Keep the tool box until you’re finished.”

Cody glanced at it in obvious surprise. “You loaned him your tools?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Hey, Quinn, you rate, buddy. She guards those with her life. I count myself privileged because she lets me use them if I ask her first.”

“I count myself privileged, too. Thanks, Faith.”

“You’re welcome.” She looped her arm through Cody’s. “See you tonight, Quinn.”

He drew a blank. “Tonight?”

“When we’re making favors. You said you’d be available.”

“Which I most certainly will be. Wouldn’t miss it.” Especially now that he knew the bride a lot better. He was a little sad he wouldn’t be here for the wedding.

But his life was in Spokane. Most of it, anyway. He couldn’t deny that a tender sprout had taken root in Eagles Nest.