Reaching For Risks Page 2

  Someone new?

  Some-woman-new?

  He couldn’t base a life decision on the fact that none of the women who’d propositioned him lately had anything to offer.

  Well, they had sex to offer but that wasn’t enough anymore. They weren’t enough.

  And the woman he did want couldn’t seem to look him in the eye.

  Maybe it was time to move on.

  Circling around the decision was making him nuts.

  The chime above the door that sounded like a referee’s whistle blew again and Quinn glanced up to find his buddy Sawyer Banks and his lady, Myla, smiling at each other as they walked into the store. One of those we-only-need-each-other-so-screw-the-world smiles.

  It generated another itchy feeling. Maybe it was a woman he needed. Quinn ran his hands over his face. He was driving himself crazy.

  His buddy had sure lucked out when the little writer had bumped into town in that ridiculous neon green car of hers. Of course, it had been a couple of crazy weeks before Sawyer had clued in but it had been fun to watch. Well, except for the idiot from Sawyer’s past trying to off the two of them but they’d sorted that out too.

  Sawyer slung his arm over Myla’s shoulder and hauled her up on her toes to kiss her like he meant it. When the kiss extended past comfortable, Quinn moved around the counter to approach them. “You guys trying to move spring along with all that heat? You’re going to make my customers think this is a whole different kind of shop.”

  Myla’s cheeks flushed crimson but Sawyer just looked smug. Made Quinn’s itch itchier. Maybe he needed to rethink the hookups.

  Arm still around Myla, Sawyer guided her through the racks toward the back. On her own, she nearly always got stuck between the piles of overstuffed winter clothes. “You ever going to get your ass in gear and expand already? There’s barely room to move in here.”

  “Thinking about it.” He either had to expand the store up into the second-floor apartment or buy a storage unit. Something. And soon. Or move.

  “Make a decision already and deal with it. You’re going to lose someone in this maze soon.”

  True. “You come in to complain?”

  The two exchanged a look that had Quinn squirming. They really needed to get a room.

  And he needed to get laid.

  Myla grinned and flashed her hand at him. Left hand. Sparkly, big-ass diamond on it. “Holy shit. You guys are engaged?” Quinn pulled Myla from Sawyer’s grip and spun her in a tight hug then kissed her on the lips.

  Sawyer growled and tried to tug her back and Quinn grinned. “You jealous, man? I can kiss you too.” The burly former SEAL glowered at him. Myla laughed as Quinn put her down and then he pulled Sawyer into a hug. “Congratulations, you two. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  “You up for best man duties when the time comes?”

  A jumble of emotions ran through him. Happiness. Pride. Envy. “Hell, yeah.” Another round of hugs had them all laughing when a huge crack sounded throughout the shop. The floor shook, sending vibrations all through his body.

  Sawyer reacted instantly, throwing Myla to the floor and covering her body with his while yanking Quinn down with his other hand. “What the hell was that?”

  Silence followed the crack for a long minute then some creaks and groans. Quinn raised up his head and he and Sawyer looked around. Myla couldn’t move from under her fiancee’s protection and recent circumstances probably had her scared to move. Although not much scared her for long. Sawyer was a lucky man.

  The crash and creaks were coming from upstairs. No one was up there but that crash wasn’t someone knocking something off a shelf. Quinn pushed to his feet and spoke to Sawyer. “Take her outside. I’m heading up.” He didn’t pause to see if they listened, instead he jogged to the back and up the stairs, slowing as he neared the top, wondering if he should have grabbed some kind of weapon.

  Quinn eased open the door at the top of the stairs. It didn’t take long to spot the cause of the crash. A huge hole gaped in his front wall, ripping it from the roof down to the floor. One of Bloo Moose’s iconic light poles with its lamp topped in antlers angled through the rip and hovered over his bed.

  Shit.

  Looked like the universe wanted him to make a decision already.

  Champagne Regrets

  Darby hefted the last of the suitcases into the trunk of Mrs. Theriault’s tank-sized Buick. The three ladies gathered her close in hugs scented with lavender and roses.

  “Thank you for everything, my dear. We’ve had another lovely time.” Mrs. Reyes patted her arm. “I hope we didn’t upset you with our conversation last night. We only want what’s best for you.”

  “Of course. It’s fine.” If fine meant feeling as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

  She didn’t want to get into this. A sleepless night spent worrying and planning and regretting and remembering had taken its toll and she needed to escape to the solitude of her two week Reno Plan.

  And consider actually implementing her Risk Plan along with it. Although she was tempted to rip that page out and maintain the status quo.

  Mrs. Theriault tilted her head. “I do think you could be quite pretty with a little work. You’ve got good features hiding under all that drab.”

  The other two women smiled as Darby gaped like one of the large-mouthed bass out in the lake.

  Instead of stopping, the older woman pointed her car keys at Darby. “You’re too young to be hiding away from life. Get out and have some fun before you’re too old to enjoy it.”

  Mrs. LeClair snorted. “As if that ever stopped us.”

  The three laughed while Darby continued to blink. Time for another strategic retreat. Plastering on a plastic smile, or as much of one as she could muster, Darby stepped up onto the curb.

  “We have had some delightful, well, let’s call them encounters over the years, haven’t we ladies?” Mrs. Theriault’s smile was carnal. And terrifying. Another step in retreat.

  “Remember to buy some lipstick. Do you want the name of the brand we use?”

  Nope. No geriatric lipstick for her. “I’m good, thanks. Have a safe trip ladies.” When her hand gripped the stair railing for the B&B, she sighed in relief and stepped up.

  Mrs. Reyes turned to her friends. “Do you think that spicy Mr. Simmons has a son? He might be able to show our Darby how to have some fun.”

  Not unless a nuclear disaster wiped out every other man in the entire species. Maybe not even then.

  “His father certainly knows how to show a lady a good time.”

  Back up, back up, back up.

  “Next time, we can arrange a double date. Or an octo-date. We all have men we can call.”

  Not happening. “The phone. My phone’s ringing.” Using the same lie was weak but she couldn’t think of anything better. “Have a safe ride, ladies. See you next year. Bye.” Not caring if they believed her lie or not, Darby turned and fled up the remaining stairs. Once inside, she slammed the door closed and turned the deadbolt.

  Running away. Like yesterday.

  How many times had she run away instead of standing her ground? Far too often. The Buick rumbled away then roared off to terrorize another part of Vermont.

  Darby blew out a relieved breath. Sometimes running away was definitely the best option.

  Shoving off the door, Darby moved to the kitchen to heat up some tea and decide on a plan of attack. The next two weeks would be busy. She’d hired Rayce LaChance, local carpenter extraordinaire, to help with the bigger items but the leftovers would have her buzzing.

  Leaving her no time for the Risk List.

  It almost worked as an excuse.

  Grabbing a brownie, Darby pulled her notebook out of the drawer and sat at the island to wait for the kettle.

  Reno List or Risk List?

  With the Nosy Trinity’s words ringing in her ears, she flipped to the second list.

  Marshmallow jumped onto the counter and sat down with his front paws
crossed on the notebook so she couldn’t flip the page.

  “Fine. I’ll try.”

  How was she supposed to do this when the first item threw her into fits of panic? Makeup. What did she know about makeup?

  Weren’t women supposed to instinctively know this stuff? Her mom had probably worn it but her parents had been killed when Darby was in high school and she didn’t remember as clearly as she wanted to anymore.

  It might have been more than a decade since a drunk driver had orphaned her and Sawyer but the ache would always be there.

  And while she’d always miss her mom, Darby couldn’t blame her lack of feminine know-how on the loss. Not even on him. She wasn’t giving him any more power. She wasn’t even going to think about him. Instead, she’d focus on the list.

  Makeup. “It can’t be that bad,” she told the cat. “I’ve painted rooms, trims, banisters. I’ve stained decks. A couple of lips shouldn’t be that hard.”

  Anything could be found on the internet and it would be less embarrassing than shopping in an actual store where it would be obvious she didn’t have a clue what she was doing.

  It only took about three seconds for shock to set in. The web search resulted in seventy-five million results. Million. Seventy-five million. How was she supposed to choose one from there?

  “Maybe I should have taken Mrs. Theriault up on her offer.”

  Clicking on the first link, Darby was faced with more choices. Lacquer. Moisturizing. HD. Wasn’t that for televisions? Matte. Color Burst. Stain. Stain? Like the stuff she used on the deck? Liquid. Suede.

  Dozens of colors in each option. Even green. When had green lips become popular? And why?

  Okay, forget lipstick. Mascara. She’d bought mascara before. It hadn’t seemed that bad.

  “Only fifty million sites, Marshmallow. Much better.” Grinning, Darby clicked on the first link and sighed. Volumize. Lengthen. Glamorize. Plumpify. Clump-crush.

  Black. Brown. Brown-black? Blue?

  Super. Mega. Ultra. Extra.

  No matter where she clicked, the choices overwhelmed her until she shoved the tablet across the island and grabbed another brownie. Maybe there was a Dingbat’s Guide to Makeup she could buy.

  Marshmallow watched the brownie closely and then checked the kitchen clock. “You don’t eat for a few hours. Relax.” The cat flicked his tail at her, leapt off the counter and disappeared down the hallway.

  Males had it easy.

  Needing to feel at least a little competent, Darby pulled her paint samples out of the drawer and spread them over the counter. These choices made sense to her. She rifled through the strips until she pulled out the current contenders for the front sitting room. Serene Sea Breeze, a soothing soft green and Clambake, a cream with a hint of pink. She’d narrowed it down from hundreds of choices by going with her gut and knowing her clientele.

  All she had to do was apply the same principles to lipstick. She was the clientele so that part was easy. Once she could push past the panic, surely she’d find out what her gut liked. Maybe something like the Clambake. The soft color wouldn’t make her feel like she’d painted on neon.

  As she pulled the tablet back toward her, the back door rattled then a knock sounded. “Open up, Darb, the Nosy Trinity is long gone.” Sawyer.

  Smiling, Darby opened the door and stepped back to let her brother and Myla in. It took only seconds for the glow and joy on Myla’s face to register. Darby’s eyes moved quickly to her left hand and spotted the ring.

  “You’re engaged!” Myla nodded and both women squealed. Darby threw her arms around her and they bounced in circles. When they broke apart, there were tears in Myla’s eyes and Darby knew she was grinning like a fool.

  Sawyer had been her rock when their parents had died. Probably before that and definitely since. He’d only been a few years older but he’d taken care of it all and let her fall apart. When she had it together, he’d joined the military to ensure they had enough money to create futures for themselves then worked his ass off to fulfill his dream of becoming a SEAL.

  He’d worked hard and played little. When Afghanistan had happened, he’d tried to freeze his heart. Whatever had happened had been bad so bad Darby hadn’t been sure he’d ever be able to be a regular civilian again. But Myla had warmed that frozen heart and the smile Darby loved so much reappeared often.

  Now, he leaned back against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his massive chest and a soft smile on his face as he watched them. After another hug for Myla, Darby released her friend and flung herself at her brother. He caught her easily and swung her in a circle as tears filled her eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Sawyer. You know they’d love Myla and they’d be so happy for you.”

  Sawyer’s arms banded around her until she had to struggle for breath.

  “You guys are going to make me cry.” Myla’s voice shook with emotion and instead of letting Darby go, Sawyer simply swept his fiancee into the group hug and they all hung on until they got control of themselves.

  Finally, Sawyer squeezed them both then released them. Darby wiped her eyes and smiled. “Champagne. We need champagne. But I don’t have any so I’ll grab the best wine I can find.”

  Before she managed to move even a step, Myla snagged her arm. “Before you do that, I have a question I’d like to ask you.” Myla’s expression changed from joy to tension. “I don’t have any family.” The worry shimmered away as she looked at her fiancee. “Not yet, anyway. I’m looking forward to having a sister. Do you think you could start a little early?” Myla waved her hands in front of her face. “Sorry. I’m making a mess of this. I want to know if you’d agree to be my maid of honor.”

  Darby’s heart filled and she nodded. “I’d love too.” Finding a friend was going to be the first thing Darby would be able to cross off her list.

  Myla squealed and hugged Darby again. “Thank you. You were my first friend here in Bloo Moose.” Her voice shook with tears. “In a lot of ways, my first friend ever. Thank you.”

  Darby swallowed her own tears and hugged hard. She didn’t know everything about Myla’s background other than she’d grown up in foster homes and it hadn’t been easy.

  Behind them, Sawyer heaved a huge sigh into the room. “Are we done with all this crying stuff yet?”

  His hard-done-by tone had both women laughing as they pulled apart. Sawyer immediately yanked his fiancee into his arms and twirled her around the room. When she laughed, he grinned and kissed her loudly. “Much better.”

  Darby reached into the cupboard and took down three wine glasses.

  “Grab another one, Darb, my best man’s heading over, too.”

  Darby’s stomach tightened and her hand trembled as she grabbed another glass.

  It wouldn’t be him. She couldn’t be that unlucky. Sawyer had lots of friends. Gage LaChance. Either of the LaChance twins. The police chief, Dave Belanger. Even his captain from the SEALs. Anyone.

  But it wouldn’t be any of them. She knew it.

  Darby moved to the walk-in pantry to gather a few snacks to go with the wine and to calm her nerves. She could do this.

  After a few deep breaths, Darby gathered some cookies for a tray and headed back to the kitchen. As she reentered the room, the outer door opened and confirmed her suspicions.

  Quinn Charters.

  How was she going to cope?

  AS soon as he opened the door to the B&B, Quinn’s eyes were wrenched to where Darby was walking out of the pantry. Like a damn magnet. Her chocolatey eyes pulled at him, even when they were as cold as the frozen lake.

  Like now.

  Like pretty much always.

  If only he could figure out what he’d done to piss her off.

  If only it didn’t matter so much.

  Change that. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it.

  Loads of women didn’t freeze up when he walked into a room. They made eye contact. Hell, some of them tripped over themselves to make body contact, too. It shouldn’t m
atter if one brunette with haunted eyes couldn’t have a conversation with him.

  Didn’t matter at all.

  Darby blinked at him then her eyes shied away as she carried a tin from the panty. Probably something she’d baked and while he rarely earned a taste on his own merits, snitching some of Sawyer’s stash was always worth the risk.

  Sawyer grinned at him and offered a glass of wine. When they all held a glass, Sawyer held his up. “To our maid of honor and best man.”

  Crap.

  Didn’t Myla have anyone from her pre-Bloo Moose life to choose? Apparently not if she’d chosen a woman she’d only known for a couple of months.

  Quinn might not know squat about weddings but he’d bet the rules included him and Darby spending time together. Which would be great if she could look him in the eye. Or use full sentences when she spoke to him.

  Even as they clinked their glasses, she avoided looking at him. Glanced at his chest, his shoulders, his hands then away. Never at his face. Made him want to hold her head in place so she’d be forced to see him and tell him what bothered her so much.

  At least he only had a few minutes today before he was meeting with Rayce about fixing the hole in his building. And he still hadn’t decided exactly what he wanted to do with the store. Fix it back the way it was? Renovate to make the whole second story into storage? Keep a small apartment and use the rest for overflow stock?

  As if on cue, his cell buzzed. Rayce. Quinn replied to his text, telling his friend that he was at the B&B and would be at CharterGear soon. When he looked back up, Sawyer had wrapped Myla in another of those screw-the-world kisses. He glanced at Darby to find her smiling softly at the couple. Until she caught his eye and stiffened again.

  Sawyer broke off the kiss but kept his arm hooked around Myla’s shoulder. “Was that Rayce?” Even locked in an embrace, the former SEAL didn’t miss much.

  Quinn nodded. “Meeting him soon.”