Reaching For Risks Page 4

  Obviously wanting to get away from him, she turned toward the door but stopped when she spotted him still leaning against the door frame. Instead, she moved back to the window and stared out.

  “Something wrong, Darby?”

  “No.” But she didn’t look at him. “I think you’ll enjoy the view from here.” As if he hadn’t lived in Bloo Moose for the past decade. “We’re not on the boardwalk but this room still has a view of the lake. It’s beautiful when the sun sets behind the mountains over there.”

  Quinn shoved off the doorframe and moved to stand behind her. She flinched when he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Relax, Darby. I’m not a guest.” Ignoring his body’s desire to press against her, he kneaded her shoulder muscles softly. “I’m not going to bite.”

  Her soft intake of breath had him chuckling and imagining doing just that. He only had to lean down and nip that cord running from her ear to where his hands worked. Nibble at the ear and work his way south.

  Beneath his hands, her pulse quickened and he heard her taking deliberate breaths.

  Good.

  He wasn’t the only one affected. Not the only one feeling the crazy zing of chemistry zapping between them.

  Were her nerves because she was attracted to him but didn’t want to be? Slightly insulting if that was true. He wasn’t a bad guy. She couldn’t be afraid of him. He wasn’t scary. He’d never hurt a woman. Ever.

  Had she been hurt by someone? Was she nervous around every man? No. She hadn’t been bothered at all when Rayce had tucked her under his arm. Surely, he’d have heard some gossip if the two were dating. Gossip was one of Bloo Moose’s major industries. Until he had some evidence, he’d say they were friends. So, who was the last guy she’d dated? No one he’d noticed in a while. And, he would have noticed.

  Darby’s breathing changed and she started to squirm under his hands. Figuring he’d made a little step of progress, he gave one final squeeze then backed away and turned to his bags, giving her a line of escape to the door. Perversely, he hoped she wouldn’t take it. “So, what colors are you considering for the front room? Tell me you’re not going pink or something equally terrifying.”

  “Pink is not terrifying.” The laugh was back in her voice, although it was a bit shaky.

  He shot her a look. “Pink is most definitely terrifying. You can’t seriously be doing that. Not if you want men to come back a second time.” Her mouth twisted into a pout and he realized she was considering pink. “Come on, Darby, pink? No way.”

  Hands on her hips, Darby tilted her head at him. “Seriously? It’s not that big a deal, it’s just a color.”

  “Nope. Pink is never just a color. It’s a statement. Old-biddies-of-the-world-unite kind of statement.”

  A laugh snorted out of her before she squeezed those lips together. She tried to look insulted but couldn’t pull it off. “What would you suggest? Brown? Gun-metal grey?”

  “How about camo?”

  Another burst of laughter had him grinning back at her. Darby laughing was a very good sight. Quinn dumped his bag on the foot of the bed and turned back to the door. “Come on and show me this hideous pink you’ve chosen.”

  He waited for her to pass him and lead the way down the stairs, keeping up the insults on her chosen color. The banter kept her relaxed. More relaxed than he’d seen in a while. Maybe ever.

  In the kitchen, she waved him to a stool and poured them each another cup of coffee. She also unwrapped a loaf of banana bread that was sitting on the counter and sliced some up. While she grabbed plates, he pulled her notebook toward him. “Are your color choices in here?”

  The knife clattered to the counter and she squealed as she turned and snatched the notebook away from him and clutched it to her chest. “Holy hell, Darby. I wasn’t trying to steal the thing.”

  Darby’s face flushed until she looked sunburned, igniting his curiosity. He picked up his cup and sipped as he studied her. Her eyes skittered around the room, her fingers gripped the notebook tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. No way was her renovation list the only thing in the book. Curiosity piqued, he watched the telltale nerves. Something much more interesting than renovations. “What’s in the notebook, Darby? What are you hiding in there?”

  “Nothing.” but she clamped the notebook like it might sprout wings and fly away.

  “Doesn’t look like nothing. If you’re not willing to tell me, maybe I’ll have to guess. What would you hide in that notebook?” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t look at him. “An expose on the Nosy Trinity? An article on the drugs they pedal to nursing homes under cover of visiting B&Bs across Vermont?”

  Her lips quirked in a smile and she blew out a soft breath. Not even close—obviously—but her reaction told him she was totally embarrassed by whatever it was. Keep her off balance. “I bet Myla’s inspired you and you’re writing an anonymous blog about the B&B business.”

  An eye roll had her relaxing again.

  “No? Something a little sexier?” Darby shook her head and tried to smile but her color deepened. He was on to something. “A romance novel filled with juicy sex scenes?” No eye contact but her lips curved upward as she shook her head. “Too bad. I’d enjoy reading those, maybe helping you fine-tune them.”

  “There’s nothing interesting in here other than the Reno List. You surprised me, that’s all.”

  Not a chance.

  In contrast to her words, she slid the notebook into a drawer as far away from him as possible then picked up the knife she’d dropped and put it in the sink. After taking a visible breath, she brought over the banana bread she’d sliced. Quinn grabbed a piece and continued to study her as he chewed. Her eyes moved from the laptop to the drawer to him and back. Embarrassed and a little nervous but not scared.

  What had been on the laptop earlier? Clothes. Sexy clothes. “Sketches of the Nosy Trinity wearing lingerie?”

  Darby giggled at that one. “You’re ridiculous. It’s nothing. Let me show you the paint samples.” She pulled open a drawer closer to him and pulled out four separate binder rings loaded with more paint samples than any hardware store he’d ever been in. The move was probably a distraction but it worked.

  He grabbed one and spun out the colors on the countertop as she did the same with the others. “You have a serious paint chip problem, Darby. There are places you can go for help, you know. Addiction services. You don’t have to live like this.”

  Another soft laugh showed she was relaxing. Not that he was going to forget the notebook. Not with some kind of sexy secret inside.

  “I like to think about all the different options before I narrow it down.” Her prim voice made him want to kiss those pursed lips.

  He flipped through the choices. “You’ve got about a billion choices here and you chose pink? You really do need help.”

  This time she swatted at his upper arm. In only a few seconds, she sorted through the samples and pointed at one. “Here. It’s called Clambake and it’s not terrifying and it’s not even really pink.”

  Quinn raised an eyebrow at her but she nodded her head to show him she wasn’t kidding. He picked up the sample and flipped it over to see if she’d given him the wrong side. “It’s not even as interesting as pink, Darby. It’s white. Boring old white.”

  “It’s not white, it’s pink. Clambake.” She snatched away the strip then sorted through the pile again. “Okay, here’s my second choice. Serene Sea Breeze.”

  Quinn resisted the urge to slap his forehead. The woman didn’t have the confidence to pick a real color. Like she didn’t have the confidence to dress in clothes that fit. Or look him in the eye.

  If nothing else, he could help her with that. Tease her into stretching herself a bit. The flashes of humor he’d seen so far told him there was a lot of fun hiding in that oversized shirt. “It’s almost as white as the pink one. Are you trying to bore your guests to death?”

  “Hey.”

  “Come on, Darby, pick a real color. Why no
t this?” He yanked a deep green paper out of the pile then a steel blue then a shade he didn’t have a name for. Kind of a bluey-purple thing. “Liven up the place. You want everyone coming back, not only the boring biddies.”

  That earned him another smirk and he knew he had her thinking.

  “Pick something fun. Something with some life. Live on the wild side.” He shoved away the pale color samples and pushed the darker ones in front of her. “Come on, honey, take a risk.”

  DARBY barely resisted wringing her hands after she placed her paint cans in the middle of the drop cloths they’d laid on the floor of the front room. Quinn brought in two more cans then straightened and waved at the cans with a flourish. “Time to do the honors, my lady.”

  Picking up a screwdriver, she knelt down to loosen the lid. Quinn’s choice of words had forced her to pick a different color from her original selections when he’d told her to take a risk. And to live a little. He had no idea.

  The fact that choosing bold-colored paint had completely terrified her, proved how much she needed the Risk List. Paint shouldn’t cause her to want to vomit. Not just pathetic but wimpy and pathetic.

  “It’s a color, Darby, not a snake. Open it.”

  She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him and turned back to the can. Just a color. She pried off the lid and sat back on her heels. So dark.

  “You know as well as I do that it’ll look different on the walls. Relax. Give it a shot.”

  His teasing tone made her breathe. It was only paint. “I can paint over it if I hate it.”

  His laugh made her grin. He’d been laughing with her all day. Sometimes it drove her nuts but most of the time it made her laugh too. Something else she hadn’t done lately.

  “That’s the spirit. Positivity in action.”

  Pressing her lips together to keep in the smile, Darby poured paint into two trays and passed Quinn a roller. “Let’s do this.”

  Hours later, she put down her roller and took a deep breath. The dark walls tried to close in on her. Too dark. Her guests wouldn’t feel comfortable. Ever. It was awful.

  Two strong hands dropped onto her shoulders, making her jump. “Relax.” He was always telling her that. Either he was a hippie or she was way too tense. And while Quinn looked like a prototypical surfer boy, he ran a highly successful retail business and was no more a hippie than he was a member of the Nosy Trinity.

  Which meant she was too tense. No surprise. If she had to add Learn how to have fun to her Risk List, she wasn’t exactly laid back.

  Quinn’s fingers dug into her achy muscles and she knew she should resist leaning back into his strength but she couldn’t. Her eyes drifted shut, making it easier to imagine relaxing with him. Maybe horizontally. He was so easy to be with. They’d laughed and talked about everything and nothing as they’d painted.

  As long as they weren’t face to face, there were no reminders. No stress. Just that sexy voice and a personality that made her laugh more than she had in years. A personality she found appealing on so many levels.

  If she wasn’t so tired, she could maybe try out some flirting with him. Too bad her skills were so far beyond rusty she’d probably resemble the Tin Man.

  “Open your eyes, Darby.”

  The soft command in his voice had her obeying automatically. The paint in front of her surprised her but it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. Maybe even nice.

  Quinn’s hands stopped moving and she bit her lip to keep in the protest. Then he slipped one arm around her shoulders and stepped up beside her. “See. It’s good.”

  “Maybe.”

  He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. The man laughed more easily than anyone she’d ever known. She wanted more of that. Wanted to be that kind of person. She had to learn to let the past go. Move forward. Which would be a lot easier if Quinn was someone else. Anyone else.

  “It’ll be even better after the second coat. You’ll like it. I promise.”

  His voice sent shivers along her spine, her imagination soaring to places where he’d be making the same promise in a totally different situation. Making the Risk List was messing with her. She’d had sex on the brain since she’d made it.

  And since Quinn had shown up at the door of her B&B. With him sharing her space, she’d have to be a robot not to be thinking about sex. Especially with her past.

  Darby mentally slapped down the memories before they could take charge. No way was she freaking out. Quinn had been nothing but fun and charming. He wasn’t his brother and she needed to remember that.

  Quinn’s stomach growled and she immediately felt guilty. “Sorry, I didn’t realize this would take so long. I’ll go make us something to eat.”

  His hand squeezed her shoulder then he released her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not a guest, remember. Besides, it was better to push through and finish the whole coat than stop in the middle.”

  She looked up into blue eyes that popped brighter against the contrast of the wall behind him. As if he needed any help in making himself memorable. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats and she saw the interest spark in his eyes.

  Eyes so like his brother’s.

  Darby stepped away. “I’ll only be a few minutes.” She hurried back to the kitchen, only taking a real breath once the door swung closed behind her. Silly. Really silly. Working with Quinn had been easy. Fun. Pleasant.

  Until they weren’t working and she looked at him.

  He must think she was completely looney tunes. Which was a distinct possibility.

  The renovations would be much easier with Rayce. While the LaChance men were unquestionably gorgeous, she’d never felt the spark for any of them. And if she was smart, she wouldn’t feel it with Quinn. She needed to fix it. Fix herself.

  With a quick glance over her shoulder, Darby grabbed her notebook out of the drawer and flipped to her Risk List. Time to stop waffling and get started.

  After a quick skim, she decided on number five. Scary but not terrifying. Doable. With another peek at the door, she slammed the notebook back into the drawer and grabbed her phone. Before she could change her mind, she typed out the text and pressed send.

  Blood rushed through her veins as she waited. When she got lightheaded, she forced herself to breathe. Not scary. Not scary.

  Distraction.

  Food.

  Sandwiches. Everyone liked sandwiches. Darby made several different kinds and sliced them into quarters. She was plating them when her phone buzzed, sending her heart rate skittering.

  She wiped her hands on her jeans before she picked up the phone. Myla.

  Lunch sounds awesome. See you at Fortini’s at noon tomorrow.

  Darby let out a relieved breath and sat on the stool to type out her reply. She’d done it. Made a lunch date with a friend. By this time tomorrow, she’d be able to check off an item on the Risk List. Nothing as adventurous as flirting but something she hadn’t done in far too long.

  And if she checked off one item that easily, she could handle another one.

  “What’s got you grinning?”

  Darby nearly dropped her phone at the question. The man moved as stealthily as her brother. “Sawyer been giving you sneaky hints?”

  Quinn sat on another stool and grabbed one of the sandwiches. “I’ll never tell.” He swallowed another sandwich then shoved the plate toward her so she’d grab one of her own. “What’s next on that list of yours?”

  Darby’s eyes flew to the drawer where she’d left the notebook then to Quinn, who watched her with amusement. “You’re making me mighty curious, Darby. You’ve got to be hiding some juicy little secret in that book of yours.”

  “It’s nothing.” But she knew her face was flushing and her pulse was pounding. He’d think she was pathetic if he ever got a look at her list. No normal woman needed to make a list in order to buy makeup or learn how to flirt.

  At the first opportunity, she was ripping the page out of the notebook and shredding it.

>   “Right.” He drew the word out into about six syllables.

  “How bad’s the damage to your store?”

  He ate another sandwich before he answered her. “Change of subject accepted. For now. The light pole caved in the front window and smashed into the upstairs floor. The way it is, it’s not structurally sound but it shouldn’t take Rayce too long to fix it.”

  Giving her an idea of how long he’d need to stay with her at the B&B. With Quinn gone, she’d be able to focus on her list. Both of the lists. And maybe stop being such a Nervous Nelly.

  Quinn frowned as he took another sandwich and she wanted to slap herself for being so self-absorbed. She hadn’t thought about how awkward it must be for him to stay at her place. He was taking pity on her and being kind by helping out. She’d only lined up Rayce for a couple of the bigger jobs, not for simple things like painting but Quinn had pitched right in, ignoring her protests.

  He had to be worried about his own store and the unexpected disaster but she hadn’t asked him a single question. “Rayce said something about having to make a decision on a plan. What did he mean?”

  Quinn sighed and leaned his arms on the countertop. “I need more space. I’ve been thinking about changing the entire second floor into storage space.”

  “But where would you stay?”

  Another grin. “No need to sound so panicky. I wouldn’t be moving in with you permanently. I’d probably buy a house.” He shrugged. “Or, I can have Rayce fix it back the way it was. Or something different. I don’t know which way to go.”

  “Have you made a list? Lists always help me decide. Make a chart with the positives and negatives of each style. When you see it all laid out like that, the right choice might be obvious.”

  He nodded but she could tell he wasn’t convinced. There was something more bothering him about the decision. “What’s making the choice so hard? It’s not just the building, is it?”