Reaching For Risks Page 5

  Quinn’s eyes shuttered and Darby wished she could pull back the question. There was a difference between helping and prying. Apparently she didn’t know where the line was.

  “Nothing serious. Some family crap, that’s all. Nothing important.”

  Family. Was his family moving back? She hadn’t seen Philip since his family had moved away that summer. He couldn’t be coming back. She’d never be brave if he was nearby.

  Memories flooded back and she stood to get more coffee. She wouldn’t be able to handle having Philip in Bloo Moose. Facing him might be more than she could take. She could almost smell his sickly sweet peppermint breath mints, feel his strong hands pressing her down.

  Darby squealed when a hand touched her shoulder.

  “Relax, Darby, it’s only me.”

  Quinn. Not Philip. Quinn.

  But the faces overlapped in her mind and she backed away or tried to. The counter was at her back, Quinn in front of her. Panic raced through her so she shrugged off his hand and squeezed to the side. She had enough presence of mind to say, “Excuse me,” before she fled through the door and into the hallway.

  It only took her a few seconds to race to her room, slam the door and lock it behind her. She felt like an idiot but at least she was a safe idiot.

  Maybe she wasn’t ready for any risks after all.

  Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

  Quinn watched the swinging door settle long after Darby had fled through it. What the hell had spooked her this time? She’d been afraid. And all he’d wanted to do was draw her into his arms and protect her.

  Except he’d been the one she’d feared.

  It made no sense. The whole morning had been great after she’d gotten over her nerves when she’d shown him the bedroom. Those nerves hadn’t been based in fear either, he’d bet money on it. In fact, he was almost a hundred percent positive those nerves had been caused by attraction. The chemistry between them had pretty much sent sparks shooting across the room.

  There was no mistaking her natural reaction to him. Her eyes and her body had both betrayed her. When her brain was otherwise occupied, she leaned toward him, touched him, followed him with her eyes. He’d seen the pulse pounding in her throat when he’d massaged her shoulders, felt her lean back toward him.

  It was real. He wasn’t crazy.

  But, the fear was real, too.

  Sawyer had never said anything about her being hurt or molested and the SEAL would have. Well, he would have right after he’d removed the threat. Then he would have ensured everyone close to his sister was aware so they could help keep her safe. No way would he have kept something that important from Quinn.

  Unless she hadn’t told her brother.

  Would she have kept that kind of thing to herself? Had something happened and she hadn’t told anyone in town? Seemed unlikely.

  Quinn’s family had only owned the house on the bluffs for one summer and when he’d come back, Darby had been away at college. It made sense that he wouldn’t necessarily know. Except this was Bloo Moose and news traveled faster than Superman.

  If someone had hurt her, she’d kept it from everyone.

  As far as he knew, Darby was friendly with everyone in town and with her guests. Even though she was a bit shy, she liked people and they liked her right back. Guests came back year after year, talked about her, recommended her to others. She ran a damn good business.

  But she was hiding something.

  The woman was a handful of contradictions.

  A warm, sexy handful.

  The best thing would probably be to leave her alone, find somewhere else to stay and get out of her space.

  Unless she needed protection.

  Quinn’s eyes drifted over to the drawer where she’d shoved her notebook. Was her secret in there? That might explain the panic when he’d asked about it. But it wouldn’t explain her giggly reaction to his teasing.

  No. It wasn’t something she feared in there, more something she was embarrassed by. What?

  If they were in high school, he would have guessed she’d been making a list of cute boys or writing sappy poetry. Something silly and girly. Two adjectives he’d have never picked to describe Darby.

  She was friendly, practical, organized, sweet.

  Sexy.

  With haunted eyes that called to him.

  Shit.

  Tempted as he was, he wouldn’t pry into her book. Not yet, anyway.

  Figuring she needed some breathing room, he headed to his room and unpacked. When he still hadn’t heard a sound from where Darby stayed on the third floor, he grabbed a jacket and headed out to his store. Might as well check on the progress there while he waited for the paint to dry.

  And for her to figure out her next move.

  Scaffolding had been set up on the sidewalk in front of CharterGear, the light pole had been removed but the giant hole remained. Maybe it was all a sign he should cut his losses and head out of town to a new set of challenges somewhere else.

  Upstairs, Quinn found Rayce measuring the front wall. “Looks like a damn war zone in here.” And it did. Broken glass still sparkled on the floor, wood, shingles and other debris was everywhere. There was even bird shit on his bed.

  Rayce nodded at him but continued to take notes and study the wall and trusses. Quinn stomped back down the stairs, found a broom and a garbage can then returned and attacked the mess until it didn’t present a hazard.

  When he turned back to Rayce, he found his friend grinning at him. “Darby kick you out already?”

  That didn’t merit an answer so he didn’t give one. Instead, he grabbed more bags from his closet and started packing up more of his things. Even if he stayed in Bloo Moose, he’d need to move everything out so the work could get done. No sense in everything being covered in sawdust and bird shit.

  “You guys have a fight or something?”

  Quinn didn’t answer that one, either. It hadn’t been a fight. Somehow he’d scared her and she’d taken off.

  “Don’t tell me that Darby’s getting to you?”

  “No.”

  Rayce laughed. “Right. I can tell by your sunny disposition.”

  Quinn headed out of the room to grab some boxes to do more packing. When he came back, Rayce waved him over to where he’d spread plans on top of his kitchen table. “Decision time, Charters.”

  He wasn’t anywhere close to being in the right mood to make a life-changing decision but he moved to the table, anyway. Five choices. The first made the entire space storage, the second had mostly storage with a small space near the back to extend the store to the upstairs if he wanted. He hadn’t thought of doing that.

  The third option was the original floor plan with the entire space devoted to an apartment. The other options had the second floor divided into living space and storage. A small studio apartment with the bare necessities and an option that divided the space in half with a separate bedroom in the living area.

  Each option had pros and cons. Each meant making a decision on his life. Stay in Bloo Moose or go.

  Rayce pointed at the option for complete storage space. “I’m not a fan of this one. In this town, apartments over the store here on the boardwalk are very popular. Your resale value drops big time if you eliminate the apartment completely.”

  Resale value. Did he want to sell?

  Images of Darby swam through his mind. Laughing, smiling, teasing.

  No. He didn’t want to sell. Not now.

  Even with his family circling, he didn’t want to move. Because he’d deleted messages without listening and thrown out mail without opening, he didn’t have a clue what they wanted from him but he knew it wasn’t good. And they weren’t going to stop. If nothing else, his jackass of a father was a determined man. He insisted the world move according to his wishes and didn’t take no for an answer.

  Quinn’s departure had probably been a hell of a shock. His father had probably expected him to come crawling back, begging for money or to r
eturn to the house. No way in hell.

  And whatever Lionel Quinn wanted, he could go to hell, too.

  Quinn tapped on the option with the studio apartment at the front, giving about two-thirds of the space for storage. “That one.”

  Rayce slapped him on the shoulder. “Good choice. That mean you’ll be looking for a house?”

  Good question. And the answer was surprisingly simple so he nodded. “Probably. Not right away though, I’ll get this all squared away first.” But he’d like a place. Not on the bluffs like his parents but down on the lake. With a dock for his boat. Maybe he could talk Darby into some more water skiing. Find out how she looked in a bikini again.

  And just like that Quinn knew he was going to stay. Whatever this thing with his parents was, it wasn’t going to make him run away from a town he’d grown to love.

  His father and brother would be shocked by how much he enjoyed the town. Lionel Charters had only bought the summer house because a senator lived there and he’d figured befriending the man would ease him into a whole new group of influential people he could con out of their money.

  Quinn would be happy to never see them again. He had no desire to emulate the recent Charters’ history. Instead, he preferred to follow in the footsteps of the great-grandfather he’d been named after. The original Quinn had arrived in the country with nothing but his clothes, yet he’d built a solid foundation for his family through his acumen with money.

  The financial stuff wasn’t Quinn’s forte but he’d found a niche that worked. So much better than sitting around in a country club looking for quasi-legal ways to screw people. His great-grandfather would be appalled by the snobbery and self-absorption shown by Lionel.

  Building his own business had gone a long way to erasing the shame he felt from being Lionel’s son. He wanted nothing to do with the casual cruelty, the false sense of entitlement, the sleazy ways of getting money.

  Owning his own home would be another show of independence. Another way to be his own man.

  A few hours later, he’d stored the bulk of his furniture and personal items in a storage shed out at LaChance Lodge. Feeling lighter after making the decision to stay in Bloo Moose and not run from his family, he headed his truck back to the B&B.

  Now he had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with Darby.

  WHEN the final kiss of the fourth rom-com she’d watched faded to black, Darby turned it all off and flopped back on her bed.

  Marshmallow hissed, swished his tail in her face and stalked off.

  Meatball didn’t even raise an eyebrow. She scooped up the lazy cat and sat against the headboard where she’d left her notebook.

  “Not sure I learned what I wanted to learn, Meatball. This whole pulling-yourself-together thing is hard. Did you see how heart-broken they all were? How much pain they went through? I don’t want to go through that kind on nonsense.”

  But she did want the happy ending, the confidence each of the characters had by the end.

  “And I’d sure like those soul-stealing kisses. Even one would be great.”

  Quinn’s face flashed into her mind but she forced it away. She wasn’t brave enough. He was a Charters and she’d been an idiot to him again that day.

  Quinn yumminess filled her B&B. The man even smelled good. And that chuckle. She hugged the cat into her chest and whispered. “That chuckle wakes up my girlie parts and they haven’t been awake in a long time.”

  It felt good. He made her feel good. And not only her girlie parts. How long had it been since she’d laughed so regularly? A very long time.

  There was no giving up on the Risk List. Not when she’d had a small glimpse of normal.

  She’d turned to the rom coms in the hopes of learning how to find a happy ending for herself. Or at least the potential of finding a happy ending. As she was living her life now, she knew it wasn’t likely.

  “So what did we learn from the movies, Meatball?”

  He didn’t have any answers, so Darby shifted and looked over the notes she’d made. Time for another list.

  “How did they change and make their lives better?”

  None of the women got anything they wanted until they’d taken a risk of some kind so at least she was on the right track with her list. As long as she found the courage to implement more than making a lunch date with Myla.

  Darby flipped to a clean page and titled the list Rom-Com Lessons.

  Change Priorities. Each of the women had done that. Made work less important, focused on being a whole person. They’d learned to open up and trust other people. They’d all found confidence and love.

  Great goals but she needed specifics. Too bad she didn’t have Sandra Bullock’s team of FBI stylists to give her a kickstart.

  Wanting to change was a great start but she was completely lost as to how to get that done. “Why isn’t there a road map with giant neon signs pointing me in the right direction?”

  Meatball didn’t even bother to open his eyes.

  Okay, what else did all of the movies in common?

  Love at first sight was real and could be the basis for a long term relationship.

  Once again, Quinn’s face floated into her subconscious. She remembered the first moment she’d seen him hanging out with Sawyer and his buddies on the beach. They’d all been waterskiing and playing football on the sand.

  Darby had returned from skiing and she’d spotted Quinn. He’d left behind adolescent gangliness and landed right in gorgeous-grown-man territory.

  He’d been surrounded by girls but when they made eye contact it had nearly boiled her seventeen-year-old blood.

  It was still the same. The chemistry she felt whenever he was in the room or whenever she thought of him, was off the charts. Too hot for her to handle. For so many reasons.

  But she wanted to handle it. Handle him.

  When she laughed out loud at her imagination, Meatball swatted at her leg. “Sorry, buddy.”

  Thoughts back on target. What else?

  All the women had found someone full of great advice and an outside perspective on the problem. An older woman, a friend, sometimes even a stranger.

  Darby didn’t have that. No parents or grandparents and she’d let her friendships lapse.

  The person she was closest to was Swayer and there was no way she was talking to him about any of this.

  Quinn had proven he could be a friend. If only she could handle it. He was so easy to be with until she looked at him. He must think she was a complete nutcase.

  In some of the movies, the right guy had turned out to the guy who’d been right beside the woman all along. A friend.

  Quinn came to mind again and Darby sighed.

  All of the lust roaming through her was making her focus on Quinn.

  He couldn’t be part of her solution. He was inextricably linked to the source of the problem.

  Darby had let Philip’s action control so many of her decisions from that day forward. She needed to get him out of her head and live her life despite him.

  Why did he and Quinn have to be brothers?

  The big lesson from all the movies was that the women had all learned to believe in themselves.

  As she finished adding to the list, Darby wondered if that was ever going to be possible without lessons.

  She needed a guide.

  Except it was ridiculous for a grown woman to need a guide to live her own life.

  Darby put the notebook on the table and turned off the light. It appeared that the rom-com marathon had mostly shown her she needed more help than they had to offer.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have blown off the Nosy Trinity’s offers of help so easily.

  Quinn was working on packing up his store in the morning so she had some free time. She could try out one of the items on her list without anyone knowing.

  Makeup? Clothes? Flirting?

  Darby breathed slowly into the night and resisted the urge to throw up.

  DARBY stared at the ai
sle in the drug store. An entire aisle devoted to makeup. Why would they need a whole aisle?

  Too many choices. Not enough information.

  And the prices ranged from affordable to second-mortgage. Was there something wrong with the cheap stuff?

  She walked the aisle four times reading the headings and scanning the contents. Each brand had its own section just like the paint aisles.

  Like paint, there were different finishes and colors. So many colors for everything.

  Her eyelashes were black so black seemed the most obvious choice for mascara. But she got stumped at the finishes.

  Finally, she chose a brand in the lower price section and chose a random black.

  After she paid she stood on the boardwalk breathing deeply and feeling triumphant.

  She had mascara. She could do this.

  Her dreams from the previous night had blended all of the rom-com disasters in multiple messy and miserable situations in which she embarrassed her self time and again in front of sexy men.

  Sexy man actually.

  All Quinn.

  Which said all kinds of things about the way the man had invaded her B&B and her senses.

  Philip hadn’t appeared in one single dream. Quinn had been showing her nothing but kindness and respect. Even after she’d bolted from the kitchen he’d returned to help her paint that second coat.

  Conversation had been stilted and awkward. Her fault. She was struggling to get past so many things. Philip. Quinn’s attractiveness. Her embarrassment at how she kept acting toward him.

  Such a mess.

  Since the incident with Philip all those years ago, Darby had found being alone with any man who wasn’t her brother difficult.

  She knew in her heart that Quinn was a good man. He’d proven that over the years and she needed to convince her brain what her body already knew.

  The man just had to breathe to make her pulse race and her shoulders relax.

  Darby stopped in front of the clothing store and looked at the display. Pretty dresses for spring and summer. She hadn’t owned a dress in a long time. She couldn’t even picture one.