I turned the corner, and she was waiting outside the supply store. Dressed in her apple-green coat, wool hat pulled tight over her ears, she stomped her feet for warmth and caught sight of me.
The joyous smile that curved her lips stilled my damn heart. And just like that, I wasn't mad anymore. Her lips were cold and her cheeks rosy red as she lifted her head up for a kiss. "Baby why didn't you wait inside?" I asked.
"I like to watch you walk."
I shook my head, laughing, and pushed her inside the store. "You know just how to butter me up. Add a deep-dish pizza for lunch, and I'll do anything you want."
She bit her lip, eyes full of apology. "James, I'm so sorry. I only have fifteen minutes before I need to get back."
And then I was mad again. "Are you kidding me? I haven't seen you since Monday. You don't even have time to eat?"
"Brian brought in a special consultant for a presentation. We're grabbing lunch while we work."
Brian. Again. Seemed his name was brought up a lot lately, and though I hated being a fucking whiner, I suddenly felt like an annoying demand in her busy schedule. I reached for patience and tried to control myself. "How about tonight, then?"
"I have a paper, but I'll be done early. Come over after you're done at the studio."
I let out a sigh. I wanted to see her, but her schoolwork was vital. "No. If you need to do your paper, that's more important."
She blinked and reached up, grabbing my face and kissing me hard. "I love you, James Hunt," she whispered. "Come over. I swear my paper is practically done, and you'll give me a great incentive."
Her clean scent teased my senses, and suddenly I was hard and ready to go. I gritted my teeth and tried to get myself under control. Finally, I'd have her naked, laid out in my bed, ready to give herself up to every bad, dirty, lewd thing I wanted to do to her body. "Oh, I'll give you an incentive, all right." I bit her plump lower lip in warning, and she gave a tiny squeal. "You're gonna beg me to get off. Maybe I'll give it to you, maybe I won't."
Her pupils dilated, her breath came out choppy, and I knew she was wet and aching for me. I was about to say to hell with it, back her into the corner, and push my fingers into her pussy.
"Can I help you with something?" a voice interrupted. A guy wearing a store uniform looked at us with pure disapproval.
Quinn blushed and jumped away. "No, thank you."
"Actually, I need some supplies. I have a list here." I took it out of my pocket and handed it to the guy.
He looked happy he'd get a sale rather than a peep show. "I'll get this right away, sir." He disappeared down the deep aisles, and I laughed at Quinn's face.
She hit me in the shoulder. "You're so bad. Do they have any of those artistic greeting cards here?"
"In the back."
"I'll be right back. It's Jessica's birthday, and I forgot to pick one up."
"Meet me over here. I have to look at some different brushes." She nodded, and I watched her gorgeous rear swing back and forth before she disappeared. Grinning, I headed over to the brushes, and began picking them up and discarding different ones.
"You want to make sure they're extra stiff."
The husky voice rolled close to my ear. I jerked, turning around, and came face-to-face with Ava. She was dressed in her usual black ensemble. Her hair fell loose today, a dramatic red that matched her painted lips. Those green eyes were filled with amusement and a touch of something else. Hunger? No.
I kept my tone formal. "Hello, Ms. Goodridge."
Her brow rose. "We're not in class, James. Ava will be fine."
I didn't answer. Shifting my feet, I tried casually to bring some distance between us since she seemed super close, her head bent toward mine as if we were holding an intimate conversation. Her lips curved in a half-smile. "Stocking up?"
"Yeah. My brushes are kind of shot."
She reached past me. Her arm grazed my chest, and she clasped her fingers around the brush I held. The breath got stuck in my lungs at the deliberate touch. "As I said, the stiffer the brush, the more it holds its shape and gets the job done. Of course, I can work with any brush. It's just a matter of coaxing the right pleasure from it."
Holy. Shit. Was I freaking out, or was she actually giving me a sexual innuendo? I kept silent, afraid to open my mouth, and her low laugh rumbled in my ear. Very slowly, she guided her hand back and rubbed my shoulder. "I've never known you to be so quiet, James. Cat got your tongue?"
I hated her manipulations. She hated my guts, and now she wanted to play head games? WTF? "I've never known you to be so...nice."
"I can be very nice. Maybe we should discuss it sometime."
"Okay, I'm done. Isn't this card pretty-- Oh, I'm sorry." Quinn's voice interrupted the psycho conversation, and I immediately jumped to the right so Ava's hand was off me. Quinn looked back and forth between us with curiosity. "Hi, I'm Quinn."
"My girlfriend," I added quickly.
Ava reached over and shook her hand. "Ava Goodrich. James's art teacher at the Brush Institute."
Uh-oh. Quinn's eyes widened, and suddenly she looked like a wet cat, all pissy and ready to spit. Her voice cooled. "Yes, James has mentioned you."
Ava looked almost delighted. "I'm sure he has. James is an excellent artist. Sometimes it's hard as a teacher to push my students in the proper direction, but I think he has raw talent that's quite extraordinary."
Quinn's mouth dropped open. So did mine. "That's what I'm constantly telling him," Quinn said, her voice warming.
"It's a difficult business. But I'm sure he has the passion needed to succeed."
Quinn looked delighted at Ava's compliments. I stared at my teacher hard, knowing there was something else going on. Ava beamed out a bright, fake smile. "It was lovely to meet you, Quinn. James, I will see you in class."
She turned on her high black boot and left the store. Quinn gave a squeal and hugged me. "She said you have raw talent! Maybe that's why she's being so hard on you! She wants to push you because you're the best."
I wanted to tell her about the way she touched me and the things she said, but Quinn looked so happy and proud, I shut my mouth. Maybe tonight, I'd give her the full story, and we could talk. Quinn chattered nonstop as we paid for our stuff. "So, I'll come over tonight, right?" I asked. "We'll have a quiet night."
"I can't wait," she whispered, pressing a hard kiss to my lips. "Gotta go."
I watched her until she vanished around the corner. I don't know why I had a funny feeling in my gut that something bad was gonna happen. But I brushed it off, figuring we'd talk and reconnect later tonight.
If only I'd listened to my initial instincts.
Chapter Nine
QUINN
I GATHERED UP MY NOTEBOOK, exhausted but buzzing from the amazing session. I'd learned more about getting patients to open up and using guided meditation techniques to ease them through the process. The research numbers were impressive, and Brian was really focused on retaining this extra program at New Beginnings.
Rolling my neck around to ease my sore muscles, I thought of a long, relaxing evening with James and grabbed my jacket. Maybe I'd get him to give me a massage. First food. Maybe sex, then food, then massage. At this point, I just needed to get myself home quick.
I popped my head into Brian's office. He was always the last one to leave and the first one here in the morning. I admired his dedication and the way he stood side-by-side with his staff. "Night," I called out.
"Quinn? Got a sec?"
I stood in the doorway. "Sure. What's up?"
He rubbed his forehead. His ginger hair was all messy, and his face looked tired. "Any of the rest of the crew here?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm the last one. Did you need something?"
"I know you've been working nonstop, but I've got a new intake coming in. I could use a hand, and it would be great training. But if you're tired or have schoolwork, I understand."
I bit my lip. Damn. I was torn. I craved seeing Jam
es, and I had the paper to finish. Of course, the paper should only take an hour. "Do you know how long it will take?"
"About an hour, start to finish. I'll order some food in." He studied my expression for a moment, then waved his hand in the air. "No, forget it, Quinn. You're pushing too much. Go home. Take a night off."
I wanted this full-time job bad. If I demonstrated willingness to take on extra work and be a team player, I would have a step up on the competition. I took off my jacket and smiled. "I'm staying. I can work on my paper when I get home. It only needs editing."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He smiled back at me, relieved. "Thanks, Quinn, I appreciate it. You like Chinese?"
"Sounds great. Let me just send out a quick text, and I'll be ready."
I grabbed my phone and walked into the hallway. I knew James wanted to spend some quality time, but I could still get home at a decent hour. I quickly texted him I needed to skip dinner, but to wait for me at home. I told him I'd be there by eight.
Praying he wouldn't be too pissed, I slid my phone back into my pocket and headed inside. "He mad?" Brian asked.
I laughed. "Nope, he understands."
"Good." Brian grabbed a stack of forms. "Pull a chair up, and let's start."
We went over the intake forms, making some changes due to the new programs Brian wanted to implement, then met with the patient. His name was Sam, and he was in his sixties. Gray hair, rough beard, bloated cheeks, beer belly. He gave off the desperate, angry vibe I'd seen from long-term alcoholics who didn't think they'd ever stop, but were tired of living in the gutter. I watched the way Brian dealt with Sam, balancing the fine line of support with tough love. We spent a long time with him, and I realized it was one of the best intakes I'd ever been involved in. Even in just that hour, I learned a lot.
When Sam was settled, we got back to his office, and the Chinese food was laid out in cartons. My stomach rumbled loudly. Brian laughed. "I know. As long as you don't care, I say let's ditch the plates and dig right in."
I collapsed into the chair, grabbed a box of lo mein, and dug out a plastic fork from the paper bag. "Done." He passed over a Diet Coke can, and we ate in happy silence, slurping noodles and savoring the salty spiciness of garlic sauce.
"You're amazing with the patients," I said in between bites. "It's like you know what they need right at the perfect time."
He took a sip of his soda. "Lots of practice. Studying. It doesn't come overnight, but I have to tell you, Quinn, you have a knack. People respond to you."
I shrugged. "I was always the one my friends came to," I explained. "They'd tell me their secrets. I think they knew I could be trusted."
He shook his head. Those light brown eyes turned serious. "It's more than that. You actually care. There's this vibe inside of you that makes people want to be close to you. Makes you feel safe."
Startled, I looked up. Our eyes met and locked. A current of awareness surged between us, but then it disappeared, and I tried to pretend it never happened. "Oh, my God, what time is it?"
He glanced at his watch. "Ten."
"I gotta go." I wiped my mouth with a napkin and began gathering up the cartons to help clean up. "Thanks for dinner. I have to get home."
"I'll drive you."
"No, it's a short walk."
I clumsily tipped over the rice, and he grabbed my hand. "Quinn, you're not walking. I'll drive you home right now."
I held my breath, withdrew my hand, and nodded. "Okay. Thanks."
He dumped everything in the trash, grabbed his coat and keys, and headed out. The air was an arctic blast that numbed my skin, and I was glad for the ride. I shivered in my coat, and he clicked on the button to heat my seat. "Why did you move from Florida again?" I muttered, tucking my head down for warmth.
He laughed. "Too much sun makes you underappreciate a good day."
"Try me."
"Seriously, I missed the seasons. There's something about embracing the changes in the weather, like changes in life. When summer hits, I'll be able to savor every last drop of sunshine."
I smiled. "I like the way you think. You're a very positive person."
"So are you, Quinn Harmon."
The silence thickened. I swallowed, keeping my head down, and gave him the brief directions toward my apartment. Finally, he pulled up to the curb. "Thank you so much for the ride."
"Thanks for staying."
I slid off the seat, ready to jump out of the car, but he cut the engine and walked around to open my door. "Be careful. There's ice." Before I could say anything, he gripped my arm in a firm hold, tucking me into his body.
We reached the door, and I stepped quickly away. "Thanks again."
Very gently, he touched my cheek. "Any time."
Uncomfortable with the intimate look and his touch, I stepped back and fell into James's arms.
Oh, he was pissed.
A mixture of chilly displeasure and hot temper swirled in those blue eyes. "Hello, Brian," he clipped out. "I see we meet again."
Brian frowned. "I'm sorry I kept Quinn late at work."
James stared at him, his face tight. I knew he wanted to blast him, but knowing Brian was my boss, James managed to hold back. "Next time, let me know if she needs a ride. I can take care of her."
Tension swirled in the air. The challenge was delivered. Brian stepped back as if accepting defeat. "Of course. Good night."
James shut the door and dragged me inside. "What the hell is going on, Quinn?"
"I'm sorry! I know I texted you saying eight, but I had a patient intake, and it ran late, and then Brian ordered Chinese food, and we were talking, and I forgot about the time." My explanation sounded lame to my ears, but it was the truth. I took off my coat, turned, and saw the room.
Oh. My. God.
He'd set up a card table with a pretty floral tablecloth. Candles were lit, and the air was scented with apple spice. Two plates lay out with small portions of steak, baked potatoes, and green beans. A bottle of wine was uncorked in the center of the table. A white envelope lay on my chair. Stunned, I walked over to the beautiful table, my heart beating wildly. He'd set up the perfect dinner for me, and I'd ruined it. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling like crap.
"James, I'm so sorry," I said again. "I didn't know you were going to do this."
"You're never late," he said. "When you say eight, you always mean eight. Why do you and Brian seem cozied up? What's really going on?"
"Nothing! He's just being nice to me, and it's all about work." A tiny sliver of guilt pierced through me, but I didn't want to say anything about a touch when it probably meant nothing. It would only make matters worse, and I couldn't have James upsetting my chance for the full-time job.
"You could've called me to pick you up."
"It was just faster! I swear, I didn't want this to happen. I was looking forward to seeing you tonight."
His face hardened. "But not enough, right?"
I went over to him and reached out, but he jerked back. Oh, boy, this was bad. I had to get him to understand. "James, I want this job. I thought you supported this."
"For God's sake, I've been supporting you endlessly! I want you to have it all, but lately, I feel like a fucking pity case, like I'm at the bottom of your list. We haven't talked or had a date or even fucked in a while. So, I'm asking again, what the hell is going on?"
My temper snapped. I was tired, stressed, and didn't need a jealous boyfriend making me feel guilty. "You're not a pity case. You're the man I love! Is it so hard to just be patient for a while? Everything is happening at once, and I just need some damn space!"
Silence fell between us. I bit my lip. That hadn't come out right. "I didn't mean--"
"Fuck this. You want space? I'll give you as much as you need. Let me know when you're available." He grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door.
"Don't leave! James, please. Aren't you staying over tonight?"
He shook his head and gave me a h
ard look. "You have a paper to write, remember? Call me when I'm not in the way."
The door slammed.
I fisted my hands. Tears burned my lids. What was happening to us? Why did I say such things when all I wanted was to be held in his arms? I went over to the table and opened up the envelope. The card was simple, a sketched-out caricature of a couple holding hands, sitting on a wall, watching a sunset. I opened it up and found the simple scrawl.
It's always been you, and always will be. Love, James.
I gripped the card tight between my fingers and vowed I'd fix everything.
Chapter Ten
JAMES
I TRIED TO GET MY HEAD together when I walked into class. The whole scene with Quinn bothered me, and I hadn't slept at all last night. Finally, that morning, she'd called me. The moment I heard her voice, I forgave her. I knew we were both handling a lot, but seeing her come home, and that dickhead touching her cheek like he owned her, well, I just lost it. We both apologized and said we'd talk tomorrow night. I just had to work harder at finding more time to be with her. Especially in bed. Giving her multiple orgasms.
Ava was already speaking with one of the other students, so I set up my station. I loved the progress on my newest portrait, and felt solid she would, too. I'd followed the rules and incorporated all the techniques, but added another layer of whimsy I thought made it unique. The new sketch showed a woman after an orgasm, staring at her lover. I had worked hard on capturing that subtle gleam of polished skin after fucking; the softened, slightly bruised lips, the touch of wonderment and satisfaction in her eyes. I'd studied Quinn's face time and time again and would never get bored trying to capture the essence of her sexuality. It haunted me, pushing me to get it on paper.
Heels clicked and stopped behind me. The earthy scent of musk that reminded me of sex drifted to my nostrils. I felt Ava's scorching gaze take in my portrait, and my gut clenched. Ever since our conversation at the art store, I thought maybe she'd change her attitude toward me. Instead, she spent our last session treating me like shit, as if she'd never admitted I had raw talent.