Under the Covers

Chapter Thirteen

Juliet glanced at the dark storm outside and hung up the phone. The caterer would be early the next day to set up, and he’d assured her everything would go smoothly. More than anything, she needed the show to go off smoothly. Sophie deserved astounding success.

Wiggling her feet back into an awake state, Juliet surveyed the sheriff’s home office. Dark walls lent a masculine atmosphere while the tumbled stone fireplace offered coziness. She could picture him sitting at the solid oak desk, filling out the ranching ledgers. The room even smelled like him. Sexy and strong.

The doorbell rang.

She pushed back from the desk and wandered through the sprawling house to the front door. Glancing in the intricate window set in the middle, she groaned. Then she pulled open the door. “Hi, Joan.”

Joan Daniels opened her mouth and closed it quickly. She stood on the porch, casserole dish in hand. A low-cut blouse enhanced impressive breasts. Her jeans were tight enough they had to be cutting off oxygen to her feet, which were crammed into four-inch heels. “Hi, Juliet. Is Quinn home?”

“No.” Ingrained manners forced Juliet to step aside. “Would you like to come inside?”

“Sure.” Joan drifted by in a rose-scented cloud. She’d piled her blond hair high in a series of tumbling curls to compliment sultry and dark makeup. She sauntered through the hallway and into the kitchen as if she’d been there many times. “I brought dinner for Quinn as a thank-you for rescuing me from a wild cougar the other night.” She set the dish on the granite island. “He had to come out late at night.”

“I know.” Juliet slid her polite smile into place, wondering who’d save the sheriff from the cougar now in his kitchen. “I was here when the call came in.”

“Oh.” Joan maneuvered around the island to perch on a bar stool. “Well, you’re not the first woman to spend time with the sheriff. He’s a handsome man.”

Had Joan “spent time” with Quinn? Juliet took the dish and placed it in the refrigerator. Hopefully the woman would leave since Quinn wasn’t home. Her manners got the better of her. “May I offer you something to drink?”

“Absolutely. He keeps Wallace Brewery beer on the bottom shelf.” Too many teeth flashed when Joan smiled. “I’d love one.”

Sure enough, there were several bottles of Pale Ale on the bottom shelf. Juliet grabbed two and handed one to Joan. Twisting off her cap, she shoved the fridge shut with her hip. “Cheers.”

Joan removed her cap and lifted her bottle. “Cheers.” She tipped back her head and took a healthy swallow. She hummed. “It’s so thoughtful of the sheriff to keep these in stock. He likes the Irish Red, you know.”

Actually, Juliet hadn’t known that. “Really? He always drinks Scotch when we’re out.”

Joan frowned. “I wonder why he’s so formal with you. The man likes beer.” She leaned forward, elbows on the counter, false interest in her eyes. “Maybe he’s not comfortable with you.”

Juliet took another sip. “I’ll have to ask him when he gets home tonight.”

Joan’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll both ask him.”

The doorbell rang. Again.

Juliet set her beer on the counter. “Excuse me.” She hustled through the hallway to the door. Hopefully Sophie or Jake had decided to drop by and check on her. She opened the door and smiled with every bit of manners she owned. “Hello, Amy. How nice to see you.”

Amy Nelson arched an eyebrow. “Where is the sheriff?”

“Out on a call.” Juliet stepped to the side, amusement and irritation battling for control inside her. “Would you like to come in? A neighbor and I are having a drink in the kitchen.”

“For a moment.” Amy swept by Juliet and headed down the hallway. She charged into the kitchen and zeroed in on Joan. “Hi. I’m Amy Nelson.”

“Joan Daniels.” Joan glanced at Amy’s dress. “That is a stunning dress.”

Juliet reached for her beer. The dress was stunning. Sparkling red, the material shimmered and hugged Amy’s curvy figure perfectly. “I agree.”

Amy smiled. “Thank you. We had a fund-raiser for my uncle on the north side of the county, and I introduced him before his speech.”

Juliet cleared her throat. “Amy’s uncle is the governor. He’s running for reelection.”

“As is Quinn.” Amy squinted at Juliet. “I’m here to talk to him about the rest of his campaign. The man needs to get smart and start campaigning.”

“Nobody can beat Quinn. I mean, he is our sheriff.” Joan finished off her beer.

“True.” Juliet gestured toward the bottle. “Would you like another?”

“Sure,” Joan said.

Juliet turned toward Amy. “Would you like a beer?”

“No, thank you.” Amy eyed the beer bottle like it might explode. “When will Quinn return?”

The doorbell rang. Again.

“Excuse me.” Juliet carried her beer down the hallway this time. “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered. What other woman from Quinn’s not-so-distant past would be visiting now? She yanked opened the door and stopped short.

Loni Freeze and Leila Lodge stood on the porch, holding hands. Leila jumped up and down. “Hi, Juliet! Uncle Quinn said you’d be here.”

Juliet grinned. “Hi, Leila. Loni. There’s a small get-together in the kitchen. Come on in.”

“Whoo-hoo,” Leila yelped, releasing her grandmother to skip down the hall.

Loni crossed the threshold, her head tilted. “Quinn sent us to check on you. They’ve set Jacoby’s funeral for the day after tomorrow. Poor Melanie.”

Remembered sadness washed through Juliet. Being alone made the world a darker place. “But Melanie has you and your family, Loni. She’ll be all right.”

Loni slipped an arm around Juliet’s waist. “You have us, too. Don’t forget that.”

Temporarily, it felt nice to belong. “Thank you.”

They entered the kitchen as Leila dropped to one knee, her gaze on Amy’s sandals. “Are those Manolo Blahniks?”

“No.” Amy glanced down at the three-inch heels. “They’re Christian Louboutin.”

Leila gasped, her eyes widening. “They’re so pretty.” She stood and ran to her grandmother. “I love shoes.”

Loni ran a hand down Leila’s dark hair. “I know, sweetie. I do, too.” She glanced around the kitchen, a small smile playing on her face. “Well, this is nice, isn’t it?”

“Very.” Joan took a healthy swallow of her beer, her disgruntled gaze wandering again to Amy’s dress.

Juliet sipped more of her beer. The only thing missing from the party was—

The door to the garage opened, and Quinn Lodge stepped inside. He stopped, his gaze on the gathering of women. A laugh bubbled up in Juliet, but she quashed it. If a “holy shit” expression existed, Quinn was wearing it.

Leila leaped for him. He caught her easily against his chest and smacked a kiss on her forehead. “Hi, Uncle Quinn. Juliet’s having a party.”

Loni bustled forward and pecked him on the cheek. “We stopped by to keep Juliet company, and turns out she had some visitors. Isn’t this wonderful?”

He settled his hand on the butt of his gun in a natural pose. “Ah, yes. Very nice. I, ah, dropped by to grab the spotlight I left in my garage. There’s a wreck on the interstate.” He set Leila down, his gaze on Juliet. “I might be late.”

She nodded, her face heating. Maybe the blush resulted from Loni’s delighted grin. Maybe it resulted from the heat in Quinn’s gaze. Or maybe it resulted from the glares from the other two women in the room.

Quinn had already shut the door behind himself and escaped to the garage before she regained her voice.

…

Juliet awoke from a deep sleep to glance at Quinn’s bedside clock. Three in the morning. Something shuffled at the bathroom doorway, and Quinn strode into the room with that male grace she had begun to recognize.

She sat up and clicked on the lamp. “I’m awake.”

Wet hair curled around his ears, and he’d tied a towel around his masculine hips. Lines of exhaustion cut into the sides of his mouth, and dark stubble covered his chin. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“I didn’t even hear the shower.” She shoved curls out of her face. “You okay?”

“Fine.” He dropped the towel and slipped under the covers, reaching over his shoulder to turn off the lamp.

Instant heat radiated toward her. Should she go back to sleep? Perhaps give him some space?

He made up her mind for her by rolling onto his back and tugging her on top of him. Gentle hands smoothed the hair away from her face. “The wreck was a bad one, but the ambulance arrived in time. I think everyone might be all right.”

“Good.” She settled more comfortably against his hard body. Soft moonlight filtered in through the shades, and his eyes blazed through the dim. “You were gone a long time.”

“Just a couple of hours. After clearing the scene, I had two DV calls to take. I hate those.” His hand wandered down her back and cupped her butt.

Heat spiraled through her abdomen. “That means domestic violence, right?”

“Yep. Worse calls ever. I arrested several people tonight—both men and women.” He caressed her rear. “Let’s talk about something else. How long did your party last?”

A grin tickled her cheeks. “You mean the get-together of women who want Quinn Lodge? Everyone left after you made your appearance.”

He snorted. “Funny.”

“Not really.” She wiggled against his groin just enough to cause his eyes to flare. “This is an awkward question, but I feel the need to ask it. Are you, um, seeing either Joan or Amy?”

“No.” He tugged her T-shirt over her head, leaving her in flimsy panties. “I have never dated Joan but did have one unfortunate night with Amy about a year ago after a fund-raiser. We all make mistakes.”

Jealousy zinged in a weird electric arc into her heart. “She still likes you.”

“I like you.” His voice deepened to a dark tone that wandered right through her skin and warmed her. Everywhere.

“I like you, too.” She pressed a gentle kiss against his nose and then looked closer. “Is that a bruise on your chin?”

“Probably.” His hands flattened on her butt, pressing her onto his rapidly hardening cock. “One of the guys didn’t want to be cuffed. We, ah, scuffled.”

She took a deep breath, not really having considered the danger he faced every day. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“You’ll have to discover that for yourself, darlin’.” He grinned. “Why don’t you start with my mouth?”

“Why don’t I,” she murmured, brushing his lips with hers.

His mouth captured hers. Deep, strong, he commanded the kiss like he did everything else in his life. Liquid fire rippled through her. Wetness coated her thighs. Her lips trembled and parted for him. He angled his head, depending the kiss.

A click resounded inside her head. Fire and home. She was home.

At the frightening thought, she lifted her head. Her breath panted out. Tingles erupted on her lips.

“I wasn’t quite done kissing you, Juliet,” he rumbled, his dark gaze on her mouth.

“What makes you think you’re always in charge?” She slid her knees up to straddle him.

He grinned and slipped his fingers in the waistband of her panties. “If I were in charge, you wouldn’t still be wearing these.” A quick tug, and he yanked them off.

She settled back into place and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m no longer wearing those.”

“I guess I am in charge.” He flipped them over and thrust inside her with one strong push.

With the shock of his entry, she cried out, her body arching into his. Mini-explosions rocketed through her sex. Flashes of light erupted behind her closed eyes. Need cut into her with sharp, demanding blades.

She tangled her hands in his hair, rearing up to kiss him. Hard.

He returned the kiss, his movements slow and drugging. Sexy and deep, he kissed her, consuming all her fear and uncertainty. She relaxed into the safe cocoon created by Quinn Lodge, melted into him with a sense of trust she’d never shared with another person.

His body impaling hers, his mouth destroying hers, he stripped her of any lingering defenses.

Finally, he lifted his head. “You are the most perfect creature I could’ve ever imagined.”

She swallowed, her eyes widening, her heart softening. “Quinn—”

“Shh.” He kissed her again, pulling almost out and then sliding back home. “Just feel.”

So she did. She slid her hands down to his shoulders. Muscles bunched against her palms as his mouth wandered along her jawline and down her neck.

He pushed hard into her, his pelvis slanting against her clit. Heat zipped up to her breasts, pebbling her nipples. His chest brushed the sensitive buds as he increased his speed, pounding into her until the headboard banged the wall.

Her thighs clasped his, and she tilted up to take more of him. To take all of him.

He thrust harder, his fingers digging into her hip. A ball of fire slowly uncoiled inside her. Then, with a flash of lightning, it detonated into a series of explosions that arched her back. She cried out his name, her nails digging into his skin. Wave upon wave of electric pleasure pumped through her until finally, she went limp.

With a growl of her name, he ground against her and came.

After several deep breaths, he dropped his forehead to hers. The friendly intimacy slid contentment into her smile. She patted his shoulder. “Sorry about the fingernails.”

“I’ll wear your marks any day.” He withdrew, smiling at her brief whine of protest.

He rolled to the side and spooned her in safety and warmth. “I like having you here, Juliet.”

“I like being here.” She rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry you had a rough night.”

“The night just got a hell of a lot better…and drop the society tone. I’m not too tired to spank you.” Lazy amusement colored his voice, yet an edge always lived within Quinn.

She swallowed. “That’s how I speak.”

“Only when you’re uncomfortable or trying to control a situation.” He tightened his hold. “Before I forget, I was hoping you and Sophie would take Anne Rush out this weekend. Maybe to a dinner and movie or something like that. My mom agreed to babysit her kids.”

Juliet snuggled into the pillow. “Sure. I’ve met Anne quite a few times and really like her. Why are you her social organizer?”

“I think the woman needs a night out. Her husband is still overseas, and she needs a break.”

The tough, gun-toting sheriff was a softy. “I’d be happy to help.” A sudden vision of what life could be like if she stayed with Quinn filled Juliet’s mind. She’d be called upon to help with the community, to be a part of so many lives. The sharp desire to be included in such a way stunned her.

“Thanks.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, his voice slurring with exhaustion. “I’m excited for your showing tomorrow night. You’re my date, right?”

Her smile heated her cheeks. “Yes. I’m your date.”

“Excellent.”

Time to tell him everything.

Quinn began snoring in her ear. Poor guy was exhausted. Well, she’d take the reprieve and tell him all in the morning. Yes, she was a coward and was just fine with that.

She closed her eyes, but her mind kept wandering to the showing. Had she gotten everything ready? What if she’d forgotten something? And where the heck was her laptop? While she’d backed everything up, having her gallery invaded gave her the creeps. Was her past catching up with her?

Finally, she dropped into sleep.

She’d slept for a while before something startled her awake. Her heart smacked against her ribs. She gazed around the unfamiliar room.

A low growl jerked her head up. She slowly turned and scooted up in the bed.

Quinn lay on his side, sweat dotting his upper back. The bedcovers had been shoved to his waist. A tortured groan roiled from his gut.

She forgot his instructions and reached out to place a cool hand on his shoulders.

He moved faster than she could’ve imagined, rolling over, forcing her down, and pinning her with his body. One broad hand wrapped around her throat. His heart beat hard enough she could feel it through her chest.

“Quinn,” she whispered, her trembling hands caressing his chest. “Quinn? It’s me, Juliet. Wake up, baby.”

His eyes shot open. They weren’t focused. His hold tightened.

“Quinn, wake up.” She put more force into her whisper. “Wake up, now.”

Awareness filtered into his dark eyes, followed quickly by horror. He moved his hand. “Jesus, Juliet. I’m sorry.” He made to roll off her.

She shot her legs around his waist and her hands onto his shoulders. “Don’t move away.”

He closed his eyes and his body vibrated. “Let go of me.”

“No.” She caressed his chest. “I’m okay. You’re fine. You had a nightmare, and you didn’t hurt me.” She rubbed his whiskers. “Open your eyes.”

He did, and the regret in them broke her heart. So she smiled. “I’m fine. You move like an old, slow mare.”

An unwilling smile lifted his lip. “I’m neither old nor slow.”

His grin relaxed her shoulders. “Unfortunately, you were so slow, I was afraid I’d hurt you, Sheriff. We might need to get you a personal trainer.”

He snorted. “A trainer?”

“Don’t worry. I took a karate class years ago. I’ll protect us.”

He lowered himself onto his elbows. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Nope. Not at all.” She could help him through this—she really could. “I promise.”

“Did I scare you?” He lost his smile.

“No.” She kept hers in place. “Honest. I knew you’d never hurt me—and you didn’t.”

Uncertainty had him pausing. “All right.” His phone buzzed from the table. He grabbed and pressed it to his ear. “Lodge.” He sighed. “I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, he dropped a kiss on Juliet’s mouth. “Home invasion on the south side of the county. Gotta go, darlin’.” He kissed her deeper until all her bones turned to mush. “I’m looking forward to our date tonight and your amazing gallery opening.”

“Me, too.”

He sat up, his back to her. “Juliet? This, um, means a lot. That you’re here and willing to work on this. That you trust me.”

The words slammed her in the stomach. She trusted him not to hurt her, but hadn’t trusted him to still love her once he knew the truth. “I do trust you—and I, ah, have a lot to tell you.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Now?”

“No. You have to go, and I need to finish getting ready for the show. Tonight, after the show, I’d like to tell you about my crazy family and the trouble they’ve gotten me in.”

He smiled and somehow, the world brightened. “I look forward to it.”

Juliet forced an answering smile. “Me, too.”