Under the Covers

Chapter Two

Quinn waited for the bartender to count his change, his gaze on the woman sitting at their table. He’d settled her in her seat before returning to the bar. They had the white wine she liked, and he wanted her happy.

His brother shot him a grin. “Sorry I couldn’t ride in with you earlier—my hearing today took longer than I thought.”

“No problem.” Quinn had always been damn proud Jake was such a hotshot lawyer.

“I know.” Jake eyed the table. “You and Juliet, huh? Finally?”

“Yes.”

“How?” As usual, Jake went right for the throat.

Quinn dropped a tip in the jar. “I told her I needed a date, in fact, I needed a girlfriend until the election.” Which was the truth. Her sticking by his side would certainly ease the situation with the governor and his niece.

Jake snorted. “Juliet fell for that?”

“So she says.” Quinn couldn’t stop the wry grin. “She required a push, she’s a sweetheart who wants to help, and it seemed to work.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to date you. How many times as she turned you down, anyway?”

“Twenty or so.” Quinn lifted a shoulder. “Though she’s interested.” He frowned and accepted the change. “There’s something about her that seems off. Not dangerous, just off.”

Jake took a glass of Scotch and an orange juice from the bartender. “I’d run her.”

Yeah, Quinn had thought about a background check. He grabbed Juliet’s wine and his ginger ale. “I’d rather she told me the truth.”

“I get that.” Jake turned toward the table. “My daughter is thrilled you’re finally out with Juliet because she’s ready for a new aunt.”

Quinn almost spilled the wine. “I like Juliet and think we’ll have some fun. You need to explain things to Leila.” Leila was five years old and way too wise for her years, maybe because her mother had passed away right after she was born. But she’d found a new mama when Jake married Sophie, and now she wanted everyone married and happy.

His brother shrugged. “Sometimes marriage sneaks up on you. Trust me.” He sat next to Sophie and handed her the juice.

Quinn sat down. Nothing sneaked up on him, and he wasn’t the marrying kind. At least, he wouldn’t marry until he stopped being a threat to the people around him. While he had his emotions mostly under control, some nights he awoke from a nightmare, thinking he was in Afghanistan and looking for somebody to hurt. Until reality set back in.

Juliet reached for her Riesling and cut him a quick glance.

Next to her, Amy Nelson chattered on about the summer collection of designer shoes she’d just bought. What was it with women and shoes? She should’ve spent more money on material for a dress. The white one she wore stretched tight against her ample bust and stopped several inches too far away from her knees. Her boobs pushed out the sides and up the top, and she’d probably have bruises from the fabric cutting in. Her uncle, the governor, sat next to her, texting something on his phone. A widower, he’d apparently brought his niece as a date.

Next to him sat Miles Lansing, one of Quinn’s two opponents in the sheriff race. Lansing was a politician, not a cop, and didn’t belong with a gun in his hand. His wife, a brunette with hard eyes and a slinky black dress, sat to his left, her gaze appraising.

Quinn glanced at Juliet again. Her green dress clasped at one shoulder, leaving the other one bare and inviting for his mouth. It cinched at her tiny waist and flared down to her feet. Although the sparkles covered most of her, she was sexy as hell. An Irish sprite in his Montana world. He cock instantly sprang to attention, which was nothing new when Juliet was near. He leaned over to whisper, “You really do look stunning, Juliet.”

A sweet blush rose from her neck up over her porcelain skin.

Sophie’s head jerked, and she raised an eyebrow at Amy, the expression a woman got when she was about to defend a friend. Quinn rolled back the last few minutes of chatter in his mind. Oh. Amy had made a comment about homespun dresses and Juliet’s sparkles. That was a girl insult, right?

He opened his mouth to say something nice about the dress, only to stop when Juliet patted his hand. The innocent touch shot straight to his groin, and he snapped his jaw shut to keep from groaning.

She smiled. “Oh, Amy, you’re so sweet. I bought this at Barneys in New York last season. They have the nicest personal shoppers in the designer section. You really must give them a try—they’re masters at helping women choose the, well, the right size for their figures.” She turned toward Sophie. “How is the design for the golf course in North Carolina coming?”

Delight flashed across Sophie’s pretty face. Quinn had a feeling the delight was due to the smack-on insult Juliet had delivered so classily and not from the question about design, but who the hell knew. Women had a language he’d never fully understood, although Juliet had a couple of levels to her he hadn’t anticipated. Classy, elegant, and tough. She handled the political situation like she’d done so her whole life. But she came from a small town in Idaho, right?

“I’m almost finished with the practice greens,” Sophie said with a grin. Multitalented, Sophie designed golf courses when she wasn’t painting. Her first art show would be in a month at Juliet’s gallery, and both women seemed to be working hard.

Amy interrupted Sophie, her blue eyes flashing sparks. “When where you in New York, Juliet?”

Juliet took a sip of her wine. “Last year. Every once in a while, I like to visit the galleries in the city to see what’s new, just so our Western art is up to speed at the gallery.”

Her hand shook slightly as she set her glass down. Most people wouldn’t have noticed.

Quinn Lodge wasn’t most people. The woman lied. Why?

He glanced at his brother to see if Jake had noticed, but Jack was busy tracing Sophie’s knuckles with his fingers. Damn newlywed. “Jake, how did your hearing go today?”

Jake lifted his gaze, his expression knowing. Oh yeah, he’d noticed Juliet’s discomfort. “Fine. The hearing was a status one regarding an upcoming trial. Not nearly as interesting as a good election fight.”

“Speaking of campaigning”—Miles looked down his patrician nose—“I find it odd Bennington isn’t here tonight.”

The governor shrugged. “Perhaps he’s not as serious about running for sheriff as the two of you.” Faded eyes appraising, the governor surveyed the room.

“He’s probably busy running his ranch,” Quinn said smoothly. He liked Bennington, but the guy had a fierce temper and shouldn’t carry a gun or badge. He should stick to his ranch.

“Bennington doesn’t have much backing.” Miles leaned forward. “I’ve heard the Kooskia Tribe doesn’t support him. Frankly, the tribe only supports its own.”

Quinn smiled. “The tribe supports the best person for the job, regardless of tribal affiliations. Always has, always will.” Right now, the Kooskia Tribe backed him, and he liked to think it was because he did a damn fine job. Though he was self-aware enough to know it probably didn’t hurt that he was a tribal member and his grandfather the chief.

Miles rubbed his Rolex. “I’m sure you could always get a job with the tribal police force.”

“I’m sure I could.” Quinn met the man’s gaze evenly. “But I like collaborating with them and still policing the entire county.”

Mile’s quick smile promised fierce competition. “Interesting.”

Juliet smoothed out her napkin. “Miles, what experience do you have in law enforcement?”

Warmth flooded through Quinn. The little redhead had just defended him.

Miles cleared his throat. “I’m more of a financial leader, which we need in the county. Not every sheriff needs to swagger around and shoot people.”

Jake snorted. “You been swaggering and shooting again, Quinn?”

“I guess so. Don’t tell Mom.” Quinn slid his arm around Juliet’s chair, careful not to touch. Something in him wanted to tuck her close and hold tight.

Dinner passed quickly and included veiled insults from Amy, classy counters by Juliet, and threats from Lansing about how new blood was needed in the sheriff’s office. By the time the waiter removed their dessert plates, Quinn’s temples pounded.

Sophie nudged him. “I can’t believe you’re not drinking,” she whispered.

He could use a Scotch. Or three shots of tequila. “I’m driving Juliet home, and I’m on call tonight.” Several deputies were out with the damn flu going around town, and he needed to be alert.

“Bummer.” Sophie took a healthy gulp of her orange juice.

Sometimes Quinn wanted to drop his sister-in-law in the lake. At her impish grin, he smiled back. Nah. He adored the pixie-sized smart-ass.

An orchestra in the corner started playing softly, and he pushed away from the table, glad for the reprieve. “Juliet? Let’s stretch our legs. Please excuse us, folks.”

“I’d love to, Sheriff.” She rose from the table, all grace, all beauty, and smiled at the group at large. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The governor patted his round belly. “We’ll see you Saturday at the charity ride? It’s for the boys group outside of Missoula and is so important to our constituents.”

“We’ll be there,” Miles Lansing said, a smirk on his lips.

Quinn forced a smile. “Juliet and I wouldn’t miss it. See you then.”

They needed to get the hell away from the table. Quinn followed her as she all but glided around tables and people to a quiet area by the bar. Tall and curvy, she moved with an intriguing elegance. Her backless dress revealed a sexy spine right down to her tiny waist. Damn, he loved backless dresses. His fingers itched with the need to touch her silky skin, but he’d made a promise. Damn it.

Juliet stopped, turned, and rested against a three-foot-wide wooden pillar. “Well, dinner was interesting.”

His shoulders relaxed for the first time all evening. “Do you understand why I didn’t want to escort the governor’s niece?”

“Yes. I can’t believe you dated her.” Juliet’s eyes glowed like emeralds in the soft lighting.

“Me either.” He glanced over his shoulder to catch their table watching him. He focused back at the stunning woman within his reach. “They’re watching us. How about a kiss to convince them we’re truly together?”

“We’re not.” Pink wandered across her high cheekbones. She’d worn her dark red hair up in a sophisticated twist he wanted to tangle. “There’s nothing between us, Sheriff. You need to know that.”

He loved a good challenge, so he stepped close enough to smell citrus and woman. “I disagree. There’s a lot between us, Juliet. Now how about my kiss?”

…

Juliet had sipped just enough wine, dealt with just enough snide comments from Amy, and fought off enough attraction to the sheriff to pick up the challenge. All night she’d been aware of the heat pouring off the man and of every contained move he made. “You think you can kiss me without touching me?”

“I didn’t promise not to touch you. I promised to keep my hands off you.” Dare, with more than a hint of male, glittered in his eyes. “One kiss to convince people around us that we’re together…and to convince me that you’re not interested in me.”

She pressed her palms and her back against the smooth wood. For so long, she’d been afraid to date. Most men turned tail and ran when they got to know her. Quinn would never get the chance to run because she’d run first. So why not accept the sexy promise in his challenge? Freedom flushed through her. “All right. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sheriff.”

His eyes darkened to a dangerous hue. Slowly, keeping her gaze, he put both hands on the pillar on either side of her head, effectively caging her.

The breath caught in her throat. Desire hummed awake in her abdomen. The world silenced around her, narrowing to the man suddenly in her space.

He leaned forward until his lips hovered over hers. “Close your eyes.” The words brushed against her skin in a soft but unmistakable order.

Her eyelids fluttered closed. For seconds, nothing happened. Then a firm glide of warm lips brushed hers, and she opened her mouth with a sigh. He slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss, all male, all in control. Her head was trapped, her body secured, and his mouth gave no mercy. Gentleness slid into possessiveness. He kissed her hard enough she could do nothing but take all he was giving.

Electricity zipped from her lips to her breasts, zinging around until sparking between her legs.

Her nails dug into the wood in an effort to remain still.

His tongue brushed hers, rubbing on the roof of her mouth. With a soft groan, she slid her hands over his broad chest to clutch his hair. Her nipples pebbled harder than diamonds when she pressed her body against his. Her clit jumped to life, pounding with a need so great it actually hurt.

He went deeper, making her head spin.

She forgot where she was. For the first time in months, she forgot who she was. As he kissed her, she could do nothing but feel.

For eons, she remained lost in the whirlwind created by Quinn Lodge.

Slowly, he softened the kiss. Finally, he released her mouth.

She gaped at him, her hands in his thick hair, her body pressed against his. Oh, oh. She blinked several times and released him to lean back against the pillar. His hands were still flattened against the wall. He’d kept his promise and hadn’t touched her. Of course, she’d all but tackled him to the ground to ride like a prized pony.

Expecting triumph on his face, she stilled at the genuine pleasure lighting his eyes.

His cheek creased. “Juliet, I do believe you’re one of a kind.”

Kindness from the sexy man would be her undoing. She’d tell him to go away…if her voice worked. There was no way her voice worked. God. What was she going to do?

His dark gaze dropped to her throbbing lips. “Why did you lie during dinner?”

Alarm flared through her mind with the clanging of bells. “I didn’t lie.”

His gaze rose to pin her as effectively as his lips had a moment ago. “Yes, you did lie. While I couldn’t care less why or when you went to New York, I do care that you lied to me.”

Then he shouldn’t have asked her to be his date. She’d been lying to him since day one, which is why they had to stay apart from each other. The sheriff was too damn observant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I really don’t appreciate being questioned like this.”

“My apologies.” His jaw firmed. “Are you in trouble? I mean, do you need help?”

Yes, she was in trouble, mainly from the sexy sheriff. “No.”

He sighed. “This isn’t one of those situations where you’re running from debts, the law, or an abusive ex-husband, is it?”

Close, but not quite. “I give you my word I’m not running from debts, the law, or an abusive ex-husband.” It was the truth, and by the way his body relaxed, he believed her.

“Okay.” His hands dropped away from the pillar. “Can I touch you yet?”

She smiled, her body roaring with need. If she gave in to it, he’d burn her up. But it might just be worth it. “I’m not interested.”

His upper lip quirked. “Darlin’, I could have you coming around my cock in three seconds, and you know it.”

The rough tone and crass words almost sent her into an orgasm right there. Never in her life had she been talked to in such a manner—who knew she’d enjoy it? Or maybe she just liked Quinn. “You’re terribly confident, aren’t you?”

“Want me to prove it to you?”

Yes. Definitely yes. She lifted her chin and glanced around the ballroom. “Where? A nice linen closet somewhere?” Her sniff held just the right amount of derision to darken his eyes.

He leaned in, his heated mouth on her neck. “When I take you for the first time, and believe me, it’s going to happen, I want a bed and all night. You’re going to scream my name, and you’re going to beg, pretty Juliet.”

It was a good thing she hadn’t worn panties. Why bother? But as his confident tone wrapped around them, so did reality. She was leaving, and for the first time, she wondered if she had the power to hurt him. Hurting Quinn was the last thing she wanted to do. “You made a promise—no touching,” she whispered.

He levered back, gaze narrowing on her. Whatever he saw made him lean back more. “You’re all stubborn Irish, aren’t you?”

“Close enough.”

He nodded. “Okay. You get your reprieve for now. Let’s go have a drink next door with Jake and Soph, and then I’ll take you home. Tomorrow I work, but on Saturday, I accepted an invitation for us to ride in the Boys Club trail-ride.”

Panic heated her. “Ride? Ride what?”

His eyebrow rose. “Horses. Of course. Why?”

She swallowed. “I, ah, I don’t ride.”

He blinked. Twice. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t ride horses. Ever.” How hard was that to understand?

“That’s impossible. You’re from Idaho, right?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Ah, yes,” she lied, keeping her gaze open and on his.

“But you don’t ride.”

“No. Never have.”

He slowly nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Okay. I get off work at four tomorrow. Meet me at my house, and we’ll go for a quick lesson.”

“No way.”

“You live in Montana, sweetheart. Sometimes nature makes it difficult to get around, and you need to know how to ride a horse.”

By the set of his stubborn jaw, he would not back down. The last thing she wanted to do was pique his curiosity. If he ran a background check on her, she was in for a world of trouble. “Okay. Fine.”

Her on a horse. Quinn Lodge being curious. Things were going south…and fast.