Under the Covers

Chapter Five

Juliet settled more comfortably in the kitchen chair, her gaze on the half-naked warrior cooking dinner. “I think we may have blinded your sister for life.”

Quinn chuckled and stirred the scrambled eggs. “I’d prefer not to think about it again.” The muscles in his impressive arms shifted as he reached for salt and pepper to dump on the eggs. He wore scars on his back, and it hurt she wouldn’t have time to get close enough to ask about them. But she had the night, and she was going to enjoy what she could. He’d thrown on jeans but had left his torso and feet bare. Very masculine. “If I hadn’t been nude, I probably would’ve smashed both Jake’s and Colton’s heads together for not leaving right away.” While the words emerged tough, obvious affection lived in them.

“You and your siblings seem close.” Juliet picked at a loose thread on the shirt she’d borrowed.

“We are.” Quinn removed the pan and slid eggs onto two plates. Delivering one to her, he grabbed a plate of buttered toast. “You don’t have siblings?”

“No.” Not really, anyway. She eyed the eggs. “These look fantastic.”

“Thanks.” He sat and tossed her a napkin. “Eggs are the only thing I know how to cook. Well, besides Christmas cookies.”

Juliet unfolded the napkin on her lap. “Christmas cookies?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Leila and I have a tradition of making Christmas cookies shaped like sheriff stars every year. It’s our, ah, thing.”

Talk about the sweetest thing Juliet had ever heard. “You’re a softy, Sheriff.”

“Humph.” He dug into his eggs. “Why the gallery, Juliet?”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

“The gallery? There are tons of businesses you could open, and you choose a Western art gallery in a small Montana town. Why?” Lazy intelligence glimmered in his eyes.

The need to confide in him surprised a grin out of her. “I love art. Love paintings, drawings, sculptures—even comic books. But, no matter how hard I tried, I never had talent.” She took a sip of water. “Skill, maybe. But not the talent so few have that amazes anyone who looks.”

He nodded. “So you decided to surround yourself with art.”

“Exactly.” For the first time in a month, her shoulders relaxed. “I do have a good head for business, and I have an eye for other people’s talent. That works.”

“Do you still paint?”

“No. But I do sculpt once in a while. Just for me, and just for fun.” Her pieces were more functional than inspirational, but that was okay.

The phone rang, and he stretched over his head to grab the handset off the wall. “Lodge.” He listened for a moment and then stood to flip open his cell phone sitting on the table. “Yes, Mrs. Romano. I understand. Give me a minute.” He set down the handset and punched in a number on the cell phone.

Juliet tilted her head to the side. What in the world was going on?

Quinn waited and smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Maceberry. This is Sheriff Lodge, and I could use Graham’s help. Is your son home?” Quinn glanced at Juliet and winked.

Sexy and strong, that wink shot right down to throb between her legs. The man should be captured on film.

“Graham?” Quinn straightened up. “Mrs. Romano’s cat is stuck in the tree down the street. I owe you lunch next week if you go and get the darn thing down.” Quinn nodded. “You’re the best, kid. Be careful and don’t fall.” The cell phone clicked shut. He lifted the handset to his head. “Mrs. Romano? Graham Maceberry has become my official cat catcher. He’ll be there in a few minutes to get Snookie down. Just offer the kid one of your amazing strawberry scones when he succeeds. Yes, ma’am. Have a good night.”

With a sigh, Quinn dropped back into his seat. “My job’s a dangerous one, darlin’.” The smug grin sliding across his face promised both danger and sin.

“I can see that.” She licked cheese off her fork.

His eyes flared.

She stopped licking. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me alive.” She paused as heat filled her face. “You know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” He’d leaned forward to say something that had to be sexy when the doorbell rang. He frowned. “What is up with people today?” Tossing his napkin on the table, he strode into the other room. Voices echoed, and he returned with a plate full of brownies and a casserole dish covered with tinfoil.

Juliet lifted her eyebrows.

Quinn smiled and shoved the plates into the refrigerator. “Mrs. Phillips is missing both of her sons. One is in Idaho at a convention, and the other is overseas. She always makes plenty of food, and I usually get extras when the boys are out of town.”

Juliet glanced past him to the myriad of different dishes in the refrigerator. “It looks like a lot of women feed you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shut the door and sat down.

She’d bet her last pair of shoes most of the dishes were made by single women and not grandmotherly types like Mrs. Phillips. “Well, a man has to eat something other than scrambled eggs and cheese.”

“Exactly.” His gaze wandered over the white dress shirt she’d borrowed. “You look darn nice in my shirt.” He shoved his plate to the side. “Why don’t we head back to bed?”

She swallowed, caught by the fire in his eyes. “Good idea.”

The phone rang again. With a muffled expletive, Quinn answered it. After listening, he took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, he flashed an apologetic grin. “Joan Daniels heard a noise in her backyard. She called me because she’s just down the road, and I can get there sooner than the guys on duty in town.”

Juliet studied his strong face. “You don’t seem worried.”

“She hears something every other week or so. It’s usually the wind. But, we did have a sighting of a cougar last week, so I need to check it out.” He reached for his gun on top of the refrigerator. “Can I borrow that shirt?”

“No.” Juliet slid off the chair. Forty-year-old, four times divorced, Joan Daniels wore low-cut shirts and partied in town a lot. She was the cougar Quinn should look out for. No doubt she’d called the sexy sheriff for more than a cougar sighting. “I’ll clean up while you’re gone.”

“You’re the best.” He placed a quick kiss on Juliet’s forehead. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” After running upstairs, he returned fully dressed and wearing his hat. “Lock the door behind me.” Then he was gone.

How many women did the sheriff rush out to rescue on a daily basis? Juliet shook her head. She didn’t have a claim on the man, and she’d insisted on no strings. A quick survey of the kitchen proved the sheriff made quite the mess when he cooked. But hey, he had cooked for her. She dug in and had the room cleaned in short order. The silence ticked around her.

Maneuvering up the stairs, she made the bed. Sitting down, she pressed the sheriff’s pillow to her face. Male, wild, and free. Yeah. The scent of Quinn. The sense of safety surrounded her in his bed. With a sigh, she lay down and closed her eyes for just a moment.

A strong hand shook her shoulder. “Juliet? Wake up, baby.”

She started awake.

Quinn stood over her, lines of fatigue cutting into the side of his mouth. “It’s after midnight, sweetheart. I’ll take you home before heading to the station to write up my report.”

She shook her head and sat up. “Was there something outside of Joan’s house?”

“Yes. A fully grown, hungry cougar.” Quinn rubbed his whiskered jaw. “Now we have cougars too close to residences. Those animals can be wicked.”

“Oh.” She flipped back the bedspread and stood. When had she fallen asleep?

Her dreams had been filled with some odd guy named Bob who kept telling her to go for her greatest wishes. Now her dreams ordered her around.

Quinn tugged her into his hard body and rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “Thank you for a wonderful night.”

“Right back at you, Sheriff.” The warm arms around her melted her muscles into relaxation.

He stepped back. “Get dressed, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Also, Sophie is driving up to the lodge instead of riding in the trail fund-raiser tomorrow. I’ll just have her pick you up on the way.”

“Excellent.” That way, appearances would be met. The world would think she and the sheriff were dating. Well, they were having sex, but he didn’t want her to stay the night. That was all right. She didn’t want to stay the night, now did she? “I’ll be ready in a moment.”

He nodded and headed downstairs.

Well, now. Where exactly did she leave her clothes?