Chapter 24 Rumor Mill
Rumor Mill
Tripp
Quinnie
Did you remember the list we made for the hardware store?
Yes. But I’m still waiting for that other list...
You know... the one with all the kinky stuff you wanna try.
If I give you the whole list all at once, you might run away screaming
Or maybe I’d run straight to the ranch to fuck you exactly how you want me to.
You’re filthy.
So are you, honey. And I love it.
Every spare moment I’ve gotten in the last week has been spent either thinking about Quinn or pulling her into every dark, quiet corner of the ranch I can find, but it’s not enough.
We still haven’t had sex. And I’m not sure why I’m holding off.
Maybe I’m waiting for the perfect moment—for it to mean something even though we both pinky swore this is casual, a way to figure out what she likes, to find herself. I might just be a willing body to her, but Quinn means something to me—whether she realizes it or not.
Pops comes home tomorrow, which means the time Quinn’s been giving me this week will go to making sure he does everything he’s supposed to for his health.
And keeping this thing between us quiet? That’s only going to get harder—because I want her every second I’m not working. I am obsessed with watching Quinn Dawson come. It’s my new favorite pastime. Touching her. Tasting her. Making her gasp my name.
I roll into town on my one and only morning off. Main Street is buzzing with activity. I should have asked Quinn to come with me. She might have liked to roam the small farmer’s market while I run to the hardware store. But maybe that’s boyfriend territory—not casual whatever-this-is territory.
I wander into the small shop, and Jim gives me a gap-toothed smile. “Tripp, my boy, need help finding anything?”
“Nah, I’ve got a list,” I say, waving the piece of paper in the air.
Quinn had insisted on helping me make a list of supplies for Winston’s new enclosure. I’ve been too busy making her come to think much about the pig. He’s getting ornerier by the day in that cramped barn stall, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts wrecking shit out of pure boredom.
Jim leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter. “I hear Vern’s coming home soon.”
I grab some screws and toss them in the basket. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
“How long’s Quinn sticking around?”
I shrug. “A while. I don’t think she’s going anywhere until Pops is back on his feet.”
He rubs the scruff of his beard. “Good girl, that Quinn. Always was. Though I heard she got herself up on the bar at Herds the other night—put on a little show for the fellas.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I scour the shelf for the next item on the list like I didn’t hear him.
“Lucky thing you were there to take care of her though, huh?” Jim adds, tone sly now.
It appears Cottonwood Creek’s rumor mill is still alive and well. It’s been a while since I’ve had any fodder for it. But if this is what Jim’s saying to my face, I can only imagine what folks are whispering behind my back.
And if Wes hasn’t heard it yet, it’s only a matter of time. Thank God he’s been busy with the ranch expansion.
I give a noncommittal grunt and toss the last item into the basket. No use adding fuel to Jim’s fire by denying anything or over-explaining. I pay up, thank him, and step back out onto Main Street.
The scent of baked goods wafts down the street from the Cowboy Corner Café, and my stomach grumbles. I could use a to-go cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Besides, Quinn’s face would light up if I brought her one of those huge chocolate chip cookies that were always her favorite.
I step into the café, and several people mutter greetings as I pass.
“What can I get for you this morning, dear?” Mrs. Mackey asks from behind the counter.
“Coffee, a chocolate hazelnut croissant, and a chocolate chip cookie to go.”
Her eagle eyes cut to me, and she gifts me a sweet smile. “Those cookies are Quinn’s favorite. You bringing her a little treat this morning?”
Christ, these people were nosy. I was starting to understand why Wes was always complaining about their inability to mind their own business.
“Oh, yeah. I guess,” I say, reaching for my wallet.
“That’s mighty sweet of you,” she says, eyeing me like she knows something I don’t.
Before I can come up with a reply, Harold claps a hand on my shoulder. “Mornin’, Tripp. Heard I’ll get my card partner back soon.”
I smile, grateful for the change in subject. “Sure will. Quinn will have him back to himself in no time.”
“Sure she will. Heard you got to play knight in shining armor for her at Herds the other night.”
Christ almighty. Was there anyone in this town who hadn’t heard about that?
I cough, lifting my coffee in farewell. “I’ve got some work to get done.”
Harold chuckles, and Mrs. Mackey waves me off with that knowing smile of hers. By the time I step back onto Main Street, the bell over the café door jingling behind me, the bag of baked goods feels heavier than it should.
Seems like everyone in town has something to say about me and Quinn, and while they’re not wrong, it makes me wish I didn’t have to hide it. I want to walk down this street with her hand in mine. I want people to see us and know she’s mine. I want to shout it from the mountaintops.
It doesn’t matter if it’s supposed to be casual. This is the one pinky swear with Quinn I’m bound to break—because I want so much more than casual with her.