Chapter 19
NINETEEN
AUGUST
My first thought is that the flash of red is a reflection off a car windshield. My next guess is that I’m hallucinating because it’s been over a week since Quinn sauntered into my shop and eviscerated all other sexual encounters for me.
The thought has my eyes trailing over to the table where she was sprawled out, naked. A group of teenagers lounges there now, none the wiser.
I don’t feel bad, especially because I made sure to scrub the area down. I’m not a monster.
Still, despite every trace of our encounter being washed away, there’s no soap in the world strong enough to bleach out the memories of Quinn.
Quinn raking her nails along my chest. Quinn crying out my name, begging for more of my icy touch.
Quinn with little flames dancing over her bare skin, each one flaring to life because of the lust I inspired in her.
Barely stifling a groan, I glance back out the front window.
And I lose my breath.
She’s here.
Out in the middle of the parking lot, Quinn stands still, facing my shop.
At this distance, I can’t make out her facial features, but it doesn’t matter.
I will her to start moving again. All I want is to hear the chime of the bell at the front door, telling me she’s stepped inside. That she’s not avoiding me anymore.
Instead, the Pyro turns her back and walks in the other direction.
“Hell no,” I mutter. Then louder, I tell Marisol, “Watch the register.”
I still have on my apron as I shove open the glass door, charging out into the noonday sun.
As if sensing my approach, Quinn glances over her shoulder. With her sunglasses on, I can’t see the expression in her eyes, but her pillowy lips part.
Will she wait for me to catch up?
No.
Quinn doubles her speed, which, admittedly, is not very fast. The gait she uses is some strange shuffle step. It’s like she wants to be caught. I’m more than happy to oblige.
“Quinn Byrne!” My voice comes out low and growly, and her shoulders go up to her ears. “You’d better pause that cute ass right where it is!”
That earns me a gasp and a glare, of which I get the full effect because she decides to swipe off her sunglasses in the process of shooting it at me.
All I care about is that she stopped.
I meant what I said to Sammy. I would never show up at Quinn’s house uninvited.
But she’s in my territory now. Came here of her own free will. And I’m not about to let her scurry away without saying my piece.
“This cute ass is my ass, and I’ll do whatever the hell I want with it! And maybe I don’t appreciate you shouting about it in a strip mall parking lot!”
Quinn stomps her foot to emphasize her point, and the movement draws my eyes downward.
“What are you wearing on your feet?” I can’t help asking. Even though I need to have a serious conversation with her, I still want to know every little odd thing about the Pyro.
“I … what?”
Clearly, my question threw her off-balance. Good. I think I need to keep her at least a little unsteady if I want to get any answers.
“You can’t tell me those are real shoes.” All that’s between her and the scorching hot blacktop is a thin strip of foam on each sole. I’d be worried about the material disintegrating and her feet catching fire if that wasn’t a normal thing for her.
“They’re disposable flip-flops.” Quinn uses a tone that automatically adds the word duh on the end of her statement.
“You wear disposable shoes?” Is this some weird Arizona thing I don’t know about?
“Not usually. They’re for pedicures. Why are we talking about this? I’m leaving.” She scowls at me, daring me to stop her.
She’s here for a pedicure? My determination wavers. But then logic steps in, acting as the savior in a way it usually doesn’t.
“How many nail places are there in Phoenix?”
Quinn only blinks at me, her russet lashes sweeping against soft cheeks I want to cup my hands around. From her blush, I can guess her skin would be warmer than usual.
“It … it doesn’t matter! I like that one.”
She shuffles a step closer to her Jeep. My movements only mirror hers, but with my longer legs, I get a good deal closer.
“Really? You like the one right next to my shop? That’s the only reason you’re here?”
“Obviously. See?” She waves a hand at her feet. “Painted toes.”
Quinn isn’t lying. There does seem to be a new color on her nails. It’s a light, almost-crystal blue, and the sun reflects on it in a delicate coat of sparkles. The combination reminds me of ice while the pinpoints of shine bring to mind the hundreds of freckles scattered over Quinn’s face.
“I want to suck on your toes,” I mutter without thinking.
I’ve never had a foot fetish, but every inch of Quinn tempts me.
All of a sudden, she’s lunging forward.
Eager for her, I spread my arms wide.
But Quinn doesn’t climb me like at the pool party or wrap her arms around my neck to pull me in for a scorching kiss. Instead, she makes a desperate grab for the bottom of my apron, crushing the material between her fists.
“You can’t say things like that!” Her voice comes out breathless but also angry.
I realize why when she loosens her grip. The edge of my apron is charred, as if the cloth caught fire.
Hope and ice spread through my chest.
My words turned her on so much that she set my clothes on fire?
She’s not over me. I’m not a one-and-done. Whatever is wrong between us, it’s not a lack of attraction.
“You still want me.”
Quinn’s head jerks upward, shock slackening her face before she smooths it away.
“What I want and what I can have are two different things.”
She reaches for the car door handle, and I don’t stop her. I never want Quinn to think I’d use my size to manhandle her.
But I don’t back down. As she settles in the driver’s seat, I continue to push my point.
“Not when it comes to me. You want me? I’m yours.”
I’m hit with another glare, and we face off for a minute. Then, all of a sudden, her face crumples, and her forehead hits the steering wheel.
Taking this as a crack in her armor, I push more. “I don’t usually do this.”
“What? Chase women around parking lots?” she mumbles.
The snort that escapes is involuntary, and I keep talking to gloss over it. “No. I don’t do that. Not very often anyway.”
Fiery eyes meet mine, and I lean on the windowsill, trying to soak in every stinging caress.
“What I meant was, I haven’t ever tried a relationship. But I want to. With you.”
“I. Melted. Everything.” The words grind past her teeth, sounding angry, even as hopelessness glimmers in her gaze.
“And until you convince me you did it on purpose, I’m not holding it against you.” My hand reaches into the cab of the Jeep, and my skin tightens from her heat.
That can’t be good for the upholstery.
I catch a lock of her crimson hair between my thumb and forefinger, fascinated by the silky texture. Then I let the strand fall away and retract my arm.
“I’m a mess,” she whispers with a harsh tone that morphs the words into a plea.
“You’re passionate.” With a sigh, I find myself lowering my chin to my crossed arms, wanting to use every bit of my energy to memorize the shape of Quinn’s face, the fall of her hair, the spicy scent of her soap.
Just in case I can’t convince her to give me a chance.
“Put our powers to the side. If we were humans, would you want to date me?”
A scoff bursts from her chest. “Don’t be obtuse, August.” Before I can take her response the wrong way, Quinn keeps going.
“I lost the ability to form coherent words the first time we met. And do I have to remind you that on our first date, we each thought the other was a human? So, yes, obviously, I want to date you.”
“Then date me.”
“Stop making it sound so easy!”
“It is, and it isn’t.”
Her fingers curve into claws, and she reaches over, miming strangling me. “I don’t care if you’re a sexy Viking man with a heart of gold. I will murder you if you don’t start making sense.”
I lean closer, letting Quinn’s hands have full access to my neck if she wants it.
“The choice is easy. The relationship will take some work.”
Her scowl softens, so I keep up my argument.
“All of this is new. We’re both volatile. But that doesn’t mean we give up without trying.”
The annoyance seems to relax out of her muscles, and instead of choking me, she lets her hands fall to my collarbone.
The touch is everything I’ve been craving this past week. Warm. Intimate. Her.
“I want to get better. I hate how I can’t control my powers,” she admits.
“Let me help you.”
“What if it takes a long time? Years?”
The thought of Quinn and me being together for a long stretch of time doesn’t bring on any worry or fear of commitment. And the idea of waiting doesn’t have me fighting impatience. I want her to be happy, and if her haywire powers means I become a permanent fixture in her life, I’ll take it.
At least, I’ll take the excuse until I can convince her to fall in love with me for me. I’m determined to do that, I decide in the moment. Because I can feel myself careening down that path and I don’t want to go alone.
“Then the sooner we get started, the better.”
She watches her fingers as they fiddle with my collar, and I enjoy the intimacy of the casual act.
“We can’t have sex in your shop again.”
“If we went too fast and you want to wait, I’ll respect your decision.” I won’t say I’m overjoyed about not getting to explore her naked body anytime soon, but I want whatever makes her comfortable.
“Not having sex in your shop doesn’t mean not having sex.” The tips of her fingers continue to tease my skin. “But we need to be smart about it until I’ve gained some control.”
“And what does smart sex look like?” My voice is surprisingly raspy. Probably because my body has so many emotions fighting inside it. Excitement, lust, need, annoyance that I have to go back to work, and an ever-growing wave of contentment.
“Well, the more water there is around me, the better. So, I guess smart sex looks like shower sex.”
Shower sex. Quinn wet. Her back pressed against tiles. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Taking her as I hold her in my arms.
The fantasy almost has my knees buckling.
“Yes.”
My immediate affirmative response earns me a naughty smile. She leans in quickly to give my bottom lip a small bite but pulls back before I can capture her mouth.
“Okay. If you can promise to be patient with me and only have smart sex, then …” She trails off, the tail end of her words leading me forward.
“Then …” I prompt.
Quinn cups my jaw, her nose wrinkling adorably as she scratches her nails in my beard. “August Nord, you just negotiated yourself a girlfriend.”
Pure joy spears through my chest, and I know I’ve got on the biggest, goofiest grin. “Then kiss me.”
Quinn leans forward, but stops just before her mouth touches mine, and her grip on my face keeps me from crossing the final inch. “Only smart kisses.”
“I’ll keep you cool,” I promise.
She relents, and finally, I have her back.
Her kiss is chaste, nothing I’d expect from the woman who walked into my shop and burned away her dress to tempt me.
I still revel in the innocent touch, feeling my ice prickle over my skin in response.
As I press kisses along her sealed lips, I encourage the chill to pass to her.
The action goes against my every instinct. All my life, I’ve been trying to keep the frost from affecting anyone around me.
But this is what Quinn needs. Me.
Then her hands firmly press me back as her eyes blink away a fog of passion.
“You should get back to work,” Quinn tells me, and I watch in fascination as her breath puffs out in a small vapor cloud, as if we’re standing outside on a cold winter day.
“I don’t want to,” I mutter but step away from her Jeep nonetheless.
That earns me a saucy smile. She slips her sunglasses back on, and I mourn the loss of her gaze.
“One of us has to be responsible. Today, I guess it’s me.” There’s the sound of her slipping her key into the ignition and the engine starting. Her hair floats around her, tangling in the breeze from her air vents. Quinn fiddles with a dial, and the swoosh of AC disappears.
“You busy tonight?”
All I want is to shut my shop down and climb in the passenger seat. But Quinn is not the only one giving in to responsibility. Still, I need firm plans, a clear time for when I’ll see her next. I can’t handle any more of this avoiding shit.
“What do you have in mind?” Her shaded eyes turn toward me.
“Looking to take my girlfriend out on a date.”
Quinn bites her lip, but that doesn’t stop the curve of her mouth. “I guess it sounds like I have some amazing plans. I’ll text you my address.” Then she extends her arm out to me, fingers splayed. “Want to give me another icy shot for the road?”
Hell, I’ve never had someone ask me to use my powers unless it was to chill a six-pack. But Quinn wants my frost against her skin.
Sandwiching her palm between both of mine, I let my stare drop to her cleavage. With that glorious sight in front of me, the cold spills out easily. I watch in fascination as goose bumps crest over her exposed skin in a wave.
She asked for this. She wants it, I have to remind myself.
“Thanks, boyfriend.” Quinn retracts her hand.
Then the Pyro shifts her Jeep into drive and pulls away.
And I’m certain she took a piece of me with her.