Chapter 16
Sixteen
Q uentin was so far gone he couldn’t even tell which way was up.
With her perched on the edge of the counter, her long legs locked around him, and her soft hand stroking his cock, it was a wonder he could string two words together much less say anything important.
But he needed to tell her. The words had been pressing on him for so long that it would be a relief to finally just have them out there.
“Jesus, Lowey,” he muttered as she circled him with her thumb. She could tempt a saint, and he’d never been accused of being that. It took all his willpower to reach down and grasp her wrist, stilling her hand. “We need to talk, whether you want to or not.”
“Nothing good ever begins with the phrase ‘we need to talk.’ Nothing.”
He grinned at that. “Normally, I’d agree with you…but I don’t think this is bad. I hope to hell you don’t either.”
She leaned back, her palms flat on the counter to support her weight. It was sexy as hell, but he didn’t think for one minute that she was trying to be. That was the hell of it with Lowey. Everything she did was unconsciously, innately sensual .
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked softly, and there was no mistaking the trepidation in her voice.
“I think I love you,” he said. In his head, he’d prepared a great speech, but there in the moment, it was gone. Instead, the words just tumbled out and landed like a bomb between them.
She blinked at him for a second. “That is not what I expected you to say.”
“What were you expecting?”
She shrugged. “That what we have is great, but that we’re getting ahead of ourselves, that we should still see other people, that it’s not me, it’s you. The list is endless, but you saying you thought you loved me wasn’t anywhere on it.”
“You had to know that…you had to know that if I can’t walk away from you, there’s a reason. What other reason could it be?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know why you walked away two months ago, and I didn’t know why you walked back into my bar yesterday,” she admitted. “What you just said to me, Quentin, it’s what I needed to hear from you two months ago.”
The implication that despite everything that had passed between them, it was too late, was there.
And maybe she was right. Maybe it was too late.
Maybe his fear of commitment, his fear of opening up and letting anyone in, had already wrecked what was probably the best thing that had ever happened in his life.
But he had to try. If the last two months had been any indication, whatever hurt pride or hurt feelings he was risking by laying it on the line couldn’t be any worse than the misery of being without her and wondering what if .
“Then let me rephrase. I don’t think that I’m in love with you, Harlow. I know I am. And as much of an ass as it makes me to admit it, I walked out on you because I was too much of a coward to face it then.”
She let her head fall back and sighed up to the ceiling.
“And when you get spooked again? What happens then, Quentin? I’m fine with us this way…
you and me, and whatever happens just happens.
No promises mean no expectations…but if you promise me things, if you let me hope for things, and then you take it away—I don’t know if I can forgive that. ”
“I’m sticking this time, Lowey. Whatever it takes. You can count on it.”
“I want so badly to believe that,” she whispered.
“If you let me, I’ll prove it,” he promised. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat, then traced his tongue over the arch of her collarbone. “Starting now. ”
Quentin reached for the button of her jeans and freed it with a flick of his thumb before sliding the zipper down.
Tugging them over her hips, he dropped them onto the floor and then pressed her back onto the countertop.
He let his hands roam over her, touching her everywhere, savoring every shudder and moan from her.
With Lowey, it wasn’t just about his own pleasure and making her come had nothing to do with his own ego.
It went beyond that, to something deep and visceral.
Primal even. She was his . In every way that mattered, and whether she stayed with him or not, this part of her would be his forever.
Maybe it was ego, after all, because he wanted her to feel that.
He wanted to know that long after he was gone, she’d still bear his mark on a part of her that no one else would ever touch.
Quentin kissed her again, taking her mouth, staking a claim. And then he moved lower, trailing kisses along her neck, her breasts, pausing to tease each nipple. Just as he reached the band of her underwear, a loud and obnoxious bang sounded at the door.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered and rested his head against her hip for just a second. “Who the fuck would be looking for us here? ”
“Ciaran,” she said. “Or one of your other siblings…they’re the only ones who know where we are. Whoever it is, they have shitty timing.”
He pulled his pants up and then gathered her discarded clothing. “Epically shitty…but this—this is not done. The minute we get rid of them, I’m going to lick every fucking inch of you.”
“Well, that’s romantic.”
“It will be,” he said. “And if it isn’t, it’s going to feel so damn good you won’t care.”
He walked toward the door, but stood there, waiting until Lowey was fully dressed again to open it. The pounding resumed along with a booming announcement.
“It’s the Sheriff! I know you’re in there, and you need to open up the door immediately.”
Quentin glanced back at Lowey. “This can’t be good.”
“It never is. But let the son of a bitch in.”
Quentin opened the door to see Silas standing there accompanied by two Fayette County officers. He was out of his jurisdiction since Ash Grove Farm was over the county line.
“Silas, you’re an unexpected and unwelcome surprise.”
“Can the attitude, Darcy,” Silas said. “I’m here to serve a warrant. ”
“For?” Quentin demanded.
“The warrant is issued to my cousin-in-law, not you.”
“Former cousin-in-law,” Lowey corrected as she stepped forward. She accepted the paperwork from Silas and frowned as she read through it. “Why are you searching The Kicking Mule? There’s not enough left of it to hide anything.”
“We’re looking for a weapon…a handgun in particular. It seems someone shot Joey this evening.”
Quentin frowned as Lowey asked. “Is he okay?”
“Why the hell would you care?” Silas demanded.
“For Joey, I don’t. But Juanita loves his worthless ass, and that woman has enough misery in her life already,” Lowey snapped at him.
“No. He’s not okay. He’s dead, and frankly no one has more cause to want him that way than you do,” Silas replied. “I wouldn’t advise taking any trips, Harlow. We’re going to want to talk to you again.”
“You’ve served your warrant,” Quentin said. “Now get the hell out.”
Silas lifted his chin challengingly. “You might run Fontaine, Quentin, but you don’t run me. I’m here in an official capacity. ”
“Which has been completed, and now you can go. Any time.” Quentin looked at the officers with him. “Unless there’s something else, gentlemen?”
The officers looked at one another, and then one of them looked at Silas. “We’re done here, Sheriff Barnes.”
After they left, Lowey cursed. “Son of a bitch. We need to get to the bar. I know there’s not much left of it, but what is left will be torn all to hell if Silas has his way.”
“How many guns do you have in the bar, Lowey?”
“I’ve got Papaw’s shotgun, and I’ve got a forty-five stashed there as well. Why?”
“Do you trust Silas to do an honest search? Do you think he’s above planting evidence?”
Her face paled. “Let’s get to the bar. Now .”