4
4
The Girls
D espite armfuls of luggage and bags, Quinn managed to get through the front doors of Calen Mountain Inn. Green pine garlands wrapped in white Christmas lights decked the rich warm wood-panelled walls, and a bushy fresh Christmas tree twinkled in all its glory in the front lobby.
“Quinn!” She turned and saw her two friends as they ran up, embracing her in a crazy, wonderful hug. Quinn almost toppled over, but her heart was bursting. The three women had been best friends since junior high, but now they lived in different parts of the country. Unfortunately, they didn’t see each other as often as they’d like, but when they did get together it was always epic.
They headed down the hall to the four-person room they had booked. Megan Mitchell and Belle Chan had arrived about half an hour before Quinn and had already settled in.
“He was hot though, right?” Meg teased taking a sip of her red wine as she winged on black eyeliner on her already cat-like gold eyes. Meg and Belle had pretty uneventful journeys to the mountain town, making them all the more intrigued to hear about Quinn’s experience with the cop.
“Pfft. Upon reflection, I think he was too much of an ass to be hot.” Quinn puffed back still frustrated that he’d actually given her a ticket at all, never mind one for three hundred dollars. It was ridiculous, and she didn’t even want to think about how she was going to pay for it.
Her friend Belle eyed her in the way that only best friends could when they detected a lie.
Quinn huffed. “Well, I’m not saying he wasn’t attractive physically, but seriously, he was cold and mean which made him completely not hot.” Her mind agreed with the sentiment even if, at the time, her body had not.
Megan laughed. “You already said he was hot. His piercing blue eyes, perfect jawline, accent, and all that.”
“I lied. Hot is pushing it.” Quinn felt irritated that she couldn’t seem to make up her mind. Yes, he was good-looking, but his mean personality wrecked it. What personality, really? He’d barely said a word, just glowered at her.
Megan ignored her. “Scottish accent, tall. Even the mean part doesn’t sound so bad,” she quirked her brows playfully.
“Yeah, well, how about the three hundred dollar ticket! And I swear he made me get out of the car just to be a jerk. It’s like he took pleasure in letting me freeze my butt off.”
“Maybe he wanted to check out your frozen butt.” Belle quipped giving Quinn a sly look over her shoulder from where she stood primping in front of the full-length mirror.
“Noo,” Quinn half whined, denying the very possibility. Had he really even looked at her? In the way a man looks at a woman. He’d watched her but mostly with his irritated or mystified scowl. There was that one moment though when he was almost eye to eye with her at the car window. His eyes had held something more—something she didn’t have time to put her finger on except to decide it was sexy. Quinn had definitely checked him out though. She could barely help herself. The man was far too good-looking.
Other than that smouldering sexy look that lasted for just the briefest, tastiest moment and was likely some figment of her imagination, there was no doubt in her mind Mean Hot Cop definitively did not notice her. Not in that way, anyhow. Nope, instead, he looked at her with almost contempt in those stormy blue eyes. So grouchy. And such an ass.
“Trust me. All he cared about was punishing me.” She threw the offending ticket down on the bed.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Megan murmured with a quirk of her golden blond brow.
Quinn glared at her.
“I mean think about it, he even has his own handcuffs.” Meg bit her lip and looked ready to swoon.
“Megs!” Quinn chided, and Belle gave Megan a friendly, shush-it-up shove with her hip.
“ What? ”
Quinn rolled her eyes. Belle had grabbed the wine bottle from the oak dresser and began filling up Quinn's glass, before topping up Megan's and her own, emptying the bottle.
Quinn took a hearty sip. It was frustrating. She really couldn’t afford any extra bills right now. She had worked out a budget to get her through the next couple of months, but it was tight. This stupid ticket would take its toll. Even going out tonight, she would have to choose her food and alcohol frugally.
“It does seem on the high side, especially considering it’s Christmas time,” Belle said picking up the ticket off the festive red and green plaid duvet to examine it.
“Exactly,” Quinn huffed, crossing her arms, wine glass still in hand. She took another deep sip, then bit at her lower lip worriedly.
“Fine. He’s an asshole,” Megs conceded but then grinned slyly. “A hot asshole, with handcuffs, come on girls, like who doesn’t like that??”
“Ugh, Megs!” Quinn shouldn’t be surprised by her friend. Megan always seemed to fall for the bad boys. She openly preferred her men a little on the asshole side.
“You know I’m right.” Megan laughed.
“Hey, he didn’t put a date on here,” Belle said.
“What? Really?” Quinn sat beside her on the bed, taking the ticket from her to examine it.
Meg leaned over them both. “Ha!” She laughed out. “No date, no crime!”
“It was hardly a crime,” Quinn said, still feeling touchy about it all and completely ignoring the point.
“Quinn, you can fight that ticket. They’ll throw it out. They have to,” Meg said more seriously.
“Really?” Quinn didn’t know about such things.
“I’m 99.9 percent sure no date equals no ticket.”
“Ha! Ha!” Quinn felt a rush of triumph in her veins. It was like an odd kind of Karma. That cop had seemed to take such pleasure in fining her, and now the fine would be thrown out. Too bad for him! She felt like she’d won. Big jerk. And she also felt some relief. Now, she wouldn’t have to worry about where she’d have to cut into her budget. Thank God.
“I wonder if he realized?” Belle asked curiously her black brows knit together.
“I hope he did, and I hope it ticked him off and ruined his day.” Quinn huffed, polishing off her wine feeling pleased at the turnaround of events.
“Oh, Quinn, play nice,” Belle scolded her for her pettiness. It was not like Quinn to be spiteful.
“Fine, I know, I know. I don’t wish him ill, but I am glad that I don’t have to pay. I can’t help taking the slightest pleasure in knowing Mr. Hot Cop, Mean Cop, messed up!”