10
Where the Bad Guys Go
G rowling her frustration, she reluctantly conceded to getting in the back seat. He held out his black-gloved hand to help her up. As if. Haughtily refusing his help, she instead grabbed an interior handle and lifted herself in, as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Closing her eyes and gathering her composure, she felt relieved to be seated, even if it was in the back of a police truck.
For a split second, a moment in time, she thought she’d finally cracked the cop's code. Found the man under the uniform. She’d even been momentarily convinced he was going to kiss her, but in an instant, Mean Cop made a comeback. Despite alcohol frolicking merrily through her, the rejection smarted, like the crack of a whip.
The warmth of his police truck enveloped her, melting away her agitation, and she sighed contentedly. Despite sitting in the spot reserved for jailbirds, she had to admit the toasty heat was heavenly on her frozen extremities. The comforting warmth was so deliciously distracting that she almost didn’t notice the dog eyeing her from the front seat. “Aww, hi, you sweet thing,” she said gently as she put her hand to the grate between them, and let him sniff her.
The driver's side door opened, and Quinn sat back in her seat. She silently watched as the tall broad cop slid into the driver’s seat. The first thing he did was get on his radio, Quinn couldn’t very well pretend not to hear what he was saying, so instead she listened intently. He was telling them about those assholes, and Quinn was surprised at how thorough a description he gave like he had a photographic memory. The one guy had been right in Quinn’s face, and she couldn’t recall the first thing about what he looked like—only that his smell revolted her. She shuddered recalling it.
“Aye, Barnes and Hanson are on site.”
“Calling into them now. Thanks, Sergeant. Enjoy your holidays.”
“Copy that. Thank ye, /4.”
The sudden silence made Quinn glance up, and she caught his stormy blue eyes studying her in his rearview mirror. She wished she knew what he was thinking, especially as he wasn’t wearing his usual scowl.
“Where are you off to? For your holidays?” Quinn asked curiously. “Hopefully somewhere warm. God, I’d love to go to the Caribbean and just lay on that white sand soaking in the sun drinking some fruity boozy drink with a little umbrella in it.” The vision made her smile. “Have you ever been to the Caribbean? The water in the pictures doesn’t even look real it’s so turquoise and clear. Do you think it’s like that in real life?” She paused to consider it, then continued. “Do you know, I’ve never even seen a palm tree.” She caught his gaze in the mirror, looking at him expectantly. She should have known she'd find nothing more than weary boredom on his annoyingly handsome face.
“Where are ye staying Ms. West?” he asked as if she hadn’t just been engaging him in conversation.
Quinn’s smile dropped, and she turned her head to look out the window. What an ass. She had to bite her tongue not to give him a piece of her mind, for all the good it would do.
“The Calen Mountain Inn. Down the road,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Aye, I know where it is.”
Quinn rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in chatting which was fine by her. Between feeling frustrated and getting to the not-so-good stage of being drunk, she just sat in the back of the truck quietly feeling mildly irritated and also a little queasy. Actually more than a little queasy, and her head was really starting to swim. Even the heat was losing its bone-warming effect.
As he drove out of the packed parking lot, Quinn needed a distraction and asked, “What’s your dog’s name?” And almost kicked herself because she couldn’t seem to hold her tongue for a moment. Why was she trying to engage him in conversation again?
“Bear,” he responded.
Ignoring him, she spoke to the dog instead. “Bear, you’re so sweet, aren’t you?” she said, reaching up to the metal divider to scratch his soft fur through the grates as he leaned in to her touch.
“He’s on duty, so it's best to keep your hands to yourself,” Mean Cop said bluntly. She got the impression he wasn't just talking about his dog. Bear didn’t seem to be on duty, at least based on what she’d witnessed yesterday. His on-duty behaviour had been quite different from the behaviour of the docile dog looking back at her now.
But Quinn immediately dropped her hand, disappointed Sergeant Mackenzie didn’t even want her to pet his dog. Perhaps it was reasonable, but somehow, it just felt like she irritated the man by her very presence. It wasn’t like she asked for a ride. That had been his idea.
She eyed him in the rearview mirror from the back seat. Even in a truck, he seemed big—tall, broad, and muscular. His dark hair was cut short. She was a sucker for the clean-cut look. Curse him.
“Are you always so mean?” she asked, not wanting to think about how physically attractive she found him.
“Aye,” he said matter-of-factly. His eyes caught hers in the mirror, but there was a twitch in his lips right before he said it like he wanted to smile but held it back.
She huffed in disapproval and looked out the window again, trying to breathe through the little waves of nausea that had started to assault her as they drove. She was definitely tipsy, but it would be okay. It was probably just the motion of Mean Hot Cop’s truck making her feel worse.
“I’m no’ being mean, 'tis my job. Technically, Bear isnae on duty at the moment, but it is confusing for him to huv friendly interactions with someone who is sitting in the backseat of this truck.”
She could understand that, but why couldn’t he have just said that in the first place instead of making her feel like she was doing something wrong?
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that you attract more bees with honey?” She crossed her arms, looking back up at him in the mirror.
“I’ve no desire to attract bees.” He sounded dumbfounded by her comment.
She laughed despite herself. “All I’m saying is that a little kindness can go a long way.”
“Aye, well, I’m saving ye from becoming an ice sculpture aren’t I?”
She smiled at that. Maybe Mean Hot Cop had a sense of humour in there.
“It isnae very sensible though, dressing for summer in the dead of winter,” he added gruffly.
She rolled her eyes. He just had to say something snarky.
It took longer than she thought to get back to the inn, and she found herself much relieved that the cop gave her a ride. She just might have frozen if she’d tried to walk it. At the same time, she was eager to stop moving and get back into the fresh cold air.
As they pulled up near the glass doors, her head was really starting to spin. As soon as they stopped, she tried to open the door, needing to get out, but it was jammed. Then it occurred to her that she was in the back seat of a cop’s vehicle. They wouldn’t open from the inside. God, and here she was getting out of the back of a police truck, not the best look. Good thing nobody knew her here.
As he eyed her in the rearview mirror, he almost chuckled watching her try to open the door.
How had this wee stubborn lass been able to push his buttons? He’d made sure to sit her in the back seat away from him after whatever the hell that was that happened between them in the bar parking lot. He knew that it pissed her off to sit where the “bad guys” went, but there was no way he could have her sit up front with him. And all her nattering. He’d never know a lass to blether so much.
Although when she’d talked about the turquoise waters of the Caribbean, he came mighty close to telling her about the beautiful turquoise waters of the sea up in northern Scotland. White sandy beaches and turquoise waters that stretched for miles with the rugged mountains as a backdrop and usually nary a soul to be found. It was heaven on earth.
He might be giving the lass a hard time, but until he could get his cock to remember it was on a diet, it was better to keep her at a safe distance. Currently, that was the back seat.
She caught his eyes in the mirror. “Are you going to let me out?” she asked not hiding her irritation.
“Aye.” He sighed more than ready to be done for the evening.
He got out and opened the door for her, standing back. This time, he didn’t offer a helping hand as she’d made it clear when she got in that she didn’t want it.
“A little help would be nice,” she said, looking pointedly at him.
God, this woman. He offered to help her in and she snubbed him, and now she wanted his help out. Forget it.
“There’s a handle up there. Ye managed to get in. I’m sure ye can manage to get out,” he said bluntly, stepping back to allow her to sort it out herself. It annoyed him that he had to restrain himself from offering his hand. Hell, he had to restrain himself from putting his hands around her waist and hoisting her out.
Big brown eyes assessed him coolly. Apparently, she found him rude. Well too bad. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she tried to maneuver herself out of his truck, but her movements were sloppy. He could see before it happened that she wasn’t going to make it. Her high heel shoe slid on the truck rail, and she lost her grip on the handle above her head causing her to fall unceremoniously right into his ready-waiting arms.
That was the second time that night she’d fallen into him. The first time, he had no problems setting her on her feet and letting go. It wasn’t even a thought, but this time, Jeezus hell , why did it feel like he was crossing a line? He felt hyper-aware of every part of her body touching his. He was wearing a bulletproof vest for God’s sake. He shouldn’t be feeling a bloody thing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Needing to put some immediate space between them, he deftly extricated himself from her.
Quinn’s big brown eyes looked up at him, and she took a deep breath as if steadying herself. “Um, thank you for the ride. And for catching me. Twice,” she added awkwardly and then huffed. “But I will also say that you should try to be a nicer person.” Apparently satisfied she’d said her piece, she sucked in another deep breath and moved to walk past him to the door of the inn, but he stepped out in front of her.
“What? What now?” she grumbled, and he noticed her sway slightly.
“It’s not my job to be nice.” His tone was level, but his eyes were stormy.
“Fine, but,” she stopped mid-sentence taking a deep nasal breath, and then she looked up at him with a hazy look in her brown eyes. Impervious to acting strange, she leaned and little closer and breathed in again. “Mmm, like what is that cologne anyway?” she said as if speaking to herself and not for his benefit.
Caught off guard, he answered plainly, “It’s fae Scotland. It’s aftershave no’ cologne. I dinnae recall the name.”
Her big brown eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Had she not meant to say that out loud? And why was he bothering to tell her that anyway? Christ, he just wanted to get home to bed.
Moving away from him, she tucked her auburn hair behind her ear. “Oh. Right.” Her eyes scrunched closed, and she pursed her lips before blurting. “I just noticed it. That’s all. Um, it smells like my brother’s.”
He gave her a dubious look but chose to leave it be. “Aye, well if you’re going to be sticking around town. Ye may want to invest in some proper winter clothing. Boots and a winter coat.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his tone. “Ye are in the mountains, Ms. West.”
“This is a winter coat,” she snapped and then let out a little moan as she clutched her stomach. Looking up at the night sky, she started taking quick exaggerated breaths. “Are ye okay, lass?”
Panicked big eyes darted to his. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick,” she whimpered right before the contents of her belly came hurdling out of her with a ferocious force and a primal-sounding retch.
Alex should have recognized the signs. The deep breaths, the swaying. He should have known it was coming, but he stood back shell shocked. Fortunately, she’d managed to turn away from him. It wouldn’t have been his first time being puked on, but he was thankful for small mercies that tonight wasn’t one of those times. Christ, it sounded like the woman was exorcising the devil from her body. Self-induced or not, he couldn’t help feeling bad for her.
With the violent episode at an end, Quinn straightened on shaky legs holding the back of her hand to her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I feel better now, I think.” She gave him a weak smile and tried to step towards the door, but she swayed heavily to one side before barely being able to right herself.
Alex had two choices. Leave the lass to fend for herself, which at the moment looked like a highly improbable task or he could get even more involved than he regretfully already was.