Chapter 25
Quinn’s friend at the shelter hadn’t wanted to let us take the cat, but a hefty donation had changed her mind. I didn’t care. By the time we’d found Leo, I felt bad for all the animals waiting for new homes. And it was only money. I’d spent years earning a ton, risking my life, and hadn’t spent much. I had more in the bank than I knew what to do with.
I thought of the dog I’d bought for Quinn. From the outside looking in, I was nuts. Between Leo and Remy’s dog, I’d spent upward of fifteen thousand on animals for Quinn. I should be kicking myself. That much cash on a woman I wasn’t even sleeping with? Wasn’t sleeping with anymore, I corrected myself. It didn’t matter. It felt good to take care of Quinn. And after seeing her face relax into peace when she cuddled the oversized cat, I’d have done anything to make sure we were bringing Leo home with us.
Besides, I’d taken a good look at the claws on that cat. He wasn’t a protection-trained Belgian Malinois, but I’d bet he’d slice the hell out of anyone who got in between him and his Quinn cuddles. I knew the feeling.
The big box store outside town had a decent pet section. Quinn filled our cart with everything she thought she might need. Two cat beds, a pile of toys. All natural, gourmet cat food. I stood in the middle of the aisle, staring at the top shelf, debating litter boxes.
I had to acknowledge I hadn’t thought this through. Until this recent threat, Quinn had essentially lived outside. What the hell was she going to do with an indoor cat? She had the guide business in town, but I already knew she wouldn’t leave Leo there to spend half his life alone. She wasn’t moving back into Heartstone Manor. No fucking way. Not unless she worked through the past and was ready for it. I didn”t see that happening anytime soon.
That left the gatehouse. My gatehouse. Was I moving Quinn in with me? That was insane.
There were a million reasons why we couldn’t be together, much less why I couldn’t move her in with me. A million reasons why it wasn’t fucking happening. And yet here I was, looking at fucking litter boxes. Fuck me. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I didn”t know what I wanted. This was temporary. And yet?—
I reached up to the top shelf, grabbing the expensive automatic litter box. What did I care? It was only money, and I wasn’t scooping cat shit. Not even for Quinn and Leo. I read the side, making sure it was big enough for Leo’s oversized body. Satisfied, I rested the huge box on top of the cart, leaning down to snag a bag of litter from the bottom shelf, fighting a smile as Quinn debated between three different catnip mice.
“Get them all,” I said. “Odds are he won’t play with any of them because he”s a fucking cat, and cats do what they want, but get them all anyway. He might surprise us. Angela said he likes to play.”
The side of Quinn”s mouth quirked up, sending a beam of light straight into my withered heart, and I knew I didn”t give a fuck about how nuts this was. The cat. The litter box. Buying her an expensive dog. Moving her into my gatehouse.
Quinn wasn’t mine. Couldn’t ever be mine. But I”d still do anything to see that smile. I liked seeing her happy, especially after everything she’d told me earlier. I couldn’t forget her haunted eyes, the way she’d touched her cheek. Her father had hit her. I wished he was still alive so I could kill him myself. Prentice Sawyer was out of my reach, but the man in the dark was still out there somewhere. Quinn didn’t know how to find him, but I did. At least, I knew where to start. Today was for Quinn and Leo, but tomorrow I’d take the first step in finding the man who’d terrorized Quinn. She’d spent too many years suffering. Now it was his turn.
The paperwork was ready when we got back to the shelter. Quinn signed everything, and I paid while she wasn’t looking. I knew she could buy all of this for herself if she wanted to. But with Prentice’s rules about the will, Quinn’s current income was based on the guide business. It did well, but as I handed over my credit card for the third time today, I realized that even if she’d noticed I was paying and had fought me for it, I would have done it anyway. I liked taking care of Quinn. Not just protecting her—that I was used to. It was my job, and I was damn good at it. But care, that was something else. Helping her with her crutches, making her a doctor’s appointment—I had no business doing shit like that, but it felt so good I didn’t give a fuck.
With coos and ear scratches, she half coaxed, half forced the oversized feline into the travel crate we’d bought. Leo looked absurd, jammed into a crate designed for a much less fluffy cat. Caramel and cream streaks of fur burst out the wire windows, his chirps and trills piteous.
“What’s with the sounds?” I asked, daring to stick a finger in the crate. He glared at me through the bars but allowed me to rub his head.
“Maine Coons don’t meow,” Angela said. “Not unless there’s another cat in the house that teaches them. Leo has heard enough regular meows by now, but I’ve never heard him do it himself. I”m glad someone”s finally bringing him home. I’ve never seen him take to somebody like he has to Quinn.”
I nodded in thanks and followed Quinn out the door.
The sun was dipping in the sky by the time we got the litter box set up and Leo situated in his new, temporary home. Quinn sat on my couch, her feet up, exhausted by so much activity, Leo a fuzzy mound on her lap. She was energetic and otherwise healthy, but hobbling around on crutches still took it out of you, and she”d been through a lot in the last few days.
I texted Kane, who was on shift in the control room.
Have Finn make us up some plates and send someone over. Quinn”s not coming to the house tonight.
On it, boss.
I opened a beer and sat on the other end of the couch, my feet up, eyes closed, listening to the giant cat purr, a little jealous. I wanted Quinn to pet and coo at me. Not going there, remember?
But the part of me that wanted to feel Quinn’s fingertips digging into the nape of my neck didn’t care.
Quiet minutes passed, then a beep on my phone, and an image flashed on the screen. Kane was at the door holding a tray. He was quick. I swung the door open, ushering him inside, ignoring the grin that spread across his face as he took in Quinn lying on the couch, the mass of cat on her lap, purring up a storm.
“Hey, Quinn,” he said.
“Hey, Kane. Thanks for dinner,” she said with a welcoming smile.
“Anytime,” he answered, his eyes falling on Leo and narrowing. “You bring home a mountain lion cub?” he asked.
Quinn laughed, her fingers digging into the spot behind Leo’s ear she”d already learned he loved. Watching Leo’s gold eyes fixed on Kane, my previous thought about Leo’s value as a guard animal solidified further. Leo stayed where he was on Quinn’s lap, but his attention was hyper focused on Kane and he’d stopped purring. I was now sure the cat would use those sharp teeth and claws on anyone he didn”t like, which only made me like him more.
I noticed Kane was studying the cat in return, a healthy respect in his eyes. Kane had always been a smart man. “I’ll put this on the counter,” he said and set the loaded tray down in the kitchen before turning to go. As he passed by me, he said under his breath, “Awfully domestic in here, boss.”
“Fuck off,” I said easily, low enough that Quinn couldn’t hear over the cat’s purr, which had started back up as soon as Kane moved toward the door. “And stop calling me boss.”
It was a long-standing disagreement between us. Technically, I was his boss on this job, but when we”d worked together at Sinclair Security, we’d been peers. I was only his boss at Heartstone Manor because he was taking a break from his real job. Until recently, Kane had led Sinclair”s hostage recovery team. He was damn good at it, but he”d lost a hostage eight months ago. A kid, and that shit was always hard to live with.
He’d gone back to work, gone to the mandated therapy, but a few months later he’d asked Cooper to lend him to me for a while. He needed a break, and I was grateful to have him, especially now that Quinn was under threat. I knew as soon as he was ready, Kane would be back in the thick of things and out of Sawyers Bend. He teased me about me being his boss, but more than anything, we were friends.
“Whatever, man,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Just saying. Looks cozy in here.”
I walked him to the door, speeding up the process with a shove in the middle of his back. “She”s Griffen”s little sister,” I said quietly. I expected Kane to nod in agreement, but he shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Keep telling yourself that, man, if that”s the excuse you need. You and I both know Griffen wouldn’t get in your way.”
I didn”t respond to that. I didn”t know. And even if he wouldn’t, staying away from Quinn wasn’t just part of my job. I was looking out for my best friend. If Griffen was dumb enough to trust me with his sister, that just proved he needed me looking out for his best interests. And hers. “Whatever you think this is, you’re wrong. This is temporary. I’m just keeping her safe,” I said with a little more force than necessary.
“Sure. Keep her safe. Or you could just keep her.” Kane grinned at my scowl, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Give a shout if you guys need anything.” Ignoring my growl, he called over his shoulder, “See you later, Quinn.”
“Bye, Kane. Thanks for dinner,” she called back.
Leo let out a chirp that sounded like a warning. Then again, it could have been a demand for dinner because he abandoned Quinn the second I opened a can of food, broke it into chunks with a fork, and set it on the floor.
“Hey,” Quinn said, sitting up. “What did Finn send over for dinner? I didn”t realize how hungry I was until now.” She leaned forward as if to stand.
“Stay there,” I said. “I’ll bring you the tray.”
I pulled the covers off the plates and organized everything, delivering Quinn’s tray to her lap—meatloaf with mashed potatoes and peas. The scents drifting up from the plate had my stomach rumbling and my mouth watering.
Finn was a classically trained chef, and he could make the fancy stuff as well as any chef on TV. But in my opinion, he killed it with comfort food. Meatloaf. Chili. Fried chicken. Cornbread. Biscuits. Fresh baked bread. Lasagna. All fucking amazing. I”d happily put up with the derelict gatehouse for meals like this.
The cooks before Finn had been decent, but since he’d taken over, we’d been eating like royalty. Quinn and I dug in, not bothering to talk when we had Finn’s meatloaf. He’d smoked it, stuffed it with cheese and spinach, and covered it in a savory tomato sauce. So good.
Stomach full, I cleared Quinn’s tray and brought her dessert—homemade vanilla ice cream topped with crumbled ginger molasses cookies and a drizzle of caramel. The cookies were Savannah’s favorite, and ever since Finn had perfected the recipe, he made them often.
Leo rejoined us the second Quinn’s tray was gone, draping himself across her lap and nudging her free hand until she went back to rubbing his ears.
“Angela said he wasn’t friendly. I think she was talking about the wrong cat,” I said, leaning to stroke his side. He flopped over, giving me more cat to rub. I obliged, the full, soft fur warm and silky.
“I don”t know,” Quinn said, “but he seems to like both of us.” She glanced out the window to the dark sky. “I can”t believe I”m tired so early.”
“Recovering from an injury takes it out of you,” I said. “It’s too early for bed, or you”ll wake up in the middle of the night. I grabbed the Uno deck from the cabin when I picked up your pack.”
Her eyes lit. “Really? Did your ego need a stroke or something?”
“I”m not that good,” I protested, retrieving the deck from where I’d left it on the kitchen counter.
“What? So the other night was just a fluke?” Quinn laughed. “You destroyed me.”
“I have a good memory,” I admitted. “And I had good luck.” Uno was mostly about luck, but counting cards and knowing how to play your opponent didn’t hurt. So much of my work came down to memory, attention to detail, and understanding people. How to read them, how to know what they wanted, and what they’d do to get it. At this point, it was second nature, and God knew I was used to making the best of whatever good luck I had.
The memory thing was a skill, one that was double-edged. On the one hand, I probably could have made a fortune if I”d switched to professional poker or blackjack, but I”d never wanted to spend my life in a casino. On the other hand, I never forgot anything, even when I wanted to. The things I’d seen—the things I’d done—played in my mind on repeat when I closed my eyes. I couldn’t leave my past behind, no matter how hard I tried. For a while, I thought the memories would drive me mad. I was close to the edge when I’d gone to the Sinclairs, to Griffen, and the work they’d given me had saved me. Helping people who needed me—that was what my skills were for, not card games. That didn”t mean I couldn’t have a little fun.
I dealt out the deck and we played a round. I won after a fierce battle. Quinn had snagged almost all the draw fours, and even my memory and strategy struggled to overcome the sheer number of cards she piled in my hand. I didn’t care, loving her glee every time she slapped down another draw four and made me pick up more cards.
In the middle of the third round, when Quinn could barely hold her massive stack of cards and wasn’t giving Leo enough attention, he uncurled himself from her lap and stretched. I’d guess he was almost four feet from his nose to the tip of his fluffy tail. He was goddamn massive. His steps light, as if he was a kitten, he picked his way across the couch. With one contained leap, he landed in my lap, narrowly missing my balls. I winced anyway, and Quinn burst into laughter.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Barely,” I said, my hand coming up automatically to stabilize Leo. He arched into it, his purr a heavy rumble, butting the top of his head against my chin. He settled in, leaning into my chest, the vibration of his purr oddly relaxing.
Quinn looked at the two of us and smiled softly. “He likes you,” she said.
“Yeah,” I answered, scratching his head. Because with all those teeth and claws, what was I going to do, say no? I”d expected the cat to fall in love with Quinn. Who wouldn’t? I hadn’t thought he’d have any interest in me. Or that I’d like him back.
“You want me to take him? Is he bothering you?”
“Nah, he”s fine. Besides, I don”t want to piss him off. He might eat me in my sleep.” I wasn’t totally kidding.
She laughed, the sound almost a giggle. I loved hearing it. I wasn’t going to think about that though. Thinking about making Quinn laugh and how much I liked it would only lead me down a dangerous road.
Two more rounds of Uno later, Quinn threw the cards at me. “You”re cheating. I don”t know how, but you have to be cheating.”
I collected the cards, not bothering to hide my grin. “I wouldn’t cheat at Uno. Jeez, it”s a kids’ game.”
“Then how do you keep winning?” she demanded.
I shrugged. “I guess I”m just that good.” Her answering laugh had me smiling so wide my cheeks hurt.
Quinn yawned.
“Bedtime,” I announced, standing and scooping Leo out of her lap, tossing him half over my shoulder. He rubbed the side of his head against my neck and settled in, his lower half supported by my arm, his tail dangling to swish back and forth. His sharp claws kneaded my shoulder, pricking my skin just enough to hurt but not enough for me to put him down. Not with the rumble of that deep purr against my chest. I didn”t know why Leo had chosen us, but I was glad he had.
Reaching down with one hand, I pulled Quinn to her feet, scowling a little as she ignored her crutches to thump her way to the bathroom. The boot stabilized her ankle enough to give her some freedom, but I didn”t want her to overuse it and set back her recovery. Not when I knew how eager she was to get back out there.
A few minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom in a T-shirt and sleep shorts, and hopped into the hammock I’d rehung. “Thanks for taking me to the shelter, Hawk. And for, you know, everything.” Her jaw cracked in a wide yawn.
“Anytime,” I said, and I meant it. I was a fucking moron, but I meant it. I dropped Leo on her chest, wondering how long he would stay in the hammock with her.
Leaving them to settle in, I headed upstairs to change. I was down a few minutes later. I checked the hammock, seeing that Quinn was already asleep, Leo dozing on top of her. When I passed, he lifted his head, looking at me with those golden eyes as if to say, I’ve got this. And weirdly, I knew he did. I wished for just a second that the hammock was big enough for two. Or three, counting the cat.
But this was better. Smarter. Stretching out on the couch, I scrolled on my phone, too awake for sleep.
Hours later, I was mostly out when my phone vibrated on my chest. At the same time, a flash of light illuminated the gatehouse, too long to be lightning but just as abrupt.
I was instantly awake, checking my phone first to see a message from Kane.