In a rush, she pulled a few pieces of bacon from the skillet and wrapped them in a paper towel, then bolted for the door just as the engine roared to life.
“Wait!” she called, sprinting for his truck, the hem of her robe flapping behind her. It wasn’t until she reached his Tacoma that the chill on her legs reminded her she hadn’t checked her clothes before she left the house.
“Oh, crap,” she said on a breath as she looked down in horror at her bare legs.
Dade opened the door with a look akin to amusement on his face where she’d expected anger. “What are you wearing?”
She opened her mouth and snapped it closed again, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second. “I brought you bacon.”
The smile dipped from his face, and the corners of his eyes tightened. “Bacon?”
“Boys like bacon,” she rushed out, regretting the words as they tumbled past her lips.
Dade scratched his ear and scanned the street behind him. “You don’t have any pants on.”
Grimacing, she handed him the wrapped meat and pulled her robe around her. “Sorry.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he said, eyebrows arching high. “You look fuckin’ hot.” Dade cleared his throat and stared at her bare feet. His contrite expression said he deeply regretted those words.
“I’m making breakfast for dinner. You want to come in?” she asked.
“Best if I don’t.” He held up the tiny, greasy care package. “Thanks for the bacon.” His eyes dropped to her silky robe once more before he got into his truck and shut the door.
“Bye,” she murmured in confusion as he sped away from her for the second time in one day.
Down the street, a pair of headlights turned on, and a black sedan coasted by. It looked like the one from earlier. The windows were tinted, which made it impossible to see inside, but the car brought gooseflesh to Quinn’s arms, and she pulled the robe tighter around her frame.
Cop shows were her favorite guilty pleasure. She didn’t know what Dade was into, but he was definitely being followed.
****
One week had passed, and Dade had disappeared like he’d never existed at all. Impressive since this was a small town, and she’d looked for him everywhere she went. Not on purpose, but her heart seemed hell-bent on getting another glimpse of the handsome mystery man who couldn’t be polite for more than thirty seconds. What did that say about her? That she was interested in a man who’s communication skills were horrid.
He was nothing like Jay.
The thought of him slashed pain through her middle, but the flood gates had opened now, and as she refilled shelves of medicine in the back room, she couldn’t help the memories that washed over her. Everything had been easy with Jay. Natural and simple. She’d met him when she was fourteen, and they’d grown up together. She’d planned on forever, but forever hadn’t lasted much longer than his nineteenth birthday.
She’d been perfectly content to stay single for the rest of her life, protecting her heart from that kind of pain again, but Dade had come in and stirred up feelings she hadn’t felt in a long time, like a flood kicking up silt from a river bottom.
Oh, she knew he was dangerous. The scar on his neck said he’d been through something awful and survived. And his cold demeanor was one he’d learned. Callousness like that didn’t come from leading an easy life. And then there was the black sedan watching his every move. Perhaps it was a bodyguard, keeping him safe from something, but what on God’s green and blue planet could threaten a behemoth of a man like Dade? He seemed so sure of himself, invincible even.
She imagined not much scared a man like him.
But intrigued by his backstory or not, he obviously wasn’t interested in her. For the hundredth time, she kicked herself for that stupid bacon line she’d used on him. Boys like bacon. Good grief. She was terrible at flirting. In her defense though, she hadn’t dated anyone since Jay. Six years, and the man she’d decided to latch onto was clearly unavailable and equally disinterested. Her flirting skills were about as rusty as a nail a decade under water.
Not to mention he was seven levels out of her league! Quinn glared in the mirror above a small sink in the corner. She’d been wearing extra make-up everyday on the off chance he would swing by. All that effort wasted on a ghost.
“Quinn?” Dr. Voss asked, sticking her head through the doorway. “I’m headed out. Are you almost finished with inventory?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll have it done in half an hour, tops. I can lock up if you want me to.”
“That would be great. My daughter has a recital tonight, and I need to get home and change before it starts.”