Except Quinn Archer is the best kind of trouble I’ve ever been in; the kind of trouble that you can’t get enough of, the kind of trouble that keeps hooking you back in, and the kind of trouble that you could just find yourself falling in lo-
Whoa.
I let my hammer drop as I look up at her again, and this time she catches my eye and winks at me as she pushed a strand of hair out of her face. I can feel my whole heart get bigger inside, my pulse jumping in my veins as I meet those eyes of hers and just let myself get sucked in.
Just what kind of “L” word am I prepared to use when it comes to Quinn?
26
Quinn
“So, you think I did OK today?”
We’re sitting on the balcony of the El Presidente suite of the luxury hotel back in Havana looking over the bay. Apparently, even doing humanitarian outreach comes with a little luxury when you’ve got Logan Dempsey-type money. The place is honestly a palace, occupying the entire top floor of the hotel and with full balcony terraces overlooking all of Havana Bay. Honestly, if we hadn’t spent the entire day giving immunization shots to kids at a hospital he built, I’d have put my foot down at first sight of this place.
“Yeah, Doc,” He grins at me and raises the glass of rum on ice in his hand to me; “You did OK.”
I fake pout at him; “Just OK, huh?”
I yelp as his other hand jerks out to grab my wrist and he pulls me giggling into his lap; “Ok darlin, you did amazing work back there, but quit pretending you don’t know that.”
I’m feeling wild, free, and more alive than I have since maybe even medical school, and for once, I push all those “what-ifs” and “maybes” and “but what abouts” out of my head as I lean in and kiss him. It’s not a hot and heavy make-out type kiss either, like it seems has been our style either. It’s just that; a kiss. And in that moment, I’m know suddenly and without a doubt that I’m kissing the real Logan. This is tender, and there’s something more behind it than just lust, and with a dawning realization, I suddenly know that this is Logan sans-armor. This is this man at his most open and unguarded, and in that moment, I know that whatever this crazy feeling is that I’m feeling for him is even bigger and wilder than I thought it was.
His lips tastes like sweet rum and there’s something even more intoxicating about that than even the drink in my own hand.
“So is that a ‘Hey thanks for bringing me to Cuba, Logan, and letting me get my hands dirty doing what I love to do’ kiss?” He’s grinning at me, and for a moment I’m terrified that the humor and cavalier attitude that he uses as his armor will come up, and I quickly kiss him again.
It’s deeper this time, moving from tender to something bolder; something more passionate. I’m kissing him with everything I have, because I need him to stay right here with me in this moment. I need to be in his arms; the real Logan.
“Mmm, now that was a thank-you kiss.” He murmurs into my mouth, his tongue darting out to run against my lips.
“Shh, hang on.” I whisper back, kissing him again.
“What?”
“Just- “ I hesitate, pulling back to look deeply into his green-gold eyes with my wide-eyed blues; “Just keep those walls down. I just want you, as is, without the armor.” His eyes flash at me, and yet he holds my gaze; “Just just stay here, right here with me.” I whisper.
“Darlin,” He says thickly, leaning into me as his lips brush mine; “There’s nowhere else in the whole world I’d rather be than right here, right now, with you.”
I kiss him again before pulling back once more; “You know what I mean though, right?” This is the moment of truth; this is the moment where he either lets me in or those walls come up again, and if it’s the latter, I’m not sure I’ll ever get in. The thought has me suddenly terrified of him even answering.
He takes my chin in his hand and kisses me deep and slowly, like something out of a Hollywood movie; “This is just me, Quinn.” He says deeply and quietly; “No more walls, no more games; you have all of me.” And when our lips meet again, I know without a doubt he’s right.
“So, Logan Dempsey,” I pull back from the kiss and peer at him mischievously; “Is that a family name?”
He chuckles; “Anyone ever tell you that subtlety isn’t really your bag, Quinn?”
I giggle into his neck as he pulls me against his chest and tickles me; “Oh comon! You’re always so guarded; cut a girl some slack when she sees a little chink in that armor of yours and wants to get to know the guy she’s running around with a little bit more!”