Rebecca Zanetti - Under the Covers

Juliet lifted her eyebrows.

Quinn smiled and shoved the plates into the refrigerator. “Mrs. Phillips is missing both of her sons. One is in Idaho at a convention, and the other is overseas. She always makes plenty of food, and I usually get extras when the boys are out of town.”

Juliet glanced past him to the myriad of different dishes in the refrigerator. “It looks like a lot of women feed you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shut the door and sat down.

She’d bet her last pair of shoes most of the dishes were made by single women and not grandmotherly types like Mrs. Phillips. “Well, a man has to eat something other than scrambled eggs and cheese.”

“Exactly.” His gaze wandered over the white dress shirt she’d borrowed. “You look darn nice in my shirt.” He shoved his plate to the side. “Why don’t we head back to bed?”

She swallowed, caught by the fire in his eyes. “Good idea.”

The phone rang again. With a muffled expletive, Quinn answered it. After listening, he took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, he flashed an apologetic grin. “Joan Daniels heard a noise in her backyard. She called me because she’s just down the road, and I can get there sooner than the guys on duty in town.”

Juliet studied his strong face. “You don’t seem worried.”

“She hears something every other week or so. It’s usually the wind. But, we did have a sighting of a cougar last week, so I need to check it out.” He reached for his gun on top of the refrigerator. “Can I borrow that shirt?”

“No.” Juliet slid off the chair. Forty-year-old, four times divorced, Joan Daniels wore low-cut shirts and partied in town a lot. She was the cougar Quinn should look out for. No doubt she’d called the sexy sheriff for more than a cougar sighting. “I’ll clean up while you’re gone.”

“You’re the best.” He placed a quick kiss on Juliet’s forehead. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” After running upstairs, he returned fully dressed and wearing his hat. “Lock the door behind me.” Then he was gone.

How many women did the sheriff rush out to rescue on a daily basis? Juliet shook her head. She didn’t have a claim on the man, and she’d insisted on no strings. A quick survey of the kitchen proved the sheriff made quite the mess when he cooked. But hey, he had cooked for her. She dug in and had the room cleaned in short order. The silence ticked around her.

Maneuvering up the stairs, she made the bed. Sitting down, she pressed the sheriff’s pillow to her face. Male, wild, and free. Yeah. The scent of Quinn. The sense of safety surrounded her in his bed. With a sigh, she lay down and closed her eyes for just a moment.

A strong hand shook her shoulder. “Juliet? Wake up, baby.”

She started awake.

Quinn stood over her, lines of fatigue cutting into the side of his mouth. “It’s after midnight, sweetheart. I’ll take you home before heading to the station to write up my report.”

She shook her head and sat up. “Was there something outside of Joan’s house?”

“Yes. A fully grown, hungry cougar.” Quinn rubbed his whiskered jaw. “Now we have cougars too close to residences. Those animals can be wicked.”

“Oh.” She flipped back the bedspread and stood. When had she fallen asleep?

Her dreams had been filled with some odd guy named Bob who kept telling her to go for her greatest wishes. Now her dreams ordered her around.

Quinn tugged her into his hard body and rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “Thank you for a wonderful night.”

“Right back at you, Sheriff.” The warm arms around her melted her muscles into relaxation.

He stepped back. “Get dressed, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Also, Sophie is driving up to the lodge instead of riding in the trail fund-raiser tomorrow. I’ll just have her pick you up on the way.”

“Excellent.” That way, appearances would be met. The world would think she and the sheriff were dating. Well, they were having sex, but he didn’t want her to stay the night. That was all right. She didn’t want to stay the night, now did she? “I’ll be ready in a moment.”

He nodded and headed downstairs.

Well, now. Where exactly did she leave her clothes?

The morning sun trickled weakly through the heavy clouds, promising a rainstorm. Quinn wound twine around the post, snipping the ends into smoothness. The heated summer-storm season was about to hit, and the ranch wasn’t prepared. “You’re lucky I didn’t have my gun on me last night,” he muttered at his brother.

Colton chortled and kicked a rock into place to secure another post. “From what I saw, you didn’t have anything on you.”

Quinn threw the ball of twine at the dumbass. “You’re a moron.”

“Maybe.” Colton tugged his Stetson down against the piercing wind. Even so, his multicolored hair blew around his neck. “But I would’ve kept the woman all night and not driven her home before midnight.”

Jake glanced up from where he pounded in a new post.

Irritation whipped through Quinn stronger than the damn wind. “I haven’t kicked your ass in a while, little brother, but don’t think I’m opposed to the idea.”

The smart-ass grin Colton shot him nearly guaranteed a beating. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t just been studying animal science the last three years, you know.”

“Don’t think the MMA crap you’ve been doing comes close to special-ops-training, Colton Freeze.” Sure, Quinn was proud of his little brother. That didn’t mean he couldn’t beat the shit out of him now and then.

Jake threw the hammer into the back of the battered Ford where it clanked across the faded metal. “I’m fairly certain the sheriff shouldn’t commit battery—especially during an election cycle.”

“Stop sounding like a lawyer,” Quinn snapped.

“I am a lawyer.” Jake grabbed a fence-hole digger and plunged the blades into the moist earth. “As much as it pains me to admit this, I agree with Colt. Your reputation of lovin’ ’em and leavin’ ’em is ticking off Mom. Let a woman stay the night once in a while.”

“Love ’em and leave ’em?” Quinn hefted a fence pole from the back of the truck. “I don’t even date anybody in town.”

“You don’t date, period.” Colton moved out of the way for Quinn to shove the pole in the ground. “You have sex and leave. Unfortunately, the city isn’t far away from our small town.”

Jake angled around and grabbed part of the pole to plunge down. “I think Mom has Tom geared up to talk to you. Just a heads-up.”

Quinn groaned. While he loved his stepfather and appreciated him becoming a father to Quinn and Jake when they were young, he didn’t need a fatherly talk about sex. “Tom has enough to worry about with Dawn.” The youngest of them all, little Dawn was plain wild…and in love with the wrong man. “We all have enough to worry about with Dawn.”

Colton shoveled dirt around the post. “Nah. The last time Hawk came home on leave, they didn’t even talk to each other. She’s over him.”

Quinn cut his eyes to Jake, who shrugged. “That would be excellent news.” Not that he didn’t like Hawk, because he did. They’d all grown up together and were good friends. But Hawk’s time in the military was wearing on him, and Dawn was way too young to get serious over a man. “What about you, Colton Henry Freeze?”

Colt grinned. “I’m not in love, don’t plan on being in love, and am ready to graduate and head home. In fact, I’m going to build over on the east side of the ranch, near the falls.”

Quinn yanked his leather glove off to rub his chin. “What about Melanie?”

Jake snorted. “Dumbass here hasn’t figured out Mel’s a girl.”

Colton tossed the post digger onto the truck bed. “Mel’s been my best friend since kindergarten. Of course, I know she’s a girl.”

“And?” Quinn asked.

“And nothin’.” Colton jumped to sit on the tailgate. “We’re friends. She’s dating some banker from Missoula. The guy wears three-piece suits. Three piece.” He shook his head.

Colt was a moron when it came to women. But, on the other hand, the place he wanted to build would be perfect for a ranch house. When their mom had married Tom, they’d had Colt and Dawn. When the Lodge boys were old enough to make the decision on their own, they’d combined the Lodge and Freeze acres into one sprawling ranch they all worked. Any profits were split evenly. His father had been dead for many years, but Quinn was sure he’d be pleased with how things had turned out. “How is Melanie’s grandpop doing?”

Colton shook his head. “Not good. The doctors say he’s terminal.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Quinn ripped off his hat to wipe his forehead.

Jake reached for a thermos and poured coffee for all three of them. “Somehow we got off the subject of Casanova here and Juliet Montgomery.”

“We’re finished with that subject.” Quinn took a deep drink of the unloaded brew and grimaced. Another seven months until Sophie’s baby was born, damn it. Jake had switched them all to decaf because he was too lazy to make two pots.

“I know why you either leave or kick a woman out of your bed, Quinn,” Jake said quietly.

Of course he knew why. They’d gotten drunk, really drunk, about two years ago and told each other everything they’d seen, everything they’d done, while in service for their country. Then they’d never spoken about it again, which worked just fine for Quinn.

“So do I,” Colton murmured.

Quinn narrowed his focus on his brother. “You don’t.”

Colt shrugged. “I may not know the details, but I know you’ve struggled with PTSD. That’s the only thing that would make you kick Juliet Montgomery out of your bed. Period.”