it near to the brim, trying to ignore the heat radiating up her spine at the idea of being included in this man’s circle of trust.
“You take anything in that?” He eyed her cup.
She wastempted to answer straight black, same as him. It sounded sexier for some reason. Mysterious. She wanted to be that woman who drank her coffee thick and dark while staring into space with a hint of world weariness. But she opted for the unsexy truth. “Milk and one sugar. Okay, two sugars.”
“Milk in the fridge and as for sugar . . .” He frowned slightly. “I don’t have any.”
“You are lackingin sweetness, Mr. Kane.” She opened the fridge door.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Her answering giggle faded. Perched on the fridge shelves were half a dozen eggs, some questionable-looking deli meat, a couple of oranges, a six-pack of dark beer, and an empty bottle of hot sauce. That was it. “I thought you said your brothers were looking after you? Is this all you have to eat?”
“That’s because today is usually . . .” A loud knock cut him off. “Shopping Thursday.”
“Hello? Good morning.” The front door opened. “You up, brother?”
The sheriff. Quinn wished she could fall through the floorboards.
“In here,” Wilder responded, straightening his flannel collar.
She wondered if she shared the same “busted” expression and took a big gulp of coffee, searing hertongue. Last Sawyer knew, she was off to collect her dad, not pay his big brother an overnight visit.
Someone pass the awkward sauce.
Sawyer entered the kitchen, removing his Stetson. “That your truck out there?” he asked, as if it wasn’t at all strange to find her here for this unexpected breakfast date.
She gave a hesitant nod, tugging down the corner of her shirt and trying to thinkof a suitable explanatory icebreaker.
“Looks like it has itself one hell of a tree problem,” he deadpanned.
She allowed herself one small, relieved sigh. He wasn’t going to demand any excuses. Apparently the crushed truck served as perfectly adequate explanation for her presence.
“You’ll need a tow out of here. The weather is clearer than I expected and road crews are making good progresswith the plows. I’ll put in a call to Don’s Auto and have those boys out here in a flash. They are good people, family owned, and won’t give you a runaround on the repair costs.”
“That would be great, thank you.” A good, honest mechanic was worth their weight in gold.
That’s when she noticed how neither brother was looking in her direction. Instead, they stared each other down, engagedin a drawn out and silent conversation.
Finally, Sawyer glanced back over, clearing his throat. “And your dad? He’s—”
“Fine,” she answered quickly. “Better than fine. He slept like a log, which is a funny expression when you think about it because logs don’t sleep, right? They roll which is . . .”
It was too ridiculously easy to babble when two identical pairs of bright green eyesfocused on her, eyes set in two vastly different faces. Sawyer was handsome, no denying it, with those classic good looks that never go out of style. Wilder wasn’t a style at all, more of a statement, bold and a little savage. He pushed his chair back. “I’m going to go wash up,” he announced, rising.
Sawyer turned and instinctively reached out a steadying hand. One Wilder clearly didn’t need.
Quinn had a flash of understanding. People wanted to help Wilder but he resisted charity. He was a proud man. And strong. He didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves, but he also shouldn’t be allowed to rampage around acting rude, sullen, and downright hostile.
Except, when was the last time she graciously accepted assistance? Oh God, she was some sort of help rejector too. People keptasking what she or Dad needed and she’d just smile and chirp, “I’ve got it handled.”
She couldn’t ignore the blatant curiosity in Sawyer’s gaze once Wilder
“You take anything in that?” He eyed her cup.
She wastempted to answer straight black, same as him. It sounded sexier for some reason. Mysterious. She wanted to be that woman who drank her coffee thick and dark while staring into space with a hint of world weariness. But she opted for the unsexy truth. “Milk and one sugar. Okay, two sugars.”
“Milk in the fridge and as for sugar . . .” He frowned slightly. “I don’t have any.”
“You are lackingin sweetness, Mr. Kane.” She opened the fridge door.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Her answering giggle faded. Perched on the fridge shelves were half a dozen eggs, some questionable-looking deli meat, a couple of oranges, a six-pack of dark beer, and an empty bottle of hot sauce. That was it. “I thought you said your brothers were looking after you? Is this all you have to eat?”
“That’s because today is usually . . .” A loud knock cut him off. “Shopping Thursday.”
“Hello? Good morning.” The front door opened. “You up, brother?”
The sheriff. Quinn wished she could fall through the floorboards.
“In here,” Wilder responded, straightening his flannel collar.
She wondered if she shared the same “busted” expression and took a big gulp of coffee, searing hertongue. Last Sawyer knew, she was off to collect her dad, not pay his big brother an overnight visit.
Someone pass the awkward sauce.
Sawyer entered the kitchen, removing his Stetson. “That your truck out there?” he asked, as if it wasn’t at all strange to find her here for this unexpected breakfast date.
She gave a hesitant nod, tugging down the corner of her shirt and trying to thinkof a suitable explanatory icebreaker.
“Looks like it has itself one hell of a tree problem,” he deadpanned.
She allowed herself one small, relieved sigh. He wasn’t going to demand any excuses. Apparently the crushed truck served as perfectly adequate explanation for her presence.
“You’ll need a tow out of here. The weather is clearer than I expected and road crews are making good progresswith the plows. I’ll put in a call to Don’s Auto and have those boys out here in a flash. They are good people, family owned, and won’t give you a runaround on the repair costs.”
“That would be great, thank you.” A good, honest mechanic was worth their weight in gold.
That’s when she noticed how neither brother was looking in her direction. Instead, they stared each other down, engagedin a drawn out and silent conversation.
Finally, Sawyer glanced back over, clearing his throat. “And your dad? He’s—”
“Fine,” she answered quickly. “Better than fine. He slept like a log, which is a funny expression when you think about it because logs don’t sleep, right? They roll which is . . .”
It was too ridiculously easy to babble when two identical pairs of bright green eyesfocused on her, eyes set in two vastly different faces. Sawyer was handsome, no denying it, with those classic good looks that never go out of style. Wilder wasn’t a style at all, more of a statement, bold and a little savage. He pushed his chair back. “I’m going to go wash up,” he announced, rising.
Sawyer turned and instinctively reached out a steadying hand. One Wilder clearly didn’t need.
Quinn had a flash of understanding. People wanted to help Wilder but he resisted charity. He was a proud man. And strong. He didn’t need to be treated with kid gloves, but he also shouldn’t be allowed to rampage around acting rude, sullen, and downright hostile.
Except, when was the last time she graciously accepted assistance? Oh God, she was some sort of help rejector too. People keptasking what she or Dad needed and she’d just smile and chirp, “I’ve got it handled.”
She couldn’t ignore the blatant curiosity in Sawyer’s gaze once Wilder
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