“Of course,” Bruce said, his kind gaze turning pained.
Once they reached Quinn’s apartment, Bruce turned to face her, looking worried. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”
There’s a loaded question, she thought. “Yeah,” she replied, and stepped from the car.
She felt his eyes on her as she unlocked the exterior door and slipped inside. How could he think of her as brave? More like stupid. She remembered Bo’s hand on her hip. Had he felt her reaction?
Only inside the empty apartment did she finally feel safe—from Bruce’s compassion, from Bo’s advances, from her recklessness.
The next day, Quinn was lounging on his patio, scrolling the news on his phone.
“What a nice surprise,” she said, sitting next to him.
“You look like hell,” he said. “How’d it go last night?”
A dull ache throbbed in the back of her brain. “You want to get out? I could use some fresh air.”
“Sure,” he said, his eyes lighting up.
Ten minutes later they were walking up the concrete ramp to cross the PCH, travel mugs of coffee in their hands.
A bright sun washed out the colors of the buildings and sky and an offshore breeze teased wisps of hair from her ponytail. The noise of the cars rushing by felt horrendously loud, but she knew the beach was only moments away.
“I drank too much last night,” she said as they waited.
“Liquid courage?”
Cassidy hugged herself. “It hasn’t happened in a long time.”
He twitched his lips. “And you’re kicking yourself for it?”
The light changed and they hurried across the street. Once they reached the sand, Cassidy slipped off her flip flops. Quinn did the same, and they strolled down the slope to the broad beach, the breeze strengthening with each step. In the distance, a handful of surfers dotted the lineup, bobbing like a pack of black birds over the swells. Broken waves sent pulses of white foam over the sand.
“I can’t do it anymore, Quinn,” she said, walking to the band of firm sand left behind by the lowering tide. “Last night, I felt out of control.” She shook her head. “It felt like I was going back to that time, after Pete.”
“You’ve come a long way since then, Cass.”
Cassidy grimaced. “Maybe.” She remembered Bo’s teasing. You’re always saying maybe. You think too much.
Cassidy turned north, the cold, wet sand chilling her toes as she walked. A wave crashed, sending a thin curtain of water racing for her feet. “I’m scared because a part of me liked his attention,” she said in a rush.
“Why wouldn’t you? Don’t we all like to feel wanted?” He stopped and faced her.
“Not by someone like him,” Cassidy said.
“You stood your ground, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” she said, flipping a tiny pebble with her toe.
“So, this obviously has nothing to do with Bo.”
She tugged a stray hair from the edge of her mouth.
“It’s gotta feel nice to have attention from someone. That’s all this is.”
“What if I’m meant to be with someone like him?”
“What?” Quinn cried, startling a nearby gull that was foraging at the edge of the surf. “Cassidy, come on, don’t tell me you really believe that.”
“I don’t want to, but look at my track record.”
His eyes turned serious. “What track record? We’ve already been through Mel a hundred times. You couldn’t have known, Cass.”
Cassidy inhaled a slow breath. Quinn was right about Mel. She had worked through it, both with Quinn and with Jay. Her lack of intuition with Mel didn’t need to define her.
“And think about what you did to rescue Izzy. That took balls.”
Cassidy smiled.
Quinn started walking again.
“I sort of blew up at Bruce last night,” she said.
“You were with Bruce?”
“He picked me up at Legends.”
A pair of joggers passed them. One of them held a phone that blared rap music.
“Well, if you’re going to blow up at one of them, I’d pick him and not Special Agent Harris.”
Cassidy laughed. “Yeah.”
“Speaking of the lead dog herself, she thinks it’s time for me to shake the tree a little bit.”
“Last night, Bo complained about you being stubborn. He also said something about doing him favors that he’d pay you for.”
Quinn sipped his coffee. “That’s what he hinted at with me, too. I think the linen thing is how he’ll deliver money.”
“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” She bent down to pick up a perfectly round, black rock, examining it for a moment before skipping it on the water. “He got the supply chain up and running, now he’s itching to use it.”
“Special Agent Harris thinks he’ll proposition me soon. Maybe even today.”
“Do you think Bo’s involved in what they do to those kids?”
Quinn took a moment to answer. “Sounds like he helps get the shipment out of the port. But maybe he doesn’t know what’s inside the cans.”
The coffee in her empty stomach churned. “It’s so horrible.”
“That’s why what we’re doing is so important.” He tugged her hand to stop her. “Can you stick this out for just a little bit longer?”
The fear and uncertainty rose up inside her. “I’m not going on any more dates with him.”
“Then let’s hope they can get him before he asks.”
“Meanwhile, will you help me with something?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Sure.”
And hour and a half later they were wandering the rows and rows of shiny, new cars beneath the shadow of the giant car dealership building.
“Why buy something here?” Quinn asked. “That means you’ll have to drive it all the way back to Seattle.”
“But this way I can leave whenever I want. I’ve changed my flight once already. I think the airlines are going to blacklist me soon.”
“SUV? Sedan?”
She gave him a questioning look. “Sedan?”
He gave her an exaggerated shrug. “Someday you might want room for more than one passenger.”
“Like when?” she asked, baffled.
He flashed the palms of his hands in a “forgive me” gesture. “Never mind.”
Cassidy shook off her confusion. “Truck. It’s the best fit.”
“Even though your last one let you down?”
“I’m the one that let her down,” she said as wave of remorse washed through her. “I just kept wanting Pete
