She let out a mirthless laugh. “On top of it, he hadn’t been anywhere in Europe for years. He’s not even Swedish—he’s as American as you or me. He’d been living in Seattle the whole time with his wife and kids! He led a double life, splitting his time between us under the pretext of traveling to Sweden for business. Not only did I feel like an utter fool, but I felt dirty. Ashamed. Like some cheap home wrecker. For fuck’s sake, she’s the mother of his children!”
The ridiculous thought that it was good they’d agreed on the new swear jar protocol blazed through Quinn’s mind.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you all this.” She dropped her head in her hands. The confession baffled him yet filled him with pride in one breathless sweep. “Gage doesn’t even know the guy was married. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that part, so I just said he had someone else. I can’t … I don’t want my brother to know.”
“Your secret’s safe,” he soothed. “I’m not telling him.”
She raised her head and zeroed beautiful, watery eyes on him. They had turned fern-green. “See, Sparky? Gage and I don’t tell each other everything.”
“I guess not,” he agreed.
She guzzled more beer, and some leaked out of her mouth and slid down her chest under her sweater. A laugh spurted from her.
The scene sent his mind wandering to places it shouldn’t. Wholly inappropriate places where she was naked, straddling him, or lying beneath him, wrapped around him, whispering that she wouldn’t tell her brother as Quinn buried himself deep inside her. His dick roused, suddenly eager to be surrounded in her wet heat. Jesus! Gotta be the drinks. Alcohol had a funny way of boosting sex to the top of his priority list. Couldn’t be because he was finding her more and more attractive—even without the booze.
In need of yet another distraction, he blurted, “Do you have a picture of him?” WTF?
She eyed him skeptically. He didn’t blame her. “You want to see a picture of Wolf?”
No. “Sure. Curiosity and all that.”
With a swipe at her eyes, she picked up her phone and scrolled until she landed on what she was looking for. The heartbreaking look on her face nearly undid him, sending desire into a free fall.
“This is us right after I moved to Seattle.” She handed him the phone.
Quinn took in the picture of a man with his arm around Sarah’s shoulders, and two things struck him at once: First, Wolf looked nothing like a biker dude. He was a tall, lean, forty-or-fifty-ish man who exuded confidence and poise—in the regal style of one of Sarah’s eighteenth-century dukes. In other words, Quinn’s opposite. Second, the Sarah in the picture looked way different than the Sarah seated across from him. Seattle Sarah wore a green dress that hit her mid-thigh and molded to her mouthwatering curvature without making her look like she was trying to show it off. On the contrary, she was the epitome of class and femininity, and the contrast to her badass self was remarkable—not that he didn’t find the badass Sarah attractive, but this Sarah was … Wow. Her long, dark hair curled in thick waves over her shoulders, and the smile on her face was dazzling. It conveyed pure joy while the man beside her, in stark comparison, looked as cold as a fjord. A pang of envy dug into Quinn. He found himself wishing he could put a smile of that wattage on her face.
“When did you cut your hair?” was all he could come up with.
“Couple months ago. I decided to cheer myself up while Wolf was … After he’d been away for a while. I cut it and did the pink for fun. He sort of freaked out over the change.” A little chuckle escaped her.
Quinn handed the phone back to her. “I’m guessing he wasn’t a fan of the nose stud either.”
She shook her head no. “He’s pretty straitlaced. Well, about some things.”
“Do you think he’ll come after you?”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. He lied, and I’m not going back. There’s nothing to build a relationship on when trust has been turned into rubble. Without trust, you’ve got no foundation, no support to hold up the structure.” Twiddling Archer’s ears, she glanced at Quinn. “I hope you don’t mind. I, uh … I’m not really in the mood for cribbage anymore. Think I’ll go to bed.”
“Yeah, of course.” He stood when she did, waving at their mess. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Thanks, Sparks.” She patted his arm in an affectionate move that surprised him even as it warmed him all over.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep them from pulling her against him. “You gonna be okay?”
Closing her eyes, she nodded. “Yep. I’ll be fine.”
As he watched her walk away, he admonished himself. They’d had a great day together—best time he could ever remember having simply hanging out with a woman—and he’d had to push, had to know about Wolf. What had compelled him to ask? Curiosity. Competitiveness. Whatever it was, he’d made her talk about her painful past, which had made her cry. Dumbass!
Sarah definitely had a softer side. She’d exposed it, and Quinn liked what he saw. Now all he wanted was to make everything better. But how? He’d never been in this situation—whatever this situation was. Despite Gage’s warnings, despite knowing better, Quinn couldn’t deny his growing fascination with Sarah. Was it the same kind of draw he felt for other women? In other words, was it only because he was a horny fucker? No. This was different. He’d never wanted to know everything about another woman before. And he couldn’t make heads or
