Beneath the Surface (12 page)

“How did you know the alarm went off?” Quinn asked.

“I have an alert on my phone that lets me know whenever the alarms are tripped inside the house. Shit. I thought . . .”

He didn’t finish his thought. Then again, she didn’t need him to. She’d been thinking the same thing—that she’d been found. Just the thought sent a shudder of fear racing through her heart. “I should go upstairs,” she said after a moment, rising from her seat. “I’ve got a lot of work to do. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

Asher’s scowl deepened at her dismissal. He looked like he was about to say something, then his gaze cut to his dad and he must have thought better of it. “I gotta get Jack put away,” he told Robert, turning to head back out. “Come on, Pops. We’ll get that hay unloaded.”

Was it just her, or was that a definite note of frustration in his voice? Ever since their fight the other day, she’d been working in the bedroom, avoiding him at all costs. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable, doing her research upstairs, but she’d put up with a backache over the unbearable tension that seemed to be a constant presence between them now.

CHAPTER

14

Q
uinn? Oh my gosh, I’ve been so worried! The FBI has been calling here. They’re looking for you.”

A chill ran through Quinn at her sister’s news. She shouldn’t be surprised to find out the FBI was looking for her. “I’m sure they are. What have you told them?”

“Nothing. That I haven’t seen you. They wanted to talk to Mom and Dad. I gave them their number and told them they were out of the country. I don’t know if they called or not, but I contacted them and told them you were safe and not to believe anything they said. My God, Quinn, I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me neither. It’s like I’m living a nightmare.”

“Is it safe to talk?”

“It’s safe. I’m on Asher’s phone.” It was good to hear Violet’s voice—so good, she was having trouble fighting the emotion swelling in her throat.

“Nikko said you were at Asher’s. How’s that going? Better than the wedding, I hope.”

“It’s going . . .” Three more days had passed with barely a word spoken between them.

“That good, huh?”

They seemed to have reached a stalemate. Despite their lack of conversation, it did nothing to ease the tension brewing between them. The air verily crackled with it whenever they were in the same room together. How long could she keep going on like this? Pretending like he didn’t exist when he was all she could think about?

“You might not know this, Vi, but I’m not always the easiest person to be around.”

Her sister busted out laughing. “You don’t say . . .”

“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?” she grouched, annoyed by the pang of guilt pricking her chest. Perhaps she should have stayed and talked with Asher, rather than walking away the night they’d come home from the bar. He’d tried to stop her, his tone full of regret, but old habits die hard. She’d been pissed, and Quinn had never been one to sit down and peaceably talk things out once her temper flared. She was more the shoot first and apologize later type. Vi was the levelheaded one in the family. Not her. Unfortunately, sometimes Asher reminded her a little too much of herself.

Would they still be at this impasse if she’s handled things differently? Probably not, but honestly, her feelings had been so raw and bruised. She’d been afraid she’d break down into a puddle of tears and the last thing she’d wanted was to cry in front of him again—twice was more than enough.

Since her conversation with Robert, she hadn’t been able to stop replaying his words in her mind. Did Asher really need her? More than likely, those were the hopeful ramblings from an old man who didn’t want to see his son become a hermit.

“I’m on your side, Quinn. Always. You know that.”

She did, and she loved her sister to death for it. “Listen, I called to see if a package has arrived there yet. I had it sent to your office before I left Haiti.”

“I haven’t received any package, but I can call you as soon as it arrives. Quinn, I’m worried about you. All this cloak-and-dagger stuff is really freaking me out.”

“Me too. But I’m safe here.” She left the “for now” part off her sentence. No reason to cause her sister any more stress.

“I know you didn’t hit it off with Asher at the wedding, but he’s a really good guy. You’ll see if you’d just give him a chance.”

Where the hell did that come from? What was with all the raving endorsements for Asher Tate? “A chance for what, Vi? Are you and Asher’s dad the new Chuck Woolery or something? I’m not here to make a love connection. I’m here to stay alive.”

“Asher’s dad?”

“Don’t ask . . .”

“All I’m saying is that not every guy is like Spencer. That’s all . . .”

Just the mention of her ex made her gut churn. “Yeah, sometimes they’re worse.”

“I know Spencer hurt you. Bailing on you like that was a douche bag move, but you can’t judge all guys by the actions of a few. Some of them are really great.”

“Look, Vi, I’m happy for you that you found Nikko, really I am. But not all of us get our happily ever after, you know? Sometimes Prince Charming is really just a frog.”

“And you think Asher is a frog?”

“No, I think he’s a toad that hides his warts really, really well.”

“Don’t we all?”

Ouch.
“You know I hate it when you’re always right,” she grumbled, exhaling a frustrated sigh.

“Well, I am a psychologist. I’d be a pretty shitty one if I were always wrong.”

Quinn laughed.

“He’s a war hero, you know . . .”

No, she didn’t. Actually, now that she thought about it, there wasn’t a lot she did know about Asher. The conversations they had never seemed to end well.

“Nikko said he was given the Medal of Honor for throwing himself on a bomb to save his recon team. It’s a miracle it didn’t go off. That’s the only reason he’s alive today.”

Great, now she really felt like shit . . .

“I’m only telling you this because I know you don’t trust easily, Quinn, and I want you to know you can depend on Asher. If he says he’ll keep you safe, he’ll do everything in his power to keep that promise.”

“Thanks, Vi. I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too, Quinn. I pray this is over soon.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll get that package to you right away.”

“Thanks, Vi. I owe you . . .” They ended the call just as the door downstairs slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, Quinn steeled her resolve. This was crazy. Six days was enough dancing around each other. She just needed to go talk to Asher, at least apologize for her part in making a bad situation worse. Then the ball would be in his court and she could stop tiptoeing around here, feeling like the tension festering between them was her fault. She was grateful to him for everything he was doing for her. She could at least extend the olive branch and tell him that.

Quinn closed Asher’s laptop and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. After days of searching for the connection between the US and the CGRN, she’d yet to yield any results that would link them together. She’d found figures and statistics in articles documenting the United States’ financial and food contributions to the CGRN, but nothing on the US providing any military aid. It didn’t make sense. She should have been able to find something. It wasn’t like she didn’t know how to do her research. She was a journalist and a damn good one. Bottom line, without her notes and interviews to look back on, she was just grasping at straws.

Quinn’s feet had just hit the top step when she heard voices downstairs and the snick of two beer bottles opening.

“Thanks for modifying that AR for me. I can’t wait to try it out.”

“No problem.”

She stopped on the stairs, not wanting to interrupt Asher if he had company, and would have headed back to her room if they hadn’t started talking about her.

“Your little houseguest still hanging around?”

She recognized the voice as Asher’s friend, the guy she’d met when she’d arrived. “Yeah, she’s here.”

Asher couldn’t have sounded any less enthused if he’d tried. And why did that hurt? She didn’t care what he thought of her. But even as she told herself the lie, it sat ill with her. The sad reality was she did care—too much, actually.

“How’s that working for you?”

His deep chuckle rang out, followed by Asher’s scoffing masculine snort.

“Shit, don’t even ask.”

“That good, huh? I don’t get it. If you’re not fucking her, then why is she here?”

Her stomach knotted at Jayce’s question. Wasn’t that what everyone would wonder? Why was she here? She strained to hear his response over the drumming of her pulse, praying all the while he wouldn’t say something to expose her secrets. She may trust Asher with her life, but his friend was another matter entirely.

“It’s a favor for Nikko. I’m helping her out with something. It’s no big deal.”

She exhaled a sigh of relief when Jayce didn’t press for more details.

“Maybe you just need a break for a little while. Don’t you have that barbecue thing at your parents’ house this afternoon? If you want, I’d be happy to hang out here and keep an eye on things.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate the offer. But I value our friendship way too much to do that to you.”

Jayce chuckled.

It wasn’t funny.

“It’s not a problem, man—honestly. How much trouble could she possibly be? If I can handle an army of Taliban insurgents trying to blow my head off, I think I can handle your little midge.”

Asher laughed—a throaty rumble that lit up her nerve endings. How could just the sound of his voice spark such a visceral response, it made her core ache? She had hoped her attraction to him would pass. If anything, it was getting worse, growing stronger by the day. Not even their avoidance of each other was working to temper the flame of desire Asher sparked inside her.

“You think so, huh? Well, you don’t know Quinn.”

“Can’t say I’d mind getting to know her a little better. She’s smokin’ hot.”

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

His response surprised her. It was sharp and immediate, all friendly warmth gone from his voice. Quinn could feel the chill frosting the air all the way up here. Gone was the camaraderie of two friends having a beer and shooting the shit. Asher’s ability to go from friendly to foreboding could give a person whiplash. Goose bumps prickled up her arms. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she heard possessiveness in that low warning growl, but it couldn’t be. He didn’t like her. He’d all but admitted as much to his friend thirty seconds ago.

“Take it easy, Tate,” Jayce shot back, a warning with equal menace. “You’re getting kinda testy for a guy who has no claim on that woman. Which means you’re either lying to me and you’re fucking her, or you’re lying to yourself and you want to be.”

Her breath stalled in her lungs as she waited to hear Asher’s response.

“Or there’s the third option. She’s too damn good for you.”

Silence.

Jayce busted out laughing—a deep, throaty sound that echoed from the kitchen. Quinn wasn’t sure what he found so funny, because she didn’t think Asher was joking.

“Yeah, you definitely want to fuck her,” his friend ribbed.

“About as much as I want to fuck a porcupine.”

His friend broke into laughter again. Quinn turned and headed back to her room. She’d heard enough. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away, embarrassment and humiliation burning in her chest. He thought he knew her so well. Thought he was so funny making his little jokes. Did he think she wanted to be like this? Afraid to trust, afraid to let a guy get close to her again? She didn’t
want
to be alone. But after Spencer’s betrayal, she wasn’t sure she could open up her heart and trust another guy not to shatter it, especially one as flagrantly noncommittal as Asher. Sex to him was nothing but a sport, and she had no doubt he was the MVP. Quinn had zero interest in playing, not that she’d been invited.

But still, his snarky dismissal bruised her feelings. She hadn’t always been like this, guarded and closed off. There had once been a time she was sweet and trusting—and naïve. She’d believed in the power of true love, thought that life was all rainbows and butterflies. What a crock . . .

Reaching her room, she slammed the door behind her, cutting off their mocking laughter.

A soft rap of knuckles sounded on her door a little while later. Not looking up from the article she was reading, Quinn ignored the knock the first time, but could tell by its increasing persistence that Asher wasn’t going to leave.

“Come in.” She was careful to school her expression as the door opened. She grabbed the wadded-up tissue by her knee and stuffed it beneath her leg. She didn’t want him to know how much his words had hurt her.

Asher stood in the doorway, studying her for a moment.

She returned his stare with one of bored impassivity. “Something you want?” she inquired coolly. On his own admission, it sure as hell wasn’t her.

The sigh he exhaled seemed to be one searching for patience. “My family is having a barbecue this afternoon. I want you to come.”

“Me? No thanks. I think I’d rather stay here and comb my quills.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Embarrassment? Regret? Yeah, right . . . Asher Tate wasn’t a man who went around apologizing for anything.

“Heard that, did ya?”

“Yep . . .” she answered coolly, turning her attention back to the computer screen. Perhaps if she pretended he wasn’t there, he’d get the hint and go away.

“What did you expect me to tell him, Quinn?” The frustration in his voice got her attention. “You want me to tell him that you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met? That I’m falling for you?”

“Of course not. Don’t be a dick,” she scoffed, angry that he’d even joke about something so serious.

He chuffed a harsh bark of laughter. “Only you would call me a dick for giving you a compliment.”

“That’s because I know you don’t mean it.”

His brow arched in question but he didn’t dispute it.

“Look, I’m not asking you to lie. I’m just saying you don’t have to be so brutally honest all the time.”

“He’s not a good guy, Quinn. You don’t want Jayce interested in you, believe me.”