Start Me Up (3 page)

“Oh…Hi!” she squeaked, and Quinn quickly let her go.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good. You know…the same.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her gray coveralls as a gust of wind blew up from behind her. Her curls bounced, tugged by the breeze, and her cheeks turned pinker as he watched.

“Well, you look great. Want a cup of coffee?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so. I’d better just get to work. I got those parts in last night.”

“Come on. Have coffee with me. I feel bad about last time.”

“What about last time?” she asked, though she walked into the cabin when he waved her on. With her hands in the pockets, Quinn noticed the way the baggy coveralls pulled tight across her ass. He was pretty sure he hadn’t seen her in anything but coveralls in the last five years. Maybe ten.

He edged past her to start up the small coffee machine he’d plugged into the generator line. When he spun back toward Lori, she was turning in a slow circle.

“Are you actually living here?”

He glanced toward the bed. “Sometimes.”

Her boots clomped against the scarred wood floor. Quinn looked from the steel-toed leather up to the delicate shape of her face and shook his head.

Lori frowned. “Why are you shaking your head at me?”

“Nothing. Yeah, I’ve been staying up here most of the summer.”

She cast another doubtful look around the tiny one-room cabin. “Where do you keep your suits?”

“Back at my place in Aspen. I head there every morning to shower and dress. The solar water heater isn’t particularly effective after a cold night up here.”

“I guess not! I can’t believe it’s so cold up here in the middle of August. It was nice in Tumble Creek.” She shuddered, eyeing the coffeemaker.

Quinn laughed and grabbed a mug to pour her the first cup.

She glanced out the window. “You must get a lot of bears up here.”

“Bears? I don’t know…”

She waved a hand. “They’re all around here, Quinn. So…what did you mean about being sorry for last time?”

“When you came by to look at the backhoe I was a bit absorbed in my work.”

“A bit,” she said with a grin.

“I didn’t even realize you were here until you were gone, then I felt like a complete idiot.”

Lori waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve known you long enough not to be offended. You’ve always been that way. What did your dad used to call you? Doctor Distraction?”

“Yeah.” Quinn grinned.

“But I am glad you emerged from your daze long enough to offer me coffee this time.” She raised her cup in thanks and then gulped half of it. “Nice. I’m almost warm enough to go back out in that wind.”

“Hold on.” Quinn knelt down to rummage through the wooden box he kept next to the counter and dug out a knit cap. He tugged it over her hair. “This will help,” he murmured, as he concentrated on tucking a dozen stray curls under the cap.

“Stop!” She tried to duck away. “I don’t like hats.”

“It’s cold.”

“The coffee is enough.” She finally evaded his hands and yanked the stocking cap off, then stood, straightening out her hair and glaring at him.

“And I’ve always thought you such a simple woman. Who knew you were quirky
and
irritable?”

Lori rolled her eyes and tossed back the last of the coffee. “I should be done in about forty-five minutes.”

“Wait. Don’t storm out.” He pasted on a mock serious look. “This is turning out even worse than last time. I’m sorry I tried to put a hat on you. I apologize. That was inappropriate and horrible. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Amusement immediately replaced the annoyance on her face, and Lori laughed. “I just don’t like hats, okay? Drop it.”

She’d always had a great smile. In the rare moments on the school bus when both of them hadn’t had their heads stuck in books, Quinn would sometimes hear her laugh and turn to see her brilliant, wide smile. Not often, but that only made the smiles seem more important. And now? Now she was just a mystery. Unknowable and completely self-contained.

But she still had that smile.

He realized just how glad he was to see her. “Thanks for coming up to fix my machine, Lori.”

“You’re welcome, Quinn,” she called sweetly as she stomped toward the door in her big boots. “Give me an hour. Then we can discuss my bonus.”

“More likely the latter,” she muttered, and forced herself to get to work.

“You say something?”

She jumped and banged an elbow on the angled hood. But Quinn didn’t notice. He was already back to staring down at his drafting table. “What are you working on?” Lori couldn’t help but ask.

He looked up, blinking as he always did when he surfaced for air.

She repeated the question.

“Oh, plans for the house.”

“But you’ve already started building.” She glanced toward the gray lines of concrete she could just make out at the edge of the meadow. “The foundation looks set.”

“Yeah, I’ve completed all the floor plans. Actually, I had everything done, but now I’m stumbling over the design details. I keep changing them.” He smiled in a self-deprecating way. “I do this every day for other people, but it’s much harder working on a house I plan to live in for decades. A brilliant new idea will come to me, then the next morning it’s clearly crap. I think I have a new sympathy for clients and their ever-evolving ideas.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” Lori looked around at the meadow and the trees and the blank expanse of sky suspended above the cliff. “You come here for inspiration then?”

His eyes lit up. “Exactly! The light, the color…shades and hues that change from minute to minute. I need to get the windows just right, the height and shape of them. The texture of the walls against the light. I need to know what the views will be in morning and afternoon and evening.” His hands gestured, and Lori greedily watched every arc, every twitch.

“That evening you were here,” he continued, “right after you left, the sun burst through the aspen, and I finally realized just the type of window I should place above the front door. The exact grade of stone to use on the fireplace where it rises up to the second floor…Shit, I’m sorry.”

Lori shook off the spell he’d cast with his bright eyes and deep voice. “What?”

“Sorry. I know I tend to go way past the boredom mark for most people. Not just computer engineers are nerds, I’m afraid.”

“No, I think it’s amazing! You look like you’re in love.”

“Oh.” He actually blushed. This tall, successful man standing in front of a log cabin in a flannel shirt. He blushed.

“It’s sweet!” Lori assured him.

“Yeah, great.
Sweet.
The ultimate nerd compliment.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. When he scowled, she laughed harder. “Give it up, Quinn. I’m not going to feel sorry for you. Even if you could convince me you’re a nerd, you’re still hot and rich and successful. Poor baby.”

Shaking her head, she set to work on removing the old starter. Maybe he
was
nerdy in the strictest sense of the word, but she knew plenty of girls in her junior high class who’d thought him tantalizingly mysterious before he’d gone off to college. Bookish and distracted took on a whole different meaning when the boy in question was also gorgeous and kind.

“Hot?” she heard him ask, and looked up to see him leaning against the porch rail watching her.

“Huh?”

“Hot. You said I was hot.” He kept his mouth serious, but his hazel eyes danced with laughter.

This time Lori’s face heated. She waved her wrench in his general direction. “I was just stroking your ego.”

“Well, nice work. It felt good, your stroking.”

She growled in frustration. “Go away. I can’t work with you staring at me.”

“You mentioned a bonus earlier. What did you mean?”

Something playful and husky had entered his voice, confusing her. And the word
stroking
was still echoing through her limbs. “Nothing,” she blurted out. “I just hoped you’d let me borrow the backhoe sometime. When you’re done with it.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. Now could you please leave me alone?”

“But you’re in my office.” The aspens shook in the face of a gust, as if confirming his words.

“Fine. Look at your trees then. Not me.”

“I don’t want to be inhospitable.” She thought his gaze flicked down her body in a quick caress, which was silly since she was in her standard gray coveralls.

Suddenly, she really hated what she was wearing. It was Saturday. Maybe she should have arrived in a tank top and cutoff shorts with a plan to find many reasons to bend over while working. Of course, that would be before the frostbite set in.

Lori turned her back. “Fine then. Work and talk.”

“About what?”

Shrugging, she made sure to sound casual. “Where was the first place you went in Europe? You studied there, didn’t you? Tell me about it.”

After a long moment of silence, he did. His voice softened after a time, as if he were talking to himself, but Lori absorbed every word and stored it away for later.

Once the pin was perfectly even with all the others, Lori stepped back to take it in. Pins covered most of Europe and spread out from there. Blue and black and yellow and green. Each pin representing a story someone had told her or she’d read in a book. Each color a measure of her desire to visit that place. The ruby pins…Those cities would be her first stops.

Someday.

She’d planned her escape from the first day of sixth grade, when the new teacher had shown pictures of her summer trip: sixty days of backpacking through Europe. Lori had felt her heart swell with lust. That passion had grown, building upon itself with every book she checked out from the library, every documentary she watched on PBS. It had filled her up all the way through high school, leaving no room for interest in boys. All her concentration had gone into saving and studying to get into Boston College.

And she’d done it. She’d gotten into the international business program, and even scored a coveted scholarship to spend a semester at a university in the Netherlands for her sophomore year.

Lori’s heart spasmed, throwing sparks of pain against the walls of her chest.

Her dad had been so proud, refusing to even admit to a hint of loneliness during the four months she’d been at college. And then—

“Jesus,” Lori cursed. Skulking down memory lane was one of her least favorite activities. She spun away from the map and hit the light switch, plunging her old bedroom into darkness. Before she’d made her way down to the first floor, the doorbell rang, and Lori sprinted the last few steps.

When she opened the door, Molly rushed in and pulled her into a hug. “You really want to go
shopping?
”

Lori pulled away and her gaze fell on the
Aspen Living
magazine she’d left on the couch. A pair of shoes she’d been lusting after for three days graced the back cover, not that she could afford them.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Molly looked from the magazine to Lori’s face and nodded solemnly. “All right then. Let’s go buy some shoes.”

“Okay. And…and a dress.”

Already turning toward the door, Molly froze to stare openmouthed at her. “My God. Are you serious? I thought you were all about jeans.”

“I was. But I’m turning over a new leaf. I think.”

“A new,
sexy
leaf! Considering how good you look in jeans, I think you’re about to rock this town. And I just saw the perfect dress for you last week. We are going to have
So. Much. Fun.
”

Lori couldn’t help but grin back at her. “Okay.”

“I made reservations at Peak for nine, so we’ve got a full four hours. Let’s do this.”

She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Once they were in Molly’s cherry-red SUV and on the road to Aspen, Molly gave her a searching look. “Soo…”

“What?”

Her friend shot her another meaningful glance, but Lori just shrugged blankly.

“So…” Molly said, “is this an ‘I’m every woman,’ Oprah kind of makeover? Or is it a ‘that guy is hot and I want to do him’ kind of makeover?”

Lori glanced down at her too-short nails, noticing that she hadn’t quite gotten the grease cleaned from one of them. She clenched them into fists. “Both maybe. I don’t know why, but I just feel like buying some heels. Looking like a girl.
And
I want to do someone.”

“Who?” Molly’s eyebrows had flown nearly up to her hairline. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ooo, did you see him at The Bar? The café? Is he one of the mountain bikers in town for the race? Maybe—”

“Whoa, there, paperback writer. I mean I don’t know
who
I want to do. Just someone. Someone tall and strong and cute.”
With nice hands,
something in her head added without her even considering it.

“Oh, my God!” her friend cried. Lori had a sudden, strangling fear that Molly was about to yell something about Quinn, but she didn’t. “Lori’s gonna get her groove on!” she squealed instead, just before she started singing “Super Freak” in a loud, off-key alto.

“All right. Okay. I want to ask you something serious. Ready?”

Molly pulled her mouth into a severe line and narrowed her eyes, though her nostrils still flared with amusement. “I’m ready.”

Tiny raindrops pattered against the windshield as they neared the summit, and Lori chose to watch those instead of her friend’s face. “Um…Those stories you write? Are they always…? Um…”

“Excellent? Why, yes, they are.”

“Shut up.” Lori drew a breath. Molly liked to crack jokes, but she was a good person and a great friend, and the only one Lori could even dream of talking to about these things. She set her shoulders and plowed ahead. “I’m asking if they’re always stories about things
you
like?”

Molly turned her narrowed eyes toward Lori. “Are you asking if I like S and M?”

“No! I mean…No, I don’t care about whether or not Ben ties you up and makes you call him Daddy.”

“Nice,” Molly snorted.

“I’m just wondering if you can write about things you’re
not
into. If you find some things exciting, even if you’d never actually do them.”

“Absolutely,” Molly answered quickly, making Lori wonder if she and her writer friends had these types of conversations all the time. Some of the tension left her shoulders.

“I’ve got a friend,” Molly went on, “Delilah Hughes. She writes stories about pretty heavy submission and bondage. Stuff I’m totally not into. But her books are beautifully done, charged with emotion and conflict. Very sexy. I love them. And Ben always appreciates it when I read them, if you know what I mean.”

Lori rolled her eyes. “I think I might.”

“But sometimes it’s not really a matter of what you’re into. It depends on who you’re with. There are—” Molly wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully “—
things
I’d do with Ben that I’d never do with anyone else.”

“Deer,” Lori called out, thankful for the opportunity to change the subject. She had the answer she wanted.

The car slowed to a crawl as Molly drove by the doe staring from the shoulder of the road. They both watched until it finally burst into flight and disappeared into the trees. Silence reigned while Molly concentrated on the road, but if the doe was part of a herd, the rest had stayed well hidden. Two minutes later, the mist cleared, and sunlight exploded around them.

“Hey, we’re out of the clouds!” Molly cheered, and she was right. They’d been thrust into a beautiful, sunny evening, and the air inside the truck warmed by fifteen degrees in the bright rays.

When Lori rolled down her window, the green scent of wet grass poured over her. She breathed deep.

“So what is it?” Molly asked, lowering her voice to a stage whisper. “Spanking?”

A gnat flew down Lori’s throat. Or else she was choking on mortification and horror. Coughing, she glared and shook her head.

“Oh, come on. Everyone likes to read about spanking. Or a three-way. Is it two men? Is that what you’re thinking about? I’ve never done that. You should do it.”

“No! No, no, no! I don’t think I want to try any of those things, I’m just…missing something.”

“Okay.” Molly relented, and reached out to pat her hand. “I get it. You’re restless and horny. Maybe you should go stay in Aspen for a whole weekend. Get a love nest at The Lodge. Pick up a cute guy. I’d come for moral support, but I think the Chief might object.”

“Definitely.”

“But you’ll think about it?”

Lori felt a little shiver of nervousness. “I don’t know. Let’s get through tonight, see how it feels.”

“Deal.” Her friend glanced away from the road to grin at her like a proud mama. “My little girl is all grown-up.”

“You’re embarrassing me, Mother.”

Molly let out one of her loud, boundless laughs, the kind that pulled everyone in whether they felt like laughing or not. Lori was no exception.

So she laughed into the wind, a weight rolling from her shoulders to bounce away into the forest. But without the weight, she felt a little hollow once she’d stopped laughing. Lori cleared her throat. “So Ben thinks someone might have killed my dad.”

The car jerked, hitting the soft shoulder for a brief moment that raised up clanging pebbles.
“What?”
Molly gasped.

“He stopped by the other day while you were at the store to tell me he was reopening the case.”

“What do you mean? He thinks someone came into your house and killed your dad?”

“No, he thinks someone purposefully bashed his skull in ten years ago. He didn’t tell you?”

“Oh, Jesus,” Molly breathed. The truck slowed considerably. “No, he didn’t tell me. You know what a stickler he is about confidentiality. But…why would he think your dad was killed?”

“There’s some evidence, but nothing concrete. I honestly don’t want to talk about it tonight, but I wanted to tell you. Just in case I have three martinis and start blubbering.”

“Oh, but, Lori, you’re—”

“No, seriously. No talking about it. I need a night out in the worst way. So let’s have fun. Show me a good time.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Molly watched her for a long moment, then turned determined eyes back to the road. “All right then. I have my mission.”