Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) (6 page)

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Fucker left his business card on the pillow. No goodbye, no nothing. Not cool. I mean, who does that shit?” She took another slug of the drink. “I can hear you frowning.”

Tilly laughed. “How do you always know what I’m doing?”

“You’re my best friend. Plus, you pretty much wear every emotion on your sleeve, Till.”

“I do not!”

“You do.”

As she opened her front door to retrieve the newspaper, Quinn heard Tilly huff. “Well, I can’t help it if I care. And you didn’t check the peephole before opening the door, did you?”

“Nope.” Quinn closed the door then went to the bar and climbed up on one of the stools pulling her knee up to her chest. “Never do. Why would I? Not like anyone can get into my apartment building except those I’ve told the code.”

“I guess living with John has made me hyperaware of every danger there is now. Oh, and that little incident with Graham Hightower.”

Quinn was more than proud that Tilly could say the name of her kidnapper and would’ve-been murderer, which she knew sounded strange that she felt that way about her best friend, but it’d taken a lot of talking to get Tilly to face everything. And she knew now that she’d almost healed from the incident.

“I know, honey. That fucker’s where he needs to be now. Six feet under and burning in hell.”

“Yeah.”

Quickly changing the subject, Quinn asked, “So you’re at the dog show now? Are there any hot dog guys there?”

“You’re hungry for a hot dog at 10 a.m.?”

“No, you dork!” Quinn laughed. “I meant hot dog owners. Handsome guys who have a dog. Jesus.”

“Oh!” Tilly giggled. “Yeah, there are a few. One guy has the cutest Labradinger!”

“So that’s what they’re calling it these days,” Quinn quipped.

Tilly cracked up. “No, silly, it’s a cross between a Lab and an English Springer Spaniel.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

“But, yeah, he looks a lot like Tom Hardy. Which means hot!”

“I could go for a Tom Hardy lookalike.”

“As in Tom Hardy in
Warrior
.”

“Be still my fucking heart,” Quinn remarked indifferently as she skimmed the paper. She’d had enough of good-looking douchebags in the last twenty-four hours, thank you very much. Not that Tom was a douchebag. No, strike that. He was hot so he probably was.

“You’re in a mood today.”

Quinn blew out a breath. “It’s morning, Till. You know I hate mornings.”

“Yeah, but I can tell you’re…a little out of sorts,” Tilly pushed.

“Look. I got laid. It was great. Then I got a business card. Not so great. So, yeah, not in the greatest of moods but I’ll live.” She’d talk with Tilly later about her insecurities when it came to Gunner, just not now when it was…morning. Ergh.

“If it helps, from what John says, Gunner’s not dated anyone seriously in a couple years.”

“Honey, I’m good. I’m done talking about it.”

“Okay. Oh! I ordered the cutest plates for the party next Saturday! They have pictures of John and me from our wedding. They’re
so
cute!”

“Of course they are. You took the photos,” Quinn muttered flipping the paper and stopping to look at an article about the dog show Tilly was shooting. Her leg dropped and she sat up straight. “This thing lasts until eleven tonight!”

Tilly laughed. “I only have to stay until about eight. I thought we could stop by Zag’s after and have a drink.”

“Okay. I can do that. But that’ll fulfill my dog watching quota for the next three years.”

“See you at six,” Tilly said with a giggle before hanging up.

“That dog’s dick is
huge
!” Quinn whispered loudly making Tilly hush her. Quinn looked at her. “What? It is! And you know it! I’ve slept with guys who were smaller! Damn!”

Tilly shook her head, looking apologetically at a few bystanders as she moved to get a better shot.

“God. I’ll bet the men here have some serious penis envy going on. I know I would if I were a guy,” Quinn added.

Tilly stopped with a sigh then looked at her watch. “Let’s go.”

“Goody!” Quinn answered, bringing her palms up for baby claps.

“God, you’re like a large toddler,” Tilly declared wryly as she packed her camera into its bag then they made their way from the show floor. She turned back to look at her petite friend. “Well, a regular-sized toddler, but a toddler nonetheless.”

Quinn stuck out her tongue and chuckled knowing she’d gotten her way by behaving like a brat but whatever. “At least I don’t have to look at dogs or their freaking wangs any longer,” she mumbled.

“Only you could make a dog show sexual,” Tilly chided as she hailed a cab.

“But did you see the size of that one dog’s—”

“Shut it!” Tilly cut her off, laughing.

“Talk about one canine cock and look what it gets you…”

“You did not!”

Quinn nodded, her shoulders coming up, her face wearing an
Oops!
expression.

“You challenged him in a…in some kind of a…in some weird
sex duel
?” Tilly stared at her, wine glass stopped halfway from her lips.

All Quinn could do was nod sheepishly.

“What’s going on with you?”

Now Quinn blew out a breath. “I like him. As in,
really
like him. So in my mind, it all made sense. It was like my heart was screaming at my cranium to protect it and that was the result.”

“A sexual power struggle?”

Another nod.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

Tilly finished what was left in her glass then held it up to the waitress who was passing by signaling she needed another as Quinn did the same.

“What?” Quinn finally asked after Tilly had stared at her for a few moments.

“It’s gonna piss you off, but I’m just gonna be blunt.”

“Do your worst,” Quinn muttered intercepting her glass from the waitress whose intention had been to set it on the table. “Hang on.” Quinn took a big gulp. “Okay, go.”

Tilly tilted her head to the side as she began. “I’ve watched you date for going on ten years now, and with the exception of Jackson, you always pick men who are…I can’t think of the word.” She took a drink. “Pushovers, maybe?”

“Easily dominated?” Quinn helped with a chuckle.

“Yes! That’s it!” Tilly narrowed her eyes at her. “I think you do that for a reason.”

Quinn shrugged.

“You do it on purpose.” More eye narrowing. “You’re protecting yourself.”

“So?” Quinn watched a handsome man at another table stand then get down on one knee at the side of the woman he was with, proposing. “Look. That guy’s shoe was untied.”

Tilly looked where Quinn had nodded and gasped. “Oh, my gosh! That’s so sweet!”

“Yeah, nothing like getting your woman plastered before asking the biggest question of her life.”

Looking back at her, Tilly snorted. “You’re a mess! It’s sweet!” She took a drink. “My point is, what you’ve been doing is self-sabotage. And I’m beginning to think that you’re…yeah, you’re scared!”

Quinn frowned. “I wouldn’t say scared, per se. I’d say more like unwilling to be controlled.”

Tilly frowned back at her. “Just because you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean you’re being controlled.”

“No? If John called right now and said he needed you, you’d leave. Am I right?”

“If I were with John right now and
you
called and said you needed me, I’d leave. That says nothing.”

“Okay, if John told you he didn’t want you going somewhere, you’d…obey him.”

“I wouldn’t
obey
him. I’d listen to his reasoning and if it was valid, I’d do what he asked. Same as for anyone who made a credible statement. Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know.” Quinn sighed.

“I know your parents have an amazing relationship. And they’re best friends. So what’s happened that you’re in this mindset?”

Quinn pushed a lock of her curly red hair behind her ear. “I think maybe it was because of my Aunt Constance. She was my favorite, but when I was ten or so, she came to visit one Christmas and brought the man she was seeing and it was weird. She’d always been such a free spirit but with this guy, it was like he’d tamed her and I hated that.” Tilly looked at her like she’d seen a fucking lightbulb go on over her head. “I know. I’m a psychologist. I get it.” She rolled her eyes.

Tilly laughed. “Your aunt was in love, Quinn. That’s all it was.”

“Yeah, yeah. But it was traumatizing for some damned reason.”

“You don’t have to change for anyone, you know that, right?”

“I know.”

“And back to your dating these guys who can be bossed around. I think Gunner scares you because you know that’s not gonna happen.” She raised an eyebrow. “If there’s anything I’ve learned, these CEP guys are all alphas.”

Quinn snorted out a laugh. “I’m definitely not a beta.”

Tilly laughed with her. “No, that you’re definitely not.”

“It’ll never work. We’re both too obstinate.”

Tilly shrugged. “It can work.”

“And I don’t wanna be controlled,” Quinn now said soberly. “Especially not in the bedroom.”

“Oh, honey, let me just say this, although it might seem as if John’s in control in the bedroom, he tells me all the time that I am, and I love that.” At Quinn’s look of consternation, she explained. “He tells me it’s all for me, and that’s a head rush. And you know what else? It’s, God, even more incredibly amazing because after dealing with running the studio all day and being the boss for hours on end, when he takes me to bed, I like that he takes charge.”

“Damn, Till, have another glass. You’ve never talked this much about your sex life.” Now Tilly was embarrassed. “Aw! Look at you now, all blushy and shit!”

“Shut it,” Tilly said, holding her glass up yet again to the waitress as she passed by.

“Thatta girl,” Quinn said with a giggle.

But Quinn loved that her best friend had that with her husband.

She just wished she could find it for herself.

Chapter 6

“I ever get another job like that, shoot me,” Gunner grumbled to Brock.

It was Thursday night and he and Brock Wilse, another CEP member, Chase’s old roommate who’d gone pre-med but hadn’t done his internship yet, were sitting in Brock’s ‘66 Mustang in the parking lot of a sleazy motel ready to take pictures of a supposedly cheating husband.

Brock laughed. “You were guarding a pageant queen. What’s so tough about that shit?”

“I’ll tell you what was tough. A three-hour luncheon and five-hour dinner surrounded by every New York City socialite there was. I’ve never heard so many women talking about purses and hats and shit. Fucking ridiculous. Then Ms. Carmichael wanted to engage me with her vast knowledge of Pilates, telling me I should join her in a class.”

“Dude. She’s hot. You should’ve gone for it.”

“Not my type. I like women who care what they look like, but this chick’s obsessed to the point where she had me standing in the lobby of the Colony Club holding three different cans of hairspray for her as she sprayed each fuckin’ piece of hair before she went inside.”

Brock barked out a laugh. “No pain, no gain.”

“Uh, yeah.” Gunner pointed to the room where their subject was leaving. “Look.” Holding up the camera he zoomed in to get several shots of the man then the woman coming out behind and stopped. “Wait. Isn’t this Mrs. Vanderbilt?” He held the camera toward Brock so he could see the digital image.

“Isn’t she the wife who fuckin’ hired us?”

“Yeah.”

They watched as the couple made out against a Mercedes for some time, Brock still clicking the camera, before the man got into the car and drove away. That’s when they noticed Mrs. Vanderbilt was walking their way.

“What the fuck?” Brock mumbled while rolling down his window.

“Hi, guys,” the woman said as she approached.

“Uh, hey,” Brock answered.

“Did you get some good pictures?” she asked.

“We did. But I’m confused,” Brock said.

She threw her head back and laughed. “That wasn’t my husband. I gave you the information and picture of my lover and you guys performed brilliantly! I’ll definitely be recommending CEP to all my girlfriends.” She chuckled as Gunner and Brock stared at her. “What’ll happen now is your secretary will mail these photos you got tonight to my husband.” At the guys’ confused glance she clarified. “Bastard’s been cheating on me for years, so I thought I’d give him a taste of his own medicine. That was his business partner who’s been embezzling from their company from day one. What better way to get back at Mark than this? I gave your secretary his office address, so when he gets the pictures tomorrow, Alex and I will be in Aruba and we can send him our own pics. Clever, huh?”