Dearborn Read online

“Yes,” I answered because I knew both were true. I ran a hand up his chest and found his skin to be warm under my touch. Another clue I’d missed. The doctor at the hospital had said his temperature was high, and I’d assumed he had a fever, possibly the beginnings of pneumonia since he’d been found out in the cold snow. Now, I knew he always ran warm, which was the normal thing for a shifter. “Were you sleepwalking again?”

  His hands stilled. “I must have been. I don’t remember leaving.” I could feel his confusion as he racked his brain trying to remember. “This happens a lot. Most nights since I’ve come back home if you want the truth. I have many nightmares. War stuff I can’t get out of my head. The Army shrink said they are PTSD flashbacks trying to escape my subconscious.”

  I kissed his shoulder to let him know I was listening but remained quiet in hopes he would finally open up to me in the quiet blackness of my room.

  “In most of the nightmares, I’m running away from something. Sometimes, I’m trying to find something.” He paused, melancholy and momentarily lost. “Sometimes, I’m looking for someone. But either way, I’m always running. I think that’s why I get up in the night. To search for what I lost back there.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, overcome by the pain living inside of him. I laid my head on his chest to be closer to it, hoping that my touch would relieve his discomfort as his did mine. He pulled me in tighter, nestling me against him, and I listened to his heartbeat slow.

  “I run. And run and run and run. And then when I wake up, I don’t know where I am or where I’ve been. It used to take me hours to find my way back home, but I’m gradually becoming more familiar with the land around here.”

  “Maybe you find comfort out there. I do. When I need to shut off the world around me because it becomes too much, that’s where I go too. When you wake up, do you remember any of it?” I asked, wondering specifically about tonight.

  “Some of it. I can remember my feet hitting the ground, but my head is all screwed up. It’s as if my feet know I’m in Indiana and know where to lead me, but my head still thinks I’m in Afghanistan. It feels like my instincts are fighting against my memories if that makes any sense.

  “It’s not until I’m fully awake again that I even realize what’s happening. And then I find myself naked in the middle of nowhere—sometimes standing in the pouring rain—and I have to find my way home.”

  “Naked? Every time?”

  “It’s the damnedest thing, Willow. No matter what I wear to bed, I always wake up naked. I’ve tried wearing layers of clothes to bed, but more times than not, I wake up naked. Sometimes, my clothes are in a pile on the floor in my room, but usually, I never see them again. I must have left half a closet in the woods before I finally gave up and started sleeping this way.”

  I held my breath while I processed what he’d just told me. Was it actually possible Quinn had no idea he was no longer in human form when he was running? Was it possible he didn’t know he was shifting? I was no psychologist, but I’d been Googling PTSD since he had told me he had it. From what I’d read, it seemed likely that PTSD was to blame for his nightmares. But was it also possible the PTSD was somehow masking the truth of who he was so he didn’t even know he was a shifter? It seemed impossible. He should have started shifting when he was around sixteen or seventeen, before he’d gone away to the war.

  “When did this start happening?” I asked.

  “The nightmares?”

  “No, the sleepwalking.”

  “Almost immediately after I got back to Woodland Creek.”

  “Did you have the nightmares before that?”

  “Well, yeah. Those started after …” His voice trailed off, and I closed my eyes to see the stream of undulating cobalt coloring his broken heart. My heart split open for him. He couldn’t even say it aloud. He’d never get past the nightmares until he could at least name the cause for them. It was something for us to work on after we figured out his other issue—an issue I now believed he didn’t even know he had.

  “But you didn’t sleepwalk before you came back to Woodland Creek? And you never woke up naked before that?” I didn’t like the feeling that questioning him gave me, as if I was putting him through the wringer, but we needed answers.

  “Not that I can remember. I’ve thought about leaving again. I feel cursed in this place. I thought if I ran away, I could maybe outrun all of this madness.”

  The thought of him leaving town was almost more than I could bear. “I don’t think it would help, Quinn, but why haven’t you tried?”

  “You.” His fingers, which had been tracing light circles on my back, paused. He tapped me twice. “Just you. I was all set to leave. I didn’t have a clue where I’d go, but I knew I needed to get away from here. I was planning to leave after I met the guys that first time at the diner. My bags were already packed, but seeing you again gave me a reason to stay.”

  “Really?” I asked, craning my head to look at him. His hands came around my waist, and he pulled me over on top of him so I was straddling him. I searched for his eyes in the darkness as his hands slipped down over the curve of my backside again.

  “I’d rather face my demons than leave you. I don’t even know what they are, but I’d rather face them than not have you in my life. I think a part of me always knew, if I came back to Woodland Creek, it would come down to this.”

  “Come down to what?” I asked, running my hands up his chest. My touch was light until I reached the slope of his shoulders where I reversed directions and raked my fingernails back down again.

  He groaned and shifted beneath me, realigning us in a most perfect way. “Fighting tooth and nail to hang onto my sanity so I could hold on to you.”

  I glanced at the clock and then leaned over so we were nearly nose-to-nose. “Trust me when I say this, Quinn. You’re not mad. And if you are, it’s exactly my kind of madness.” I brushed my nose against his nose and the tips of my nipples rubbed lightly against the dusting of hair on his chest, sending a spark straight to the throb between my legs. “And I want and need every part of you I’ve seen. I’m yours to keep.”

  He arched his hips, rubbing his hard length against my warm center. “I don’t deserve you, but I feel like we were made for each other. I think you were the force drawing me back to Woodland Creek. I just didn’t realize it at the time.”

  It was a wonderful thought even though I knew it wasn’t the case. “Enough talking for now. I need to get ready for work soon.” I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, begging him to use his for something else now.

  “And you want me to give you something to think about while you’re there?” he asked, nibbling on my upper lip.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  He rubbed his thumb in sweet slow circles over the spot sure to set me on fire and devoured my mouth in a kiss that nearly stripped me of my own sanity.

  I wanted to be mad together.

  FOUR HOURS LATER, QUINN WAS still the only thing on my mind.

  It could have been because of all the things he’d given me to think about that morning, but the more likely reason was my human disco ball was sitting at the counter, throwing Christmas-themed strobes all over the diner while he ate his breakfast. Les might be the target for the evergreen-colored daggers, but I was claiming the lusty red ones all for myself.

  “If you want me to stay out of your heads, then you both need to stop thinking so much,” Ryan growled at me through the window.

  I grinned guiltily even though his complaint served as a reminder I still hadn’t told Quinn about Ryan’s special talents. He was not going to like it when he found out that nothing was off-limits when we were both around. Between the two of us, neither his thoughts nor feelings were safe.

  “No way, Will. That’s my secret to tell.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh, please. Like you haven’t told Vanessa all of my secrets. Hang on tight or that high horse you’re on is going to buck you off.”

  “That’s different,” he said under
his breath. “She’s a two-natured, too.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. So is he.

  His eyes went wide. “What?”

  You know the monster buck everyone is talking about? I shot a glance over my shoulder at Quinn and then waggled my eyebrows at Ryan.

  “What the fuck. Are you kidding me?”

  I cocked my head and gave him a quick mental rundown of what I’d learned that morning. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I finished.

  “So do you really think he doesn’t know?” he asked.

  I’m positive he doesn’t.

  “Well, this has to be the most messed-up thing I’ve ever heard.” Ryan leaned forward so his round face filled the whole window. “I haven’t picked up a shifter vibe from him, which is a first for me.”

  Me either. I don’t get anything non-human off him at all.

  “So how are you going to tell him?”

  I shot another look over my shoulder at Quinn, who was finishing the last of his chocolate pie. I don’t know. He’s fragile.

  It was Ryan’s turn to roll his eyes. “Fragile? He’s a six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-twenty-five-pound trained assassin. And apparently he has a killer rack.” He paused to laugh at his own joke, but the smile fell from his face when he saw I wasn’t in the laughing mood. “Seriously, though, Willow. The sooner he finds out, the better. You’ve heard people talking about him. He’s not safe out there. Shit. He’s even hunted himself.”

  I nodded slowly as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t bear to think of what could happen to him if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Luckily, it seemed he only went out in the middle of the night so while there were other things to worry about in the woods, I wasn’t as concerned about hunters.

  “What about his parents?” Ryan asked.

  Maybe. But why did they keep this from him all of these years?

  Ryan’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “By the way, how did you manage to keep it from me all morning?” he asked.

  “I had other things on my mind, I guess.”

  He snorted. “I’ll say you did. Speaking of, you had better get back to lover boy. He just caught Les looking at your ass, and I think he’s about to take his head off.”

  I whirled around to find Quinn had turned the entire counter area into an inferno of crimson rage. “How’s my favorite customer?” I asked gliding over to him. I picked up the coffee pot and topped off his cup.

  He tore his eyes away from Les to meet mine. “Better now that you’re here. What are you and Ryan cooking up?”

  “Nothing. Wedding stuff.” I hated lying to him but didn’t have much other choice. I slid a second piece of pie in front of him to make up for it. “So what do you have planned for today?”

  He shot a warning glare in Les’ direction. “Looks like I’m sitting here all day.”

  “For the pie or so you can stalk Les?”

  “I’m not stalking Les. He’s stalking you.”

  I laughed. Having a man get crazy jealous over me was a new thing for me. I could see where it could be annoying if he took it too far, but so far, it seemed pretty harmless. “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to hang out talking to you,” I said, swirling my finger in the air and then pointing at him. “Besides, I’ve let him know where my interest lies.”

  “And where would that be?” My favorite lopsided smirk made an appearance.

  “After the way I rocked your world this morning, I can’t believe you have to even ask.”

  A retching sound came from the kitchen, causing Quinn to break into a full grin. “That guy has ears like a bat.”

  “Among other things.”

  Quinn’s eyebrows shot up and his expression turned wary. “Do I even want to know?”

  “No, but sharing is caring so I’ll fill you in this evening over dinner and a bottle of wine. That should give you sufficient time to prepare yourself.”

  “And stew,” he grumbled before shoving another forkful of pie in his mouth.

  “Hey, Quinn,” I said leaning forward on my elbows. There was no graceful segue into this conversation, so I jumped in with both feet. “You’ve told me about your mom, but I’ve never heard you mention your dad. Is he around here?”

  “My dad?” he asked surprised.

  “Yeah, I was thinking about Ryan and his problems with his family and Vanessa’s family, and I realized I don’t even know your parents.”

  His eyes softened. “You want to get to know my parents?”

  I could feel a blush creep up my face. “Well, yeah. I mean, no rush or anything. But … yeah … eventually, I would like to get to know your parents.”

  “I can take you over to meet my mom, but my dad’s not around here. I’ve never met him and don’t want to.” He said it matter-of–factly, without a trace of emotion, as if he’d had years to practice and perfect the line.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.” Though the subject didn’t seem to bother him, I still felt a pang of regret for bringing it up, especially under false pretenses.

  Quinn shrugged. “No worries. He was a visiting adjunct professor at the college who was only in town for a year. When he found out my mom was pregnant, he disappeared. He wasn’t interested in knowing me, so I’ve always felt the same way. It’s always been just the two of us. My mom did her best.”

  “Well, I’d love to meet her,” I said, leaning across the counter and kissing him on the cheek, “because I think she did a fine job.”

  “I’ll see if I can set up a dinner for the three of us. She’s been harassing me to meet you, too.”

  Hearing that made me very happy, though I had a feeling she was going to meet me before Quinn would get the chance to introduce us. I had a few questions for her.

  I pushed off the counter again. “I would really like that. So seriously, what are you going to do today? As much as I’d like for you to, you can’t hang out here all day. You’re too distracting.”

  He smiled. “Well, let’s see. I have a bathtub and a toilet to install, and I need to go pick up some paint, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

  I nodded at the window. “You better do it today. They’re predicting snow this afternoon.”

  He groaned. “Already?”

  “Tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Why do you look so excited about it?”

  “Because I can’t wait. There’s something so romantic about the first snow,” I said wistfully. “Cuddling on the couch with a blanket in front of the fire. A glass of wine. You. Maybe a game of strip Clue.”

  He laughed. “Well, you certainly know how to sell it. I better get going then. I guess I have more to do today than I thought.” He abruptly stood up and started digging through his pockets.

  “No way, buck-a-roo.” I walked the length of the counter and rounded the end to meet him on the other side. “Your money’s no good here anymore. My pie is free.”

  “But only for me, right? Nobody else gets the free pie.” He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “I will not share the pie.” His voice was husky next to my ear, his breath warm on my skin.

  I wrapped both arms around his waist and pressed my nose into his neck. Even freshly showered, I had to admit I loved his woodsy, musky scent more than a little. “Quinn Dearborn, are you saying you’d like to be my boyfriend?”

  “Well, you see. There’s this girl, and I kind of have eyes only for her.” I looked up and found his emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. “Turns out she has the best pie. I cannot get enough of her pie.”

  I slapped him on the chest. “You are trouble. Get out of here before something bad happens.”

  He kissed me with gusto. As if we were alone in my kitchen and not in in a diner full of people. When he pulled away, he smacked me lightly on the ass and winked. “Admit it. You love me just a little,” he said as he walked away.

  I watched him walk out the door and then grabbed the coffee pot from the counter so I’d
have a reason to run to the window. As I refilled a cup, I watched him walk across the yard to the house. He stood tall and proud again, shoulders back and head up.

  You have no idea, Quinn Dearborn. No idea.

  A gruff, archaic voice interrupted my thoughts. “Ain’t love grand?”

  “Mr. Hansen,” I said, nodding to the owner of the cup I’d absentmindedly filled. “How was your breakfast this morning?”

  “Funny. I don’t know since I haven’t gotten it yet.”

  I stared at him aghast. “Give me two minutes, Mr. Hansen.”

  I ran to the window. “Where’s Clive’s plate?”

  “Right here,” Ryan said, shoving it at me. “I know I’m breaking your rules and all, but I thought you should know Quinn’s buddies are all headed back out to the Reyburn land again this afternoon. Some stupid ‘first snow’ nonsense. Apparently, it’s a tradition or something to kill something on the first day of winter.”

  I grabbed the plate but dropped it on the ledge again when it burned my hand. I reached for a towel. “But it’s not the first day of winter.” Ryan shrugged. “Besides, he won’t go out there again.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Later,” I said, picking up the plate using the towel as a potholder. “We’ll talk about it later. Hansen’s pissed.”

  I set the plate down gently, careful not to dump it in his lap, so I didn’t have to buy him another meal. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hansen.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Since you apparently don’t work anymore anyway, why don’t you have a seat? We need to talk.”

  I looked around quickly, but the diner looked to be in pretty good shape. Les was making his rounds with the coffee pot again. I gestured to let him know I was going to sit down. He nodded before getting on with the business of making the customers happy. Quinn could object all he wanted about Les, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He was a hustler and good for business.

  Clive was talking almost before I had my butt in the seat. “I thought after our last talk I’d given you enough hints to send you scurrying, but I guess you’re not as quick as Janice gave you for.”