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He dropped his arm to give her half a hug—totally platonic, and nothing she really wanted. But she took the comfort all the same.
“You’re a good friend,” he said. “That’s the kind I think you are.”
Quinn straightened and studied him. Nick really was a looker—all dark hair and blue eyes and broad shoulders. Muscled arms from all the landscaping. Just enough freckles sprin-kled across those high cheekbones to make him look boyish and charming.
Then again, his twin brother had those same freckles, and there was nothing boyish and charming about him.
“Actually,” Nick said slowly, “it’s probably time I should tell you another secret—” He broke off, his voice hardening to steel.
“Damn it.”
Quinn followed his gaze. They were turning up his driveway, and a blond guy was making his way down the walk from their house. The guy looked pissed.
“Who’s that?” she said.
“Tyler Morgan. He’s an ass**le.” Nick threw the truck into park and hesitated there, glaring at the guy as he walked toward them.
Tyler’s expression was full of fury. He said something, but Quinn couldn’t hear him over the diesel engine with the windows closed.
Then Nick killed the engine just as Tyler turned his gaze on Quinn.
“—with your stupid, white trash girlfriend,” he finished.
Quinn froze. Oh no, he did not.
“Wait here,” said Nick.
No way was she waiting here. Quinn threw herself out of the truck. This Tyler guy was a lot bigger than he’d looked when she was sitting in the cab of the pickup, but he could be fifty feet tall and she wouldn’t give a crap.
“What did you just call me?” she demanded.
Nick appeared at her side. “Quinn, go in the house.”
Tyler sneered down at her—a shame, because he might be kind of attractive if he weren’t trying so hard to look like a prick. “You heard me. I called you a stupid—”
Quinn punched him.
She shocked the hell out of him, too. He was probably one of those jerks who thought girls roamed the earth for nothing more than his pleasure. But she’d been holding her own for years, and the punch knocked him back. She knew how to swing, and she sure as hell wasn’t holding back with this tool.
“At least trashy girls know how to hit.” She drew back a fist to hit him again.
Nick got hold of her. “Jesus, Quinn. Stop it.”
“That’s right,” said Tyler, his voice a little nasal. “I forgot you Merrick douche bags like to let your girls fight for you.”
“Get the hell out of here,” said Nick. He had a death grip on her arms, his hands full of tension. The air was suddenly ice cold.
“Let me go,” she said. “I want to make sure he can’t pass on his genes.”
“No worries, blondie. Seeing you is enough to turn me off forever.”
“Right back atcha, dickhead,” Quinn snapped.
Then Tyler stepped toward her, drawing back a fist. She sucked back into Nick.
But Tyler stopped there. He smirked. “Yeah, all you girls think you’re so tough, but then you can’t take—”
His words cut short like he ran out of breath. No puffs of steam escaped from his mouth, though hers and Nick’s were going a mile a minute. Tyler shook his head fiercely, and then put a hand to his throat.
