AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Okay, all joking aside…You said yourself that you want something more than what you’ve had before. That’s a lot to put on one man, especially a man who doesn’t get out much. So the least you can do is trust me on this. It’ll be better if you wait.”
“IfIwait?”
Stubborn girl. “We’re talking about you here. What you want. What you need.”
She stared him down as if she was searching for a sign of truth in his eyes. As the seconds passed, her face lost a bit of its frustration. “You really wanted to do it, too? Just now?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Her curls bounced with her nod. “Fine. I can wait then. How long?”
“Not fucking long. I’m no martyr.”
“Good.”
Apparently she wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, because Lori sealed the deal with a kiss that curled his toes and drew his fingers up into fists. The taste of her hit him again, as if it were the first time.
Quinn knew right then that he was about to have the best summer of his life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THIS WAS THE WORST DAYshe’d had in months. The worst day since her father died.
Lori tossed a disgusted glance toward the cuckoo clock her dad had hung in the garage. Nearly five o’clock.
She was relieved one of the mechanics had ripped the bird out long before. If it were still there, Lori would have picked up a sledgehammer as soon as it showed its ugly face. Unbelievable how a clock could take its sweet time ticking away the hours.
But she was almost to the end of the day now. In three minutes the broken perch would emerge from the door with a sick squeal of gears. Then Esteban would come by to pick up the keys of the tow truck for the night calls, Joe would pack up his things, and even Lori would be nearly free. Only one customer scheduled to pick up, and he would be here by five-thirty.
Not bothering to stifle her sigh, Lori wiped her arm across her forehead to catch the sweat before she turned back to the lug nuts of the left rear tire and pushed as hard as she could against the wrench.
She hated rotating tires above all else. It was boring work—and for her, heavy—and it didn’t satisfy her need to take something broken and make it purr again. Tire rotations were even more tedious than oil changes. At least with the oil, you could see the satisfying change from black to clear brown liquid.
When her hand slipped off the wrench and crashed against the wheel, she wasn’t the least bit surprised, not that it hurt any less just because it was expected. “Shit, shit, shit!” If only her last torque gun hadn’t burned itself out last week. She was going to have to scrape up the money for a new one. The men were grumbling, especially since she’d broken the news that she wasn’t planning to fix the hydraulic car lift that had given out in June.
Wussies.
“Lori,” Joe called over her shouting. “Chief Lawson’s on the phone.”
“Fuck!Tell him I’ll call him back.” Damn it. Ben had left a message on the machine earlier, asking her to get in touch. He’d sounded serious and official so, of course, Lori hadn’t called back. She didn’t plan on returning his call this time, either. Not today. Tomorrow maybe, when she wasn’t tired and furious and hurt.
Quinn had dropped her at her truck last night, given her another of those deep, searing kisses, and let her drive away. Fine. She’d reconciled herself to it. Waiting could be good, she could see that. A good hour of her night had been spent fantasizing about getting Quinn back between her thighs. The moment her alarm clock had blared to life, so had Lori’s sex drive. When would he call? When would he come over?
So, yes, she’d been tense before she’d ever rolled out of bed, but it had been a good tension. A deliciously tight anticipation that squeezed gently at her body. And then she’d made the mistake of retrieving the Aspen paper from her doorstep.
She got theTumble Creek Tribune,so why the hell did she subscribe to the Aspen paper, too? And why the hell had she opened up the society section?
Quinn Jennings, one of Aspen’s most eligible bachelors, shows his support for the arts by escorting Ms. Tessa Smith to the Aspen Music fund-raiser.
And there he was, pictured in unflinching black and white at that “previous obligation” he’d mentioned on Tuesday. It must have been a glamorous party. Sting was standing right next to him, and on Quinn’s other side, hand on his arm, was a woman apparently named Tessa Smith.
She was beautiful. Stunning. Blond and tall and lean. Model-thin except for a pair of giant round breasts squeezed high by the corset-style bodice of her pale dress. Hollywood white teeth. Thick black eyelashes. Long, elegant arms accented by the perfect bangle bracelets.
The same woman Lori had glimpsed at Quinn’s table last Saturday.
Oh, God. Lori felt nauseous just thinking about it. A comparison to last Monday’s gossip column in Tumble Creek’s paper just made it worse.
Our little Lori Love is a late bloomer. Word is that she was spotted in Aspen last week buying a very pretty dress with a female friend. What’s next? Perhaps some fluffy kittens painted on her purple tow truck?
