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“Good night,” I rasped.
The shape of my words moved against her lips before I gave her a lingering kiss. For a split second, I thought she might pull away, but she didn’t. She let out this soft little sigh and the barest hint of a whimper in the back of her throat as her mouth opened underneath mine.
A few minutes later, I was driving home, my cock aching. What the fuck did I just do?
ChapterThirteen
QUINN
The only reason I got any sleep was because I gave in and had a moment with my trusty vibrator. I should’ve already been sated since I’d had an explosive climax with Kenan. Yet then he’d gone and kissed me before he left, leaving my body in a jumble of restless need.
As it was, I’d clocked, at best, four hours of sleep when I finally dragged myself out of bed. It wasn’t like I would be able to sleep late anyway. The moment my eyes had opened at five o’clock, I jolted wide awake.
I raced through a shower, studying myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair. I couldn’t imagine Kenan really being attracted to me. Although I knew I wasn’t the girl I’d been in high school with an unfortunate burst of acne during my sophomore year, I wasn’t a stunner by any stretch. I had light brown hair, nothing special. I couldn’t wear contacts because I had astigmatism in both eyes, so glasses it was. Although I did like to have a little fun with those. Today, I went with a bright-blue cat-shaped pair.
I spun away from the mirror. I didn’t have time to dwell on how I looked. I glanced out the window to see a little bit of snow had fallen the night before. I slipped into a pair of fitted jeans and leather boots with practical soles and pulled on a fitted turtleneck sweater. I needed something to shield me somehow.
When I parked behind the office for Fireweed Industries, I decided to walk over to Spill the Beans Café for some coffee. I needed the caffeine and could use a few minutes of conversation to knock me out of the hamster wheel of my thoughts this morning. Kissing Kenan once had been a blunder. Twice had been an even bigger slipup. Three times? Epically big mistake.
Now, I knew what it felt like to let go with him.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered under my breath as I walked down the sidewalk.
“What in the world are you calling stupid?” a voice asked sharply.
Glancing up, I saw Phyllis Lane. Phyllis owned Spill the Beans Café with her best friend, Hazel, who was also curious and opinionated.
I blinked and pasted a smile on my face. “Just the slippery sidewalk,” I lied as I gestured toward the thin layer of snow coating the sidewalk.
Only one street in Fireweed Harbor had a sidewalk, and we were on it. Itwasslick.
As her perceptive blue gaze studied me, I sensed she knew I was lying, but she was kind enough to let it slide. She nodded. “That stupid sidewalk.” Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at me. “Where are you headed?”
“Your coffee shop. You?”
She glanced behind her, her gaze bemused when she turned back to me. “Well, I live there, so I was just coming out.” She thumbed over her shoulder.
I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. “So you do. Shall we walk together then?”
Her smile widened. “Absolutely.”
I looked around as we walked down the street. I loved my little hometown. I’d felt lucky to grow up in Fireweed Harbor. The picturesque town was tucked into the base of the mountains beside the sparkling waters of the Inside Passage. Not many places in the world had such startling and breathtaking beauty. With the mountains reaching high into the sky, a glacier glowing blue under the early morning sunshine, evergreens flanking the mountains, and snow topping off the tall peaks and the ocean right there, glittering from where the sun shimmered on the surface, it was postcard-worthy. Even though the town was small, and sometimes it felt like everyone knew everyone’s business, it was home for me.
Some people grew up wanting to spread their wings and fly away. I wanted to see more than this pretty corner of Southeast Alaska, but I always knew I wanted to return home. I’d gone to college in Juneau and law school in the lower 48, the term Alaskans used to describe the continental United States.
When my parents asked if I wanted to take a position in the family law firm, the eventual answer had been a foregone conclusion. Yet I’d wanted to sharpen my skills elsewhere at first. I worked in two different law firms in Seattle before coming home. Sometimes I thought I had been just biding my time, but I genuinely felt it had been important to see how things were outside the small world of Fireweed Harbor. Although Fireweed Industries was a major corporation, it was family-owned. My family’s law firm had handled legal work for them for decades.
“Quinn?” Phyllis’s voice kicked me off my meandering train of thought about Fireweed Harbor and my law career, bringing me back to this very moment.
She nudged me with her elbow. When I glanced down, her sharp gaze met mine. “Your thoughts sure can wander. We’re here.”
I’d almost walked by. Spill the Beans Café was immediately to our left. The cute little sign with its shimmery pink lettering and coffee beans spilled underneath already had Christmas lights encircling it.
Phyllis slipped her hand through my elbow, tugging me off the sidewalk onto the walkway. “How did we do?” she asked.
“With what?”
She stopped and gestured with her hand toward two blue spruce trees in the small lawn in front of the café, decorated with holiday lights and red bows.
