Wyatt: A steamy contemporary military romance (Project Arma Book 5) Read online

  He’d assured her he would do everything in his power to do just that. That’s why he was there right now, stopping the next crime.

  There was a time where Quinn wouldn’t have given up writing the story. The belief that all people should have access to all information had been firmly ingrained in her.

  Now, Quinn’s beliefs weren’t so black and white. Her opinion on the matter was changing. Maybe not everyone wanted to know about the world’s darkest and ugliest secrets. Maybe it was actually safer that they didn’t know.

  A lot of people just wanted to feel safe and were happy to leave that safety in the hands of people like Wyatt and his team.

  Closing her laptop, Quinn sat back. She could have done this in her apartment, but the place was quiet and empty. With Wyatt out of town, it just highlighted the fact that, apart from Mrs. Potter—and Mason when he returned—she really didn’t have anyone else here.

  By nature, Quinn was a social person. She liked to be talking. Interacting.

  Just then, she noticed two familiar faces stepping into the diner. Both women caught sight of her and immediately started weaving their way through the tables.

  “Hey, Quinn!” Evie smiled as she and Shylah stopped beside her table.

  “Hey! Fancy seeing you ladies here. How are you?”

  “Why hello! We’re good,” Shylah said. “You’d be surprised how often we come here when the boys are away. And every other place in town.”

  Evie nodded. “Although, I have no doubt someone is trailing us.”

  Quinn understood that. “I’m pretty sure Wyatt has one of the guys watching me. He thinks I don’t know, but I can just sense them.”

  Not just here and now. She sensed them constantly.

  Evie smiled. “The boys are very safety conscious. It’s nice to feel protected. Although, a bit of freedom at times is bliss.”

  Quinn didn’t think she was in any danger, but if someone wanted to trail her, they were more than welcome.

  Waving her arm, she signaled to the other seats. “Join me, please. Save me from my loneliness.”

  Shylah dropped into the seat opposite, while Evie sat beside her.

  “It’s nice to have another girl in the gang.” Shylah smiled.

  Evie nodded. “It is. And this girl gang needs coffee.”

  Oh yes. Quinn had already finished a cup, but more coffee always worked for her. “Woman, you are speaking my language.”

  When the waitress came to the table, all three women ordered large coffees. The waitress was quick, barely a couple minutes passing before they each had their drinks.

  “This is my third for the day,” Quinn admitted, for no reason other than to be open.

  A surprised expression crossed Shylah’s face. For a moment, Quinn thought she was about to receive judgment.

  “Snap! This is my third, too. Coffee is life.”

  Evie lifted a shoulder. “This is my second, but I think I deserve a place in the coffee addict club.”

  Yep. It was official. These were definitely her people.

  “We’ll give you a spot,” Shylah said, before eyeing the laptop in front of Quinn. “Working on something?”

  “The opposite, actually. Deleting something.”

  Evie’s forehead furrowed. “Something important?”

  Very important. But not something that she needed to write and publish to the masses. “You know what Eden, Luca, and Wyatt are doing right now, don’t you?”

  Both women looked unsure how to respond. As if they knew what the men were doing but weren’t sure if Quinn knew.

  “It’s okay. I know. I was actually working on a story about the break-ins before I learned about Wyatt. That’s why I’m deleting the file. He said he’s going to take care of it.”

  And Quinn was going to trust him.

  Both women looked relieved. They clearly hadn’t wanted to lie to her. Another tick to their names.

  “If there were ever people you wanted to ‘take care’ of a situation, it’s those guys,” Evie said warmly.

  Shylah lifted her coffee. “Heck yes. No one else comes close to their bad-assery.”

  A chuckle escaped Quinn. “Bad-assery. My brother would love that description.”

  “Oh, I keep forgetting you and Mason are siblings. What with you dating Wyatt and all. How silly of me.”

  They weren’t officially dating. They hadn’t put a label on their relationship. “We’re still fairly new.”

  Shylah waved her hand. “Semantics.”

  “You got a good one.” Evie leaned closer. “I mean, all the guys are amazing, but Wyatt’s pretty special. Him and I spend a bit of time together working on Marble Protection’s IT, and I have yet to find a flaw in the guy.”

  Quinn had yet to find a flaw with the guy as well. She was still racking her brain on how that was possible. No one could be that perfect, surely.

  “Maybe he’s one of those guys who leaves the dishes in the sink to ‘soak.’” Quinn used air quotes when she said the last word.

  Shylah’s eyes widened. “Oh, I hate that. The lazy buggers. Or he could be someone who throws his clothes at the laundry basket rather than just walking the two feet to put them in. Dirty clothes end up everywhere.”

  “Yeah, everywhere but the basket.” Quinn hated that.

  Evie smiled. “I love Luca, but there’s one thing he does that really grinds my gears. When he empties the trash, he never remembers to put a new bag inside. I usually have my hands full of garbage when I realize.”

  Quinn shook her head. “I guess I’ll have to wait and see what Wyatt’s is.”

  It had to be something.

  “Then report back to us.” Shylah looked much too excited by the prospect.

  The women chatted for another ten minutes. Mostly about the boys and the crazy things they said and did.

  When Quinn glanced down at her phone, she realized it was almost time for her shift at the bakehouse. “I’ve got to get going. It was really nice seeing you both.”

  Shylah reached over and touched her hand. “We should organize a time for us all to go out together.”

  “I would love that.”

  “That would be lovely,” Evie agreed. “I’ll be away with Luca this weekend, but maybe the one after?”

  Shylah leaned back again. “Lexie and I think he’s going to pop the question.”

  Evie’s cheeks went a rosy pink shade. “I disagree. We haven’t been dating long enough.”

  Quinn stood and began packing up her belongings. “If there’s anything I’ve learned since meeting Wyatt, it’s that time is inconsequential when it comes to relationships. When you know, you know.”

  And Quinn definitely knew.

  “So, you are in a relationship.” Shylah’s eyes twinkled.

  Quinn pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’m infatuated with the guy. But don’t go telling him that. He’ll get a big head.”

  All three women laughed before saying a quick goodbye.

  God, this town was just getting better by the day. She had a job she was enjoying, a guy she was swooning over, and the women seemed to be people she could easily become good friends with.

  Quinn was just stepping outside when a message came through on her phone. Pulling it out, her heartbeat picked up a notch when she saw it was Wyatt. No words. Just four emojis. Two coffees, a couple holding hands and a sun.

  Quinn smiled. If she was interpreting the message correctly, he was saying he’d be back in time for breakfast.

  Gosh, she hoped she was right. She missed the guy like crazy. Missed talking to him. Touching him. Seeing his forehead furrow whenever she did something that confused him.

  Which was far too often.

  Quinn was just about to respond when her phone started ringing.

  Tanya.

  Crap. She hadn’t spoken to her friend in several days…and she certainly hadn’t told her about the last time she’d seen Darren. She’d been distancing herself from Tanya because it
was too hard to maintain a friendship with the way her husband had treated her.

  Reluctantly, Quinn lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Tan.”

  “Quinny. How are you?”

  She felt a tenderness at the use of the nickname. Tanya was the only person who called her that.

  Quinn continued down the street. “I’m good. Just settling into small-town life. Did I tell you I got a job at a bakery?”

  Tanya gasped through the line. “No. I don’t believe it.”

  Quinn wouldn’t have believed it a few months ago, either. “It’s true. I make coffee with an actual coffee machine and everything.”

  “Quinn. You’re an instant-coffee woman.”

  She used to be an instant-coffee woman. “What can I say, now I’m a changed woman.”

  “Wait until I tell Darren, he’ll lose his marbles.”

  She laughed, but it was forced. “Is he at work?”

  “Actually, no. That’s why I’m calling.”

  Quinn stopped. She tried to ignore the dread that was pooling in her stomach. “What is it, Tan?”

  “He’s still in Marble Falls. I tried to convince him to come home, but he said you weren’t okay. Are you okay, Quinn?”

  It took her a moment to wrap her head around what Tanya had just said. She had one glaringly obvious question—why was he still here? To convince her to drop the story again? Dammit, why hadn’t she just told him it was done?

  “Have you spoken to him?” Quinn asked.

  “A few nights ago. He hasn’t been answering my calls today or yesterday. Just sending quick text messages. I miss him.”

  So, he hadn’t told his wife the real reason he’d come. Quinn had no idea where he fit into this whole Project Arma and drug theft problem, but if Tanya didn’t know about it, Quinn was still dead set against involving her.

  “The next time I see him, I’ll try to convince him to go back to New York.”

  She intentionally left out the fact she hadn’t seen the man in over a week, not wanting to raise alarm in his wife.

  Tanya sighed. “Thank you. I already lost you and our weekly coffee dates. I’m going crazy without him, too.”

  Quinn smiled at the memory of their coffee dates. They went every Wednesday and basically spent the entire time complaining about men. It was very therapeutic.

  “I miss our coffee dates, too. Maybe we can do a phone date next Wednesday.”

  “Yes! And we can FaceTime it with coffees in hand.”

  Quinn chuckled, even though concern about the Darren situation still clouded her mind. “It’s a date.”

  “Good. And thank you, Quinn. You’re a good friend. Chat again soon.”

  “Bye, Tan.”

  Quinn hung up and shut her eyes.

  Good friend? She felt like the furthest thing from a good friend. She hadn’t told Tanya about the real reason Darren was in town because she hadn’t wanted to endanger her. Now, she was basically lying to her.

  The moment Wyatt returned, she needed to tell him about Darren so they could find him. They had to find out what his motivation was for trying to convince her to keep quiet about the story.

  They also needed to know how he knew about the killers’ genetic enhancements.

  Blowing out a long breath, Quinn continued walking to work. She hoped like hell Darren hadn’t involved himself too deeply in this mess. For Tanya’s sake, the guy better be redeemable.

  Chapter 18

  Quinn handed the coffees to her customers. The older couple thanked her before heading out. She was just about to turn around and begin cleaning when one of the customers stopped; the lady, who was halfway out the door.

  “This is fabulous coffee.”

  A smile a mile wide spread across Quinn’s face. “I’m glad you like it!”

  She remained composed right up until the door closed behind the couple. Once it was just her, she pumped both fists into the air and let out a squeal. Then, of course, she followed it up with a little happy dance.

  Finally. She could make a cup of coffee that didn’t taste terrible.

  Quinn was kicking goals today. First, she’d said goodbye to a story that she’d previously been determined to write. Now, she was making coffee so good it warranted compliments.

  Win-win.

  “You look happy.”

  Quinn spun around to see Mrs. Potter standing behind her.

  Jeez, the woman moved like a cat. And she’d probably caught Quinn’s cheesy dancing. “She liked my coffee.”

  It sounded like a trivial reason to be so happy. But not for her. Because for Quinn, it was a small step forward in this new life she was building for herself.

  A life that entailed new friends, a guy she really liked, and learning new skills. She hadn’t lied to Tanya, she really was a changed woman.

  Mrs. Potter nodded. “I heard. How wonderful. I hope you’re enjoying it here. Not just in the bakery, but in Marble Falls in general.”

  “I am.”

  At first, Quinn had seen the job as just that. A job. Something to earn her some money until she could get back a semblance of the life she’d lost.

  At some point, Marble Falls had started to feel like home.

  “There’s something peaceful about Marble Falls.”

  Mrs. Potter patted Quinn’s shoulder. “The town draws you in, doesn’t it?” She took an apron from the shelf and handed it to Quinn. “Would you like to help me make some cinnamon rolls?”

  Quinn’s eyes widened a fraction. Last shift, Mrs. Potter had shown her how to make apple pies. Quinn had loved it. But watching someone bake something was very different than helping them bake.

  Plus, the cinnamon rolls were the most popular item sold at the bakehouse. No way did she want to mess them up.

  With tentative fingers, Quinn took the apron. “Are you sure? I could put a dent in your bakery’s perfect reputation.”

  “Nonsense. Baking is like math. There’s a process. And once you learn the process, it’s easy.”

  That analogy did nothing to curb Quinn’s apprehension. She was also terrible at math.

  Mrs. Potter went to the cupboard and took ingredients out to place on the prep bench.

  “It’s great that you have work space and an oven out here, as well as in back.”

  Mrs. Potter nodded. “I designed it so I can bake in the back in the morning but also in the front, during the day, in between serving.”

  The woman was clearly a genius.

  Quinn tied the apron around her waist. “Just promise me you won’t sell these rolls if they suck.”

  “Nothing that is ever made in this store has ever ‘sucked,’ and I don’t anticipate today being the first.”

  Well, at least one of them had confidence.

  Quinn watched as Mrs. Potter got started. The woman explained every step. She also explained why each step was important, which helped cement it into Quinn’s brain.

  After a few minutes, Mrs. Potter placed the dough in front of Quinn. “If you kneed this for a few minutes, we can place them on the tray.”

  As they continued working through the process, Quinn found she was actually enjoying herself. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but baking actually seems kind of therapeutic.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. There’s a calmness in the repetitive motions and the step-by-step process. It forces you to be mindful.”

  “I guess it also takes your mind off anything that’s happening in your life. Things you may not want to think about.”

  Mrs. Potter paused to give Quinn her full attention. “Funny you say that. That’s exactly why I began baking so many years ago.” She turned back to what she was doing, a reflective expression on her face. “You may not believe this, but I used to be a criminal defense attorney.”

  Okay, if that wasn’t a knock-her-socks-off kind of surprise, nothing would be.

  Mrs. Potter was right. It was pretty unbelievable. The woman looked about as far from a defense attorney as possible. “No…”
r />   “Oh, yes. My old life involved long working days and even longer nights. I had a complete absence of work-life balance. My job was my world. And I loved it.”

  It sounded like Quinn with her job at The New York Times.

  “What happened?”

  “I baked a cake.”

  Quinn chuckled, unsure if she was being serious.

  “I don’t even remember why now. I’d barely baked a thing in my life, but one day, I saw some bananas in a bowl, the eggs in the fridge, and decided to make a banana cake. It was fun. So, a few days later, I made another. Soon, I was baking every other day. I shared what I baked with friends and family. No one seemed to hate it. One day, I realized I enjoyed being in the kitchen more than the courtroom. And that was it. I left the high-stress job, moved here and started Mrs. Potter’s Bakehouse.”

  “Just like that?”

  “It seems odd, doesn’t it? I guess when something feels right, you just need to follow it. We only have a limited time on this Earth. Why not follow what makes us happy?”

  There was so much truth to that statement. “Do you ever regret it?”

  “Leaving my job? Oh, no. Not for a second. Don’t get me wrong, it was scary. The corporate life was all I’d ever known. But at some point, I started needing something different. Something quieter. Something to feed my soul.”

  It was like the woman was speaking every little whisper that had been floating around Quinn’s brain for the last couple weeks.

  Never in Quinn’s life would she have been able to picture herself feeling at home in a small town. Never would she have been able to picture herself baking.

  And yet, here she was, living in Marble Falls, baking cinnamon rolls. Happy.

  “Sometimes our lives take unexpected turns,” she continued. “I’ve found it’s best just to roll with it.” Mrs. Potter lifted the dough. “This looks fantastic.”

  Quinn smiled, then glanced at the clock. “Will they be bought? It’s already afternoon.”

  She laughed. “No. We’re making these purely for you to learn. What doesn’t get purchased are for you to take home. Wyatt loves these.”