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

  She could just imagine Mason rolling his eyes. “You swear?”

  “I swear.”

  Quinn was damn glad she wasn’t speaking to her brother in person. He had a weird knack for being able to spot a lie.

  Not that what she’d said was a complete lie. It just wasn’t the complete truth.

  “I’m due back in a couple of weeks, but I can—”

  “Don’t even think about coming home early. It sounds like Sage needs this time with her brother.”

  Mason sighed. “Fine. Just…keep out of danger. At least until I get back.”

  Quinn smiled. “No problem. I hate danger. Thanks for calling. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Q. Night.”

  When the line went dead, Quinn sat there considering her options. She could march across the hall right now and confront the no-good ratbag. But if she did that, she might lose her head. She might even cause some bodily harm.

  She needed to sleep on it. Figure out a plan that didn’t involve exploding on the guy.

  But if she woke up and the plan still involved killing him…well then, that’s just what she would do.

  Chapter 6

  Quinn watched as Mrs. Potter sipped the coffee. A lot was riding on that coffee. Not just because Quinn had made it. But because it was her third try. Third! Who knew making a good cup of coffee was so hard!

  The first two attempts had been disastrous. The milk had burned and the coffee itself had been too weak.

  Mrs. Potter had told her the drink was a disaster in the nicest possible way. But if Quinn failed again, surely the older woman’s kindness would run out.

  This time, Mrs. Potter had not only talked Quinn through the entire process, she’d also watched each and every step, right down to the chocolate sprinkle on top.

  Quinn bit her bottom lip as Mrs. Potter lowered the cup. When she didn’t immediately grimace, Quinn’s optimism went up a notch. Maybe there was hope after all.

  “This is a lot better, dear.”

  Better. Still not the bees-knees of coffees, but not spit-it-out-and-demand-a-refund bad. Quinn could work with that.

  “Good. That’s good. It’s progress, right?”

  “That it is. Try the next one on your own. See if you can remember all the steps.”

  “Sure.” Quinn could do that. She’d investigated some of the biggest stories in the country. She could use a coffee machine without Mrs. Potter watching over her shoulder and directing the ship.

  “While you do that, I need to run out and grab some flour from the store. Unfortunately, the delivery doesn’t come in until tomorrow and we’ve run out.”

  Almost without thinking, Quinn took a step toward the other woman. “Really? Leave me and the coffee machine by ourselves? Someone could come in and order a coffee. Multiple people could come in and order coffees. I could go to the shop?”

  Please, oh please, let me go to the shop.

  Mrs. Potter shook her head. “You’ll be okay, dear. No need to worry. Besides, I need to go because I like to butter up Ed, the store owner, so that he gives me a discount.” She laughed. “I won’t be long.”

  “Okay.”

  It didn’t actually feel okay, but what else could she say?

  Quinn watched as Mrs. Potter grabbed her bag and waved goodbye. It was like waving goodbye to the person holding the last raft of a sinking ship.

  Okay. Maybe she was being a tad dramatic. That didn’t mean she wasn’t tempted to walk over and put the closed sign on the door.

  Ha. Yeah, right. That would be a sure way to get herself fired.

  Turning back to the machine, she got started on the next one. She was halfway through heating the milk when the dinging of the door sounded.

  Ah, crap. Please be a kid wanting chocolate milk.

  When she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed it wasn’t a kid. Far from it. Four fully grown men stood inside the bakery. They were huge. Huge and good-looking as heck. Particularly one of them.

  Wyatt.

  Double crap. She hadn’t gone over to his place for their regular coffee that morning. She’d planned to, but when she’d woken up, she’d still had might-kill-him mentality. Going straight to work had seemed the safest option for everyone.

  Putting down the half-heated milk, Quinn walked over to the counter.

  Holy heck, if these guys were all Mason’s SEAL brothers, she had to question whether there was some Navy SEAL requirement that you needed to be a foot taller than the regular citizen.

  When they stopped at the counter, Quinn gave a sweet smile, avoiding Wyatt. “Hi, what can I get for you guys today?”

  A man with short brown hair and dimples on his cheeks smiled back. “Well, hello there. Mrs. Potter didn’t mention she’d hired a new employee. I’m Bodie. This is Kye, Oliver, and Wyatt.”

  She looked at Kye, whose dark, intense eyes were softened by his smile. When her attention swung to Oliver, she had to smile at the wink he gave her. Both men had military written all over them. They all did.

  She left Wyatt for last. When her gaze fell on his, she noticed he was studying her. Probably trying to assess just how annoyed she was.

  Very, buddy. Very annoyed.

  “Nice to meet you, guys. I’m Quinn Ross.”

  Recognition hit all three of Wyatt’s friends at the same time.

  “Eagle’s sister?” Kye asked.

  “The one and only. I’ve heard a lot about you guys. I hope you haven’t heard a lot about me. Mason seems to only remember when I get into trouble.”

  “We’ve only heard good things,” Oliver commented.

  Yeah, right. Quinn would pretend like she believed him. “What can I get you?”

  Bodie, Kye, and Oliver ordered lattes, while Wyatt ordered a cappuccino with sugar.

  Quinn glanced over at the coffee machine, then back at the guys. “Mrs. Potter should be back in a moment if you’d like to wait for her?”

  It was Wyatt who responded. “We’re actually running late for a team meeting at work.”

  Of course they were.

  “Okay. I’ll have them right up.” Or, at least, she hoped she would.

  Once the men paid, they sat at a table by the window.

  Quinn eyed the door.

  Come on, Mrs. Potter. Walk through the door. Save me.

  She didn’t. The door remained firmly closed, dammit.

  Heading back to the machine, Quinn tried to think positive thoughts. Lifting the jug of milk, she studied the contents. It should be enough for four coffees.

  “Need some help?”

  Jumping at the sound of Wyatt’s voice near her ear, she spun around. “Holy cow, make a noise or something next time.”

  He straightened beside her. “I’m sorry.”

  She frowned. Was he saying sorry for scaring the crap out of her just now, or was he saying sorry for the other stuff?

  “I should have told you that I knew your brother, and therefore knew who you were,” he continued.

  So, the other stuff. “Why didn’t you?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Because I enjoyed it just being you and me, and I had a feeling it would change if I brought up Eagle.”

  Quinn had liked that too. But dishonesty by omission was still dishonesty.

  “You still should have told me you knew who I was. But I get that. Kind of. There’s still the other part, though. The part where you went back to your apartment yesterday, researched me, then called my brother.”

  Gosh, even saying it out loud made her feel like a kid getting told on by her teacher.

  He took a small step closer. Even though she was mad, it didn’t take away from the fact that the man smelled good. Smelled good, looked good. The whole shebang.

  “I was worried. Your brother said you were taking a break from work, but things weren’t adding up.”

  Quinn turned back to the machine and poured more milk into the pitcher. “I get it. He’s your friend. You guys are close. Of course you did what you did. You
and I just met.”

  “You and I are friends, Quinn. Well, I consider you a friend.”

  She shook her head. “Then I guess you have some making up to do. You know, to get back into my good graces.” She began frothing the milk. At the same time, she noticed Wyatt fiddling with the machine. “What are you doing?”

  Rather than stopping, he started the process of bean grinding. “Working my way back into your good graces by helping.”

  “Maybe I don’t need your help?”

  She definitely did. Not that she would be admitting that to him.

  “Your milk is about to overheat.”

  Her eyes flew back to the thermometer.

  Dang it! Quinn quickly pulled the pitcher away.

  Cursing under her breath, she moved to throw out the milk, only to stop at Wyatt’s hand on her arm. Wyatt’s tanned, muscular hand that sent jolts of electricity up her arm.

  “It was about to overheat. It didn’t. It’s good to use.”

  “It will be too hot.”

  He shrugged. “We’re a tough bunch. We can handle it.” He placed four cups, which now contained coffee, in front of her. “You might find it easiest to do the cappuccino last.”

  Quinn began to fill the cups as Wyatt placed a large teaspoon of sugar in his.

  “Will the guys complain if these taste like dirt?”

  “Nah. They’ll just get their coffees from Joan’s Diner whenever they spot you in here.”

  Great!

  One side of Wyatt’s mouth pulled up. Okay, the man was messing with her.

  “Yeah, okay. Don’t forget to tell them you helped.” Popping the lids on the cups, Quinn placed them in a cup holder. “Even though I could have done it myself, I appreciate your help.”

  She placed the tray of coffees into his waiting hands. Rather than walking back to the table, his gaze remained fixed on her. “I missed you this morning.”

  She’d missed him, too. It had been one lonely, instant-coffee kind of morning.

  “I was a tad grumpy. I wouldn’t have made good company.” And you may have ended up injured.

  Placing the coffees on the counter, he lifted his hand and pushed a lock of stray hair behind her ear. And oh lordy, did she enjoy the way his skin brushed against hers.

  “Good. I was worried you were avoiding me.”

  “I was. But now you’ve apologized and we’ve decided you have some major making up to do. I won’t be missing that.” Plus, avoiding the guy for any long period of time would probably be impossible.

  “That I do.”

  “But don’t do it again. The lying by omission or the researching me and telling my brother. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She blew out a breath. “You are one lucky man that I’m so forgiving.”

  Wyatt chuckled before dipping his head and placing his lips by his ear. “I am very lucky. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, sunshine.”

  His breath brushed her skin. And just for a moment, she thought she felt the slightest touch of his lips.

  Then he straightened and walked back to his friends. A moment later, they were waving and exiting the bakery.

  Christ, she was in trouble. She was catching feelings, and she was catching them fast.

  Shaking her head, she walked back over to check her phone. She needed a distraction. Maybe Maya had finally responded to her. A few days ago, the woman had stopped replying to her emails and texts. Quinn had no idea why, and she was getting worried.

  Maya had already been able to provide Quinn with brief descriptions of all the men. It was actually quite impressive. For a woman who must have been scared out of her mind, she had been able to take in a lot of detail.

  Quinn believed every word the woman said about what she saw. It was crazy. She was the last person to believe that people with such abilities existed.

  The thing was, she hadn’t detected an ounce of insincerity in the scientist. She seemed like a normal, sane, educated woman—who had witnessed something impossible.

  And that scared the crap out of Quinn. Because she knew how much bad existed in the world. She knew that people could commit inherently terrible acts. The only thing that helped her sleep at night was the fact that the bad guys were human. And humans could be stopped.

  She wasn’t so sure about the men Maya had described.

  When she clicked into her emails, she noticed there was no message from Maya. Before she could put down her phone, a message popped up from Tanya.

  Quinn had told her friend the bare minimum about Darren’s visit. Tanya knew nothing about the story she was researching. Her friend didn’t get involved in her husband’s work. And the last thing Quinn wanted to do was tell Tanya about the story and land her in the middle of danger.

  So, Quinn had told Tanya that her husband had stopped by, checked on her, then gone to stay at a hotel. Not the whole truth. But not a complete lie.

  She read Tanya’s message, thanking her for the update on her husband’s visit. Quinn wished she could be honest with the other woman. Tell her what had really happened yesterday.

  But there wasn’t much she could say. She didn’t know why Darren was so dead set on her staying away from the story. She could only hope she’d find out.

  Chapter 7

  Wyatt cracked an egg into the pan. Eggs and bacon. If that didn’t win his way back into Quinn’s good graces, he wasn’t sure what would.

  When she hadn’t come around for coffee yesterday, he’d been disappointed, but not surprised. Mornings with Quinn had fast become the highlight of his day.

  That’s why he’d convinced the guys to grab coffee from Mrs. Potter’s Bakehouse. They had a perfectly good coffee machine at Marble Protection, which his friends had been quick to point out. But he’d wanted to see her. Talk to her. Assess just how mad she was and whether he had a chance at redemption.

  The moment her gaze had brushed over him, annoyance tinging her delicate features, he’d thought for sure he was screwed.

  Then he’d helped her prepare their order. And little by little the ice had thawed.

  There was hope.

  His friends had listened to every word he’d said to her. Wyatt knew it would have been impossible for them not to. They’d given him crap about it for the rest of the afternoon. Questions were asked—about their coffee dates, their relationship…

  Wyatt had been honest. They were friends. Possibly building toward something more.

  Thank God, the guys had agreed not to mention anything to Mason. Wyatt needed time to talk to her brother himself. Preferably in person.

  Flipping the bacon in the pan, Wyatt was about to move on to the coffee when a knock on the door sounded.

  Right on time.

  Turning the heat down, he went to open the door. Quinn stood there, arms crossed, looking absolutely breathtaking as per usual.

  “I haven’t forgiven you. Not yet. But—” Quinn paused, a small frown creasing her brow. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  Wyatt was almost a hundred percent certain that was not what she’d been about to say. “It is. I’ve also got eggs and coffee.”

  Her eyes widened before tilting her head to peer around him. “And how much of this bacon, eggs, and coffee do you have?”

  “Enough for you, me, and leftovers.” Wyatt took a step back. “Have breakfast with me.”

  She bit her lip. Wyatt had to clench his fists to stop from reaching out for her.

  “Is this part of your ploy to get me to forgive you?”

  “Is it working?”

  “Heck, yeah.” She brushed passed him and headed to the kitchen. “Oh my goodness, the closer I get, the better it smells.”

  Closing the door after her, he went to retake his position at the stove. “Take a seat while I finish.” Wyatt made a start on the coffees. At the same time, Quinn slid onto a stool at the island.

  “So, tell me, how did you find out I was fired? It’s not like it was public information.”

  Wyatt filled a co
ffee mug and added milk. “A bit of digging.”

  “Legal digging?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I tend to be able to find things that others can’t.”

  “Didn’t answer my question. Which is an answer right there. What exactly did you find?”

  Not nearly as much as he’d hoped. “That you were fired for not following orders.”

  As he turned his head, he caught her eye roll. “Darren’s an asshat.”

  Wyatt could think of a lot worse names for the man. “What did you do that got you fired?”

  “My job.” She shook her head. “I was researching a story about a break-in. He told me I wasn’t allowed to. That the story was ‘off-limits,” Quinn used her fingers to do air quotes, “so naturally, I kept digging. Next minute, he fires me.”

  Wyatt placed her coffee in front of her but remained quiet, knowing she had more to say.

  “At first I thought it was some kind of joke. I mean, what kind of investigative journalist gets fired for investigating a story? I stayed in New York hoping for the call that I could come back. All I did was waste my time and money.”

  Sounded frustrating as hell. “I’m sorry.”

  Even though she tried to mask it, he could see the entire situation caused her a lot of stress. The woman clearly loved her job.

  “Thank you. Who knows, maybe the break from journalism will actually do me some good. I wasn’t lying when I told you I was a workaholic.”

  Wyatt didn’t doubt it. When people were passionate about what they did, they didn’t tend to need a break.

  “But you’re still working on the story?”

  Quinn remained silent for a moment. “I’m not really working on the story, seeing as I don’t have a job as a journalist. I’m researching it. Do not tell my brother that, though. It’s some harmless online searches I’m doing, nothing that will put me in danger.”

  “Quinn, the guys and I don’t keep secrets—”

  “It’s not a secret,” she interrupted. “I’ll tell Mason all about it when he gets home. If I tell him earlier, he’ll rush back here like a madman for no reason. Please, Wyatt. It’s completely safe.”