of something that to her expert observation appeared to be pain. But he still took a woman’s breath. A foolish woman.
“Are you all right?” Her profession kicked in even when she didn’t want it to.
He blinked, clearly surprised at the question. “Why?”
This wasn’t her business. “Never mind. Where’s Derrick?”
Quinn motioned toward a small unpainted building to the left of the house.
“You locked him in a shed?” she asked, horrified.
Quinn snorted. His eyes, so tired before, lit with wry amusement. “I didn’t think of that or I would have. Maybe you should try it.”
He was joking. He had to be. “What’s he doing out there?”
“Go see for yourself.” He slammed the door in her face.
Gena stared at the peeling front door. The friendly, smiling young Quinn who could charm the spots off a leopard was now a snarly, moody recluse.
“Well, fine.”
She straightened her shoulders and started across the leaf-covered patch of yard. It was better this way. The less she saw of Quinn, the safer her secret. She refused to let him upset her. She wasn’t the shy, aching teenager anymore who thought he’d hung the moon.
The cabin door opened behind her. Gena heard footsteps. She tensed and glanced over one shoulder. Quinn was coming her way, shrugging into a coat.
“I’ll get him and go,” she said. “No need to come out.”
Quinn kept right on walking. Sun shot gold through his hair and haloed his head, though he’d never been choir boy material. An amicable guy, but hardly perfect. Except in the looks department. He was still broad shouldered and built like an inverted wedge, a man women noticed. Time might have changed his personality but not his good looks and charisma.
Gena jerked her attention away. No matter how pretty he was, pretty is as pretty does.
She grabbed the wobbly shed handle and yanked, relieved when it didn’t fall off in her hand. Derrick was so grounded.
“Derrick, get in the...” At the sight before her, the words died in her throat unspoken. Her cranky, surly nephew who didn’t seem to care about anything at all these days sat cross-legged on the bare floor while a mother cat licked milk from his fingertips. Nestled around the black-and-white cat was a wad of brand-new baby kittens.
Derrick raised a rapt face. “She had babies. I watched.”
Gena went to her haunches. “How many?”
“Four. She’s really tired now.” He sounded vulnerable and sweet like the loving little boy he’d once been.
“I expect so.” She stroked a finger across the mother cat’s head. The animal seemed friendly. The big surprise to her was that Quinn Buchanon would own a cat. An attack-trained Rottweiler, yes. But a cat?
She looked up at the bewildering man standing inside the door. Had she misjudged him?
He was watching her. Not Derrick or the cats but her. For ten seconds their eyes held. Gena suffered a dozen conflicting emotions—completely unwanted attraction and a desire to know the man behind the haggard face and bent, scarred arm. Remembrance of who he’d once been, of what he’d done. Fear that he would learn the truth and hurt Derrick more. The last thought tugged her focus back to the boy.
“We should go. I have work to catch up on and you have homework for tomorrow.”
The sweet expression disappeared so fast she thought she’d imagined it. “I hate school.”
Big news. He said those same words every day. “Derrick...”
Quinn squatted beside her; the scent of wood smoke and cold air circled around him. To Derrick he said, his voice almost gentle, “Don’t worry about the kittens. They’ll be okay.”
Derrick’s pale eyes flashed to Quinn. He tried to appear nonchalant but Gena saw what she’d missed, what Quinn had seen. The boy had always had a soft spot for animals, but she’d thought it had disappeared along with the rest of his sweet nature.
“The mother knows what to do,” she said. “She’ll care for them.”
“But they can’t see. Their eyes are glued shut. What if they get too far away from her?”
“She’ll bring them back.” To prove the point, Quinn reached into the box and gently lifted a tiny kitten by the scruff, moving it slightly away from the mama. It mewed. Instantly, the mother cat rose to bring the kitten back with the others and gave it a rough-tongued lick for good measure.
“Oh.” Derrick swiped a sleeve over his nose and sniffed. “Dumb cats.”
Gena felt a smile coming on. Without intending to, she glanced at Quinn and saw his eyes spark, too.
Suddenly afraid, she scrambled to her feet. “Let’s go. We promised Mr. Buchanon to stay away from here.”
“You promised. I didn’t.”
The mulish attitude was back.
“You don’t get a say in this, kid. I’m the boss around here.” Quinn’s voice was casual but made of steel as he rose to his full and impressive height. What was he? Like six-five or something?
“But if you behave yourself, you can come back another time to see the kittens. And I won’t call the sheriff.”
Derrick’s shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. “Yeah?”
“No!” Gena shoved the shed door open, pulse thrumming. The bare wood slammed against the wall, ripping the gray morning.
Derrick was giving her heart trouble. At this rate, she’d be in cardiac arrest before her next birthday. “You can’t come here again. I’ve already told you that, but if you don’t argue, I’ll ground you from the computer for only two days.”
“That’s stupid,” he groused, but exited the well house and stomped across the frozen ground toward the SUV.
Gena sighed, aware that she’d won one battle but lost another. Derrick seemed to slip further away all the time. No matter what she did, he resented it.
Quinn came up beside her. She didn’t look at him, didn’t trust herself to look into his weary face and feel things that weren’t allowed. He was the enemy of all she held dear, and she’d do well to remember it.
“Has he always been this belligerent?”
“No.” Gena stared at the frozen ground, saw the gleam of ice that would soon melt away. If only problems would do the same. “He used to be the sweetest boy, the happy, cuddly kid who adored me.”
Back when she hadn’t been the boss. Back when Renae— She shut the door on the useless thought. She’d chosen this life for Renae’s sake, and she refused to regret the decision.
Without
