At First Touch by Tamara Sneed Page B

actress.”
    â€œI’m not an idiot, Wyatt,” she said icily, her cheeks flushing with anger. Wyatt didn’t know whether to feel excited that he had finally gotten a reaction out of Dorrie or worried. “I saw the way you looked at her, and I saw the way she looked at you. The whole diner did.”
    â€œQuinn and I are friends,” he said, attempting to carefully walk through the minefield without losing any limbs.
    She snorted in disbelief, then appeared surprised that she had done anything so unladylike. She shook her head as the anger slowly drained from her face. “I don’t know why I’m getting so upset. You don’t owe me anything.”
    â€œNot yet.”
    Her expression grew guarded as she studied him. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI think you know how I feel about you, Dorrie. I really like you. I think you and I have a lot in common and want the same things for the future. I want to get to know you better.”
    A smile bloomed across her face and she instantly stared at the ground, as if she hadn’t meant to smile like that. Wyatt smiled, relieved.
    â€œI want to get to know you better, too,” she said softly.
    â€œLunch? Same time tomorrow?”
    â€œI’d like that,” she said, finally meeting his eyes again.
    She waved, then walked into her office. Wyatt waited until the door closed, then cursed. Quinn wanted to know if he ever spoke. Well, he now had plenty to say to her. A lot, in fact.

Chapter 6
    Q uinn didn’t like to reward herself with food, but sometimes only the ability to eat anything she wanted could sufficiently reward a woman who normally ate no more than fifteen hundred calories a day. Quinn bit into the oversized cheeseburger she had picked up from another diner outside town, then stuffed several French fries in her mouth. She moaned in pleasure and leaned back against the pillows of the porch swing on the back porch of the house.
    She would never admit it, but this was her favorite spot in Sibleyville. Two large trees shadowed the back porch from the overhead sun. There were gentle rolling green hills as far as the eye could see punctuated by little bursts of wildflowers that bloomed in the summer.
    This afternoon there was a chill in the air, but the sun shone and the all-encompassing quiet was only interrupted by the occasional shrill of a bird call.
    She had changed out of her come-hither clothes into a pair of comfortable, worn jeans and one of Graham’s sweatshirts. As a result, she was warm for the first time since she had driven into Sibleyville last night. And she was actually eating. Real food. She almost felt content; maybe Sibleyville was not exactly the pit of hell she had always pictured. But then again, she was drowning her insides with fat and grease, and a girl was liable to feel anything under that influence.
    She chuckled to herself as she remembered Wyatt’s expression in the diner. An hour later and she still got a good laugh out of it. He had been furious. Annoyed. Pushed to the limit. Completely outmatched. By the time Charlie and Graham arrived in town in another few hours, Wyatt would have admitted defeat and Quinn would be packed and ready to return to Los Angeles. Of course, Kendra would not be happy to arrive here and not find Quinn, but Quinn would thank Kendra in her Oscar acceptance speech.
    Quinn smiled again, then lifted her wineglass to her imagined enraptured audience. No, she would first thank Wyatt in her Oscar speech. He could fume while he changed all those babies’ diapers he was so looking forward to changing.
    â€œCelebrating something?” came a dry voice.
    Quinn screeched in fear at the sight of Wyatt standing in the yard. She screamed again when she realized that she had spilled wine all over her jeans. She jumped to her feet and swiped at her jeans with the towel she had been using as a napkin.
    â€œDamn it, Wyatt. You scared me,” she snapped,