“Did you mean what you said?”
“I always do.”
“Then I could use you.”
He reached inside for a coat, then moved down the steps and let himself into the truck. Not a huge man, he still seemed to shrink the space. “First sale?”
“Third, actually. The first things were picked up.”
“You must have priced them to move.”
“Anything’s more than I would have had.” She pulled out. “The oak cupboard’s going to a woman right in town.”
The thing was heavier than sin, though, both of them struggling. “If you pop your stitches I’m going to feel bad.”
He flexed his hand. “I know where to find the doc.”
Together they shoved the cupboard on the packing blanket onto the tailgate and into the bed. “This—” she huffed—“is why I don’t sell furniture.”
He eyed her. “You’re pretty strong for your size.”
The unaccustomed warmth was out of proportion to what might not even be a compliment. It just felt good to have someone in her corner. “If Minnie has stairs, we’re in trouble.”
Minnie did have stairs, but the cupboard stayed on the first floor in the kitchen, where they got it after removing the door at the hinges. She absolutely would never sell furniture online.
Going back outside as the sun sent scarlet flame across the rosy sky, Morgan raised his head. “Hear that?”
She said, “Elk.” The screeching bugle was unmistakable.
“Someone’s proud of himself.”
“That noise would make me run.”
His mouth pulled sideways. “Good thing you’re not a lady elk.”
She cast him a glance. “Thanks for not calling me a cow.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he pulled the truck door open.
She left him at Noelle’s and went home herself. The more she saw of him, the less she could imagine his alter ego. Without the Internet pictures proving his fame, he’d be just a guy—a devastating guy with as much baggage as she.
Watching Quinn leave, Morgan turned at the sound of hooves as his brother cantered into the yard on his fine roan stallion. A dark rust color and perfectly proportioned, Destiny had great bloodlines, and Rick knew how to make the most of it. With his expert training, Destiny’s foals brought top dollar.
Man and beast halted by mutual consent with a stilled power awesome to behold, especially knowing how many times Rick had landed in the dirt and gotten back on to accomplish it. “Was that Quinn’s truck?” he said.
Morgan nodded.
“Problems with the house?”
“I helped her move something.”
Rick dismounted. “It’s a huge undertaking for one person. You ought to help her out.”
“I just did.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean.”
Rick stroked the horse’s neck. “It is your house.” He was saying more than that.
“Not yet.” Unlike Rick, Quinn hadn’t made his helping personal. At one time their playful repartee would have prompted an invitation for more. Either she read his boundaries or the edges warned her off—a good thing either way.
Noelle came out with Livie and called them for dinner.
Rick said, “I’ll just see to Destiny,” and headed for the stable.
Morgan joined Noelle and reached for his child. “Hey, jelly bean.”
She smiled. “Not jelly bean.”
“Sweet pink cotton-candy bean.”
“You . . . green jelly bean.”
“No, that’s Liam. I’m black licorice.” He made his voice growly.
“Don’t like licrish. ”
“But I do.” He dove for her neck with his mouth. Recalling the delight Quinn took in his little girl—whether he invited it or not—a smile touched his lips. She got points for spunk. And pure good taste.
CHAPTER
5
G iven the guilt Rick had spooned on like sugar when it was really cayenne, Morgan took his little girl the next morning for a drive to Vera’s house. Quinn hadn’t requested any more help, and her truck wasn’t outside, though it could be in the garage, given the bitter weather. He jogged through windblown ice flecks from a sullen sky that
“I always do.”
“Then I could use you.”
He reached inside for a coat, then moved down the steps and let himself into the truck. Not a huge man, he still seemed to shrink the space. “First sale?”
“Third, actually. The first things were picked up.”
“You must have priced them to move.”
“Anything’s more than I would have had.” She pulled out. “The oak cupboard’s going to a woman right in town.”
The thing was heavier than sin, though, both of them struggling. “If you pop your stitches I’m going to feel bad.”
He flexed his hand. “I know where to find the doc.”
Together they shoved the cupboard on the packing blanket onto the tailgate and into the bed. “This—” she huffed—“is why I don’t sell furniture.”
He eyed her. “You’re pretty strong for your size.”
The unaccustomed warmth was out of proportion to what might not even be a compliment. It just felt good to have someone in her corner. “If Minnie has stairs, we’re in trouble.”
Minnie did have stairs, but the cupboard stayed on the first floor in the kitchen, where they got it after removing the door at the hinges. She absolutely would never sell furniture online.
Going back outside as the sun sent scarlet flame across the rosy sky, Morgan raised his head. “Hear that?”
She said, “Elk.” The screeching bugle was unmistakable.
“Someone’s proud of himself.”
“That noise would make me run.”
His mouth pulled sideways. “Good thing you’re not a lady elk.”
She cast him a glance. “Thanks for not calling me a cow.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he pulled the truck door open.
She left him at Noelle’s and went home herself. The more she saw of him, the less she could imagine his alter ego. Without the Internet pictures proving his fame, he’d be just a guy—a devastating guy with as much baggage as she.
Watching Quinn leave, Morgan turned at the sound of hooves as his brother cantered into the yard on his fine roan stallion. A dark rust color and perfectly proportioned, Destiny had great bloodlines, and Rick knew how to make the most of it. With his expert training, Destiny’s foals brought top dollar.
Man and beast halted by mutual consent with a stilled power awesome to behold, especially knowing how many times Rick had landed in the dirt and gotten back on to accomplish it. “Was that Quinn’s truck?” he said.
Morgan nodded.
“Problems with the house?”
“I helped her move something.”
Rick dismounted. “It’s a huge undertaking for one person. You ought to help her out.”
“I just did.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean.”
Rick stroked the horse’s neck. “It is your house.” He was saying more than that.
“Not yet.” Unlike Rick, Quinn hadn’t made his helping personal. At one time their playful repartee would have prompted an invitation for more. Either she read his boundaries or the edges warned her off—a good thing either way.
Noelle came out with Livie and called them for dinner.
Rick said, “I’ll just see to Destiny,” and headed for the stable.
Morgan joined Noelle and reached for his child. “Hey, jelly bean.”
She smiled. “Not jelly bean.”
“Sweet pink cotton-candy bean.”
“You . . . green jelly bean.”
“No, that’s Liam. I’m black licorice.” He made his voice growly.
“Don’t like licrish. ”
“But I do.” He dove for her neck with his mouth. Recalling the delight Quinn took in his little girl—whether he invited it or not—a smile touched his lips. She got points for spunk. And pure good taste.
CHAPTER
5
G iven the guilt Rick had spooned on like sugar when it was really cayenne, Morgan took his little girl the next morning for a drive to Vera’s house. Quinn hadn’t requested any more help, and her truck wasn’t outside, though it could be in the garage, given the bitter weather. He jogged through windblown ice flecks from a sullen sky that
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