But why?
The way he’d gripped her waist when she’d landed on top of him? How he’d stroked his thumb against the soft skin of her low back like hehadto touch her, had to feel her. And his grip? It had tightened, not painful just—demanding—holding and melding them together like he was so needful of touch, of physical contact, that he’d wanted to absorb her, body and soul.
That response hadn’t been forced. If anything, it proved how much Elias held himself back, kept himselfleashed. Like letting go would be a bad thing.
But he had. For that split second of time, he had let go when he’d taken control of the kiss and devoured her. Ravaged her lips until time stopped, and all she could do—all she wanted to do—was let him. Her mind had quieted, and she’d been held captive by his kiss and touch and the scent of him with every breath.
Quinley opened her eyes, unsure of when she’d closed them, and found her fingertips pressed tight to her mouth like she tried to seal in the memory of the kiss.
She lowered her hand with a frown guaranteed to leave permanent wrinkles.
She could totally understand that her life was a dumpster fire still burning at the moment, but something made her think Elias’s behavior—his oh-so-careful restraint—was based on something that ran deeper and even more complex than the fact she’d been a runaway bride last weekend.
Her personal life was a problem. Itwas. For her andobviouslyfor Elias. She wasn’t discounting the drama she carried like a giant bug in her wine glass.
But something told her that wasn’twhyElias kept such a tight grip on himself. She felt it in the depths of her soul. But until she figured out her own life, who was she to meddle in his? To mess his up any more than she already had?
She wanted to repay him, and one way or another, shewouldrepay him for whisking her away and allowing her to stay at the cabin while she attempted to get her mind right. But until she could come up with a plan to help him achieve his dream restaurant, she needed to give him peace.
So…no more kissing.
Flirting? Sure. Friendly? Absolutely. But no more kissing. Well, not unlesshekissed her, and then…that was different, wasn’t it?
The next day Elias was surprised to see Quinley emerge from her room in leggings, a sweatshirt, a quilted vest, and sturdy looking boots. One look said they were name-brand and undoubtedly expensive. “Going somewhere?”
She wore his hat. The Carolina Cove snapback that he’d given her that first night to make it inside while keeping her face hidden.
“Outside. This cabin is beautiful and has been a much-needed haven, but I can’t come all the way to the mountains and literally spend a week inside, never seeing them.”
He felt his lips quirk up on one side. “Better eat a decent breakfast then, or you won’t make it very far.”
Her gaze narrowed, but other than a flash of her eyes, she didn’t comment. She just walked over to where he stood at the stove fixing breakfast and snatched a strawberry from the plate.
“Over easy or scrambled?”
“Scrambled,” she said. “And two of them, please.”
Her appetite was back. Finally. He quickly mixed up the eggs and seasoned them, and in minutes, he delivered fluffy eggs to her at the counter with the other items he’d prepped before he sat down beside her. “Are your guards going to be okay with you hiking?”
She paused in her eating to finish chewing and swallowing.
“They don’t need to know. We haven’t had any trouble here, and they patrol the perimeter regularly.”
“They’re going to see you leave, Quinley.”
“Are you a sneak-out virgin, too? Don’t you know that’s what windows on the back of the house are for?”
He grinned at her words. “Fine. But I’m going with you and bringing the nine millimeter.”
She looked up at him then, and he felt that gut punch of awareness hit him like a wave. He should let her go hikingwithher guards and keep himself here. Away from her. He should, but…he wouldn’t.
“I’ve been thinking of ways I can repay you,” she said, shifting her attention back to her food. “I’ve made a lot of connections over the years, and I thought of someone I’d like to talk to about your restaurant. Perhaps he’d be a potential investor, seeing as how you said your brothers aren’t supportive.”
“Quinley, you don’t need to repay me.”
“Fine, don’t think of it as repayment. But…we’re friends, Elias, aren’t we? Believe it or not, I help my friends whenever I can. I’d like to broach the topic with him and get a feel for his response, but only with your permission. Good ideas can be taken, so I understand you wanting to keep this to yourself, but if funding is an issue, I believe he would be a good source. He’s the quiet type, a gentle giant,” she added, “and a total foodie with allergies similar to yours, I believe. It came up once when my father insisted on a business dinner, and the gentleman in question didn’t eat anything. He didn’t give details that night, of course, but now that I’ve met you, I’m fairly certain that might be why. If nothing else, he might reach out and be a supporter.”
He thought over her words and nodded. “I appreciate the effort. And the friendship. I’m fine with that. See what he thinks.”
