Under the Covers

Chapter Ten

Juliet snuggled her butt closer into Quinn’s groin, playing with the hair on his arm, which was lying heavily across her waist. “I like spooning,” she murmured sleepily.

He kissed her head.

The storm continued to rage outside, but inside, only contentment reigned.

For now.

“Understand the rules, darlin’?” he rumbled.

“If you have a nightmare, don’t touch you. Don’t try to awaken you. I should slide out of the bed and let you wake up on your own.”

A thick sigh stirred her hair. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.

“You won’t hurt me.” She believed the truth in her statement with everything she was. “Believe me. I know.”

“I wouldn’t mean to hurt you, but you’re so small.” He shifted as if to slide from the bed.

She grabbed his arm and held tight. “I’m much stronger than you think.” Even if he did lash out, she could handle it. “Trust me.”

“Hmmm.” He relaxed against her.

“I understand how much you like to be in control, and I know this is scary for you.” She wiggled a little more. “You’re incredibly brave to face this, and I’m honored to be here.” God, she wished her demons could be faced down, like his. Hers resulted from her own stupidity, and there was nothing she could do but outrun them. “I…care about you, Quinn.”

He rolled her over and smoothed hair from her face. “I care about you, too. This is going somewhere, Juliet.”

Her heart shattered.

She blinked and opened her mouth to say something. Anything.

He grinned. “No hurry, sweetheart.”

“I know we’re good together. But it doesn’t change—”

“Change what?” His eyebrows rose.

“You promised. No shadows tonight.”

He studied her. “You’re not married.”

Her eyes widened. “Of course not.”

He brushed a kiss across her nose. “Well then, anything else I can handle.”

If he only knew.

In her past, she ran drugs. Kind of. No big deal. No problem, right? Her heart hurt. “Night, Quinn. Sweet dreams.” She rolled over, sure she’d never sleep.

…

Morning arrived too soon, and a fully dressed sheriff shook her awake.

She sat up sleepily. “You didn’t have a nightmare?”

“Nope.” He lifted a shoulder. “We’ll have to try again.”

She forced a smile. A second chance wasn’t going to happen. Plus, her dreams were filled with an odd painter named Bob who kept telling her to give the truth to Quinn. While the imaginary guy may be correct, she’d make up her own mind. “Why are you dressed?”

“I had a call—need to go to work.” He leaned down and kissed her. Slow and deep. Finally, he stood back up. “Take your time. There’s coffee on, and I think there are bagels in the pantry. Maybe.”

She nodded. “I need to get to work, anyway. Sophie’s show was pushed up, and we have a lot to do.”

He reached in the night table drawer and grabbed a gun to tuck at his waist. “Tonight, Juliet. We talk.” With a hard look, he turned on his cowboy boot and left the room.

Well, that wasn’t good.

…

The rain drizzled the day into gray. Quinn tipped the brim of his hat to shake off the water, his boots sinking in the soggy weeds. The wind cut through his sheriff’s jacket as if it wanted to draw blood. An abandoned barn crumbled behind him, while a dead body lay before him. It had been a while since he’d seen a dead body.

Male, about six feet tall, long, blond hair. Maybe around thirty? “Bullet hole, back of the head,” Quinn murmured. “Execution style?”

“Probably.” DEA Agent Reese Johnson nodded to the state coroner. “You can take him.”

Federal evidence techs bustled around, collecting evidence from grass and dirt.

Reese’s phone buzzed, and he flipped the lid open. “Prints found a match. Leroy Vondoni, recently paroled from Rikers. Shouldn’t be out of New York state.”

“Rap sheet?” Quinn asked.

“Possession, robbery, intent to sell, assault, attempted murder.” Reese tapped his phone. “Nice guy.”

Why the hell was Vondoni in Maverick? More importantly— “While I appreciate you’re calling me in on this, why is the DEA in my county?” Quinn eyed a man he’d trust with his life…in fact, he had at one time. But that didn’t mean the DEA could set up camp in Montana.

Reese tucked his phone in his back pocket. “We got an anonymous tip the body would be here. An hour later, we were wheels up from LA, and here we are. I called from the plane the first chance I found.”

Quinn narrowed his gaze…and waited.

Reese watched the coroner load the body. “I was heading here anyway at the end of the week. Our sources have confirmed there’s a large shipment coming down from Canada, and we think Montana will be the entry point.”

“Drugs?” Irritation washed down Quinn’s throat. What he wouldn’t give for a couple of old guys running moonshine.

“Prescription.” Reese yanked off his Dodger cap and wiped his forehead. “The new front line. Oxy is more valuable than gold on the streets right now.”

“When?” Quinn asked.

“Don’t know. Gut feeling? Soon. What do you think, Sarge? Your gut has to be humming.”

“Sheriff,” Quinn said absently. His gut was fucking rolling. “Soon is right.”

Reese cleared his throat. “Are you going to fight me on jurisdiction?”

“No. I don’t have near the resources the feds do. That fingerprint-scanner thing is impressive as hell.”

“The machine is yours if we catch these guys.” The white scar Reese had earned in Iraq stood out on his forehead. “Though why you don’t take one of the many job offers you’ve received from federal law-enforcement agencies, I’ll never understand.”

“I’m home, and I like it here.” Usually. When there weren’t dead bodies dumped on forgotten acreage. “The DEA can have this case, but I want in. I want to know everything.”

“That means lunch is on you.”

Quinn gave a short nod. “Tell me this is the first body you’ve seen in connection with whatever’s going on.”

“Third.” Reese rubbed his chin. “These guys use people and then kill quickly. No witnesses.”

“Efficient.” Quinn headed for his truck. “Come into town. I have three deputies I want to bring in on this—we’ll keep it to a small task force.”

“Fair enough. I’ll drive with you. Fill me in on the family. Has Colton graduated yet?” Reese followed, turning to toss keys at another DEA agent before jumping into the rig.

“Just graduated.” Quinn started the engine. “He’s taking over as COO of Freeze-Lodge Investments, although he’s been running the financial end of everything for years.” Quinn grinned. “We wouldn’t give him the salary or the title until he graduated.”

“Still MMA fighting?”

“No. Though he’s a tough bastard. He fought for beer money and just a physical challenge, if you ask me. He’s the mellowest of us all.” Well, until his very long fuse blew. Then everyone got out of the way.

“I caught one of his fights on ESPN late at night. He was brutal.” Reese settled into the seat. “With all that money, why do you work the ranch and sport a gun?”

“What else would I do? Sit around and read ledgers?” Quinn mock shivered.

Reese laughed. “Good enough. So, what’s new with you?”

Everything. “Not much.”

“Seeing anyone?”

Hell, yes. Quinn lifted a shoulder. “You’ll meet her, I’m sure. How about you?”

“Hell, no.” Reese shifted his gun away from his hip. “I learned my lesson.”

Quinn chuckled. Sometimes romance snuck up and bit a guy on the ass whether he liked it or not. “How does a hoagie from Mrs. Johnson’s homemade deli sound?”

“Excellent.”

“Good. Now start talking. I need to know how much danger my people are in.” Quinn pulled onto the country road.