Page 14 of Hot Lovin'

I’m not sure what’s happened since the night we were shot at, but Quinn has been distant. He’s all business now, a far cry from the man who kissed me so passionately that night and in my office.

Has he changed his mind about pursuing whatever this is between us? It’s not like I have any claim on him, and it was my suggestion we keep things casual, fearing that any personal involvement between Quinn and me would jeopardize Aiden’s case.

But we had such a great time together on our “not-a-date” before the whole almost-dying thing. Then I asked him to kiss me, and I thought we were on the same page, that it was one of those near-death situations that makes you realize what’s important and what isn’t. And Quinn is… important to me.

“Evening, Lottie,” he greets, his gaze sweeping over me in my pink blouse and jeans.

“Quinn, come on in.” I step aside, but not before our fingers graze, sending sparks up my arm. I hide the shiver by busying myself with leading him to the living room.

“Everything all right?” he asks, his brows drawing together as he scans the space, ensuring all is in order.

“Mr. Bear decided to go AWOL, but we negotiated his safe return. Crisis averted.” I attempt humor because if I don’t, I might crumble under the weight of reality.

“Good work, detective.” His lips twitch, and I swear I see the ghost of a smile, the first one he’s gifted me in weeks.

I count every one he gives me as a victory, partial or otherwise, and wonder, not for the first time, what made this incredibly protective, loyal man so serious. Something tells me it’s due to more than his job.

“Thanks. I think I missed my calling.” I perch on the edge of the couch, watching as Aiden shows Quinn the pictures he painted at pre-K with the pride of a king presenting his crown jewels.

“You’re settling into your new role well,” Quinn murmurs, sitting on the sofa as Aiden heads to his room for more toys.

“He’s important to me,” I admit, fierce protectiveness rising within me like a dragon waking from slumber.

“Lottie—”

I shake my head, cutting him off. “Can’t talk about it now, not with little ears around.”

I tilt my head toward Aiden, who reappears with more stuffed toys. He arranges them on the couch with Mr. Bear, his expression as serious as a general positioning his troops.

“Understood.” Quinn nods, and we leave it at that.

I sneak glances at Quinn as we watch Aiden play, noting the tension around his mouth and the hint of pain in his silver eyes. How many times has he witnessed scenes like this, knowing what he does about the things that happen behind closed doors?

For once, Quinn doesn’t seem in a hurry to leave, joining Aiden on the floor as they work on a jigsaw puzzle. My ovaries clench at the sight of them, the vulnerable boy who looks at the big, dark-haired sheriff with something akin to hero worship.

Later, after Aiden’s bedtime story has been read and he’s fallen into a—hopefully—nightmare-free sleep, Quinn double-checks the locks on the doors and windows. His thoroughness is comforting, and his presence fills the spaces with silent strength.

“Thanks for staying late,” I murmur as we stand awkwardly in the hallway, the quiet pressing in around us. “Aiden enjoys his time with you.” I lift my gaze to his. “I do, too.”

Quinn’s eyes lock onto mine, intense and unwavering. “I owe you an apology.”

My eyebrows rise in surprise. “For?”

“For pushing you away these last few weeks.” He pauses, raking a hand through his hair. “The truth is, Lottie, that night you were shot at scared the hell out of me. I’ve been doing this job for years. I know how to take care of myself, but you being in danger like that… Shit, you could’ve been killed.”

“I thought you’d changed your mind about me. I knew I should never have told you about Mr. Sips-a-lot.” It’s an attempt at humor, but I can’t conceal the thread of hurt in my voice.

“I’m sorry, Lottie. So fucking sorry. You mean a lot to me. You and Aiden. Your unwillingness to let him return to danger... it’s brave, Lottie. Reckless but brave. I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s… I’m used to being alone, of only having myself to think about, but now…” He trails off, seemingly unable to find the words. He looks at me, his eyes saying the things he can’t vocalize.

And suddenly, I understand. He cares. About Aiden. About me. And it terrifies him.

My voice is soft as I say, “Sometimes the line between reckless and brave is blurry, but it’s natural to fear for those you care about, Quinn.”

“Blurry or not, I’m here. No more pushing you away. I’ll help you protect him. Protect you both.”

His declaration is solemn. I believe him. I have to.

“Thank you.” My voice barely rises above a whisper, and the air between us crackles with unspoken words. I’m aware of how close he is, how every breath I take is laced with his scent, clean soap, and something ruggedly outdoorsy.

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