Page 15 of His Wisconsin Wallflower
“Raisa!” his mother exclaimed, looking up from the desk with a smile that brightened the room. “It’s so nice to see you. How are you doing?”
“Hello, Mrs. Carrington.” Raisa’s beautiful and sweet smile appeared. “I’m fine. How are you?”
Before his mother could answer, Corbin emerged from the back, his usual grin firmly in place. “Hey, big bro. Raisa.” He nodded at her.
“Shouldn’t you be at the Nicholson farmhouse, today?”
“No. Gavin is working on the old farmhouse renovations, today. I came in to help you with the books.”
Quinten frowned. “Well, oh, okay. And how about Gavin’s assignment?”
“We gave that to Bill Oswood and his crew.”
Raisa perked up at the mention of Bill. “Bill is a great craftsman. He helped with some renovations in the shop a few years back. The man for sure knows what he’s doing.”
“True.” Quinten nodded absently, before turning back to his brother. “Raisa offered to lend a hand, too.” He led them both into the office and took Raisa’s coat, before leading her to the desk piled high with ledgers and papers. His thoughts lingered on her smile, the way her face lit up when she said hello to his mother.
Forcing his mind to the business at hand, he offered Raisa the chair. “Let’s see if we can find where things don’t add up.” Pressing a few symbols on the keyboard he booted the computer and navigated to the accounting program.
With the bare minimum of explanation, Raisa was handling the mouse and keyboard like it was something she did daily. A few times, she asked for clarification, but he never had to explain something twice to her.
While she flipped through the records and crosschecked numbers on the computer, Quinten admired her tenacity. He couldn’t help but watch her, the way her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed together when she found something interesting or the way the point of her pink tongue would touch her upper lip before slipping away in an instant.
The memory of their kiss the other night surged back, and his pulse quickened. He’d wanted more then, and the thought of her focused intensity transported his mind dangerously close to uncharted territory. Did she bring that same focus to everything she did—to her work, to the numbers in those ledgers… to lovemaking?
She paused, pointing to a line item. “This payment to Bill Oswood … the account number isn’t right.”
Quinten leaned closer, his knee brushing hers under the desk. The touch sent a jolt of lust straight to his groin, but he ignored his impulses and focused on the matter at hand. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Raisa leaned back and nodded. “I told you he worked on the bakery. I remember his account number.”
“You remember his account number?” Quinten almost slurred the words as he tried to wrap his head around that nugget of info.
Are you kidding me?
“That’s as impressive as it is unbelievable.”
She shrugged. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze and murmured, “I have an eidetic memory.”
He stared at her for a moment, then let out a laugh.This woman!“Thank you!” He gripped her cheeks and pulled her in for a hard kiss before releasing her. Resting his forehead against her, he whispered, “You never cease to amaze me.”
Color crept over her face and spread to her ears and neck. Now he wanted to make her blush more often. He grinned when she quickly focused back on the records.
Chapter Ten
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows of the Carrington family dining room and cast long shadows over the table where Quinten sat. The room seemed smaller than usual, filled with the murmurs of his parents, Corbin, and Gavin as they settled into their seats. He’d called the meeting to address the chaos brewing within the family and the business, but his mind was elsewhere.
Raisa had refused to come.
“I’m not part of the family,” she had said firmly, folding her arms in that quiet but unyielding way of hers. Quinten had protested, pointing out how much she had already helped, but Raisa wouldn’t budge. Now, as his family gathered around him, he wondered what she was doing. Was she at the shop, tallying numbers, or taking a break with one of her secret notebooks? The thought of her sitting cross-legged in a corner, scribbling away, made his chest tighten. She was too good to be dragged into this mess, yet he missed having her here.
He cleared his throat and addressed the room. “Let’s start with the update from the police.”
His brother leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly on the table. “Still no sign of Vanessa.” The knuckles of his fingers turned white. “No cash withdrawals, no traffic camera sightings. They checked her home, and it looks like she left voluntarily. A suitcase and some clothes are missing, as well as toiletries from her bathroom.”
“Convenient,” Gavin muttered, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Did they find anything else?” his dad asked. He seemed to be having a good day, and there was even some color in his cheeks.
