Page 71 of With A Little Luck
Easton made a point of calling Ridge cheap, and if he’s buying anything, it really should be for Quincy or the baby.
Dammit.
I’m moody.
Even I don’t know what will set my system at ease.
“If you see Hartley, tell him I could use some help if he has a minute. I’m going to need more than just Knox to help me carry all that shit inside once it gets here.” Ridge takes off toward the door.
“Find a way to convince Quincy to quit her job,” I say to his back. “Otherwise, I’ll burn Hartley’s family restaurant to the ground to ensure she’s not continually straining her body. She has no need for the meager amount of money she earns in tips.”
In reality, I won’t do it, but a highly sought after arsonist owes me a favor. It won’t be easy to replace, so I’ve held on to that marker for several years, and I would still call it in without question.
I could burn the restaurant down on my own, but Flick has the ability to make it look like an accident.
I dislike Hartley.
I have no ill will toward his family. The least I can do would be to make sure they can cash in on the insurance payout.
Ridge stops dead in his tracks and turns around. “One of these days, Quincy is going to see you for who you really are.”
“She already has.” A cutting smile crosses my face. “She still doesn’t fear me, because she can sense that she has no reason to.”
“You might be crazier than your fucking brother,” Ridge mutters.
My eyes narrow. “Don’t worry. I’ll broach the conversation with her myself.”
“Oh yeah,” he scoffs. “That’ll go over great. Just make sure Hartley is around to hear it.”
Shrugging, I shove out of my chair. “If everything goes to plan, he’ll be busy with you. Now, won’t he?”
“I’m going to check on my dog.” Ridge sighs, spinning around and walking to the door. “If you see Quincy, let her know breakfast is on the stove.”
I’m apparently on my own for nutrition.
Ridge must get the call he’s been waiting for. He and Knox put on their coats and exit through the garage. I continue monitoring the cameras, watching as Hartley helps Quincy into her outfit for the day.
My head tilts, and I contemplate whether I should turn up the heat. She ends up in a sweater, a dress, and leggings. That is way more layers than she ever wore at her house. However, what she said about being appropriately dressed in someone else’s home rings in my mind.
I close my laptop, perfectly planning my interception. Let’s see how Hartley enjoys that.
“Good morning.” I nod, stepping out of my room and closing the door behind me. Focusing on the annoying alpha, I continue. “Ridge and Knox are outside, but Ridge asked me to send you out if I saw you. He said they could use another set of hands.” My message has been delivered, so I slide my gaze to Quincy. “There’s breakfast on the counter. I’ll be happy to keep you company while they’re busy.”
“I am starving,” Quincy says, smiling. “This is perfect. I was actually hoping to find a few minutes to talk to you alone.” She looks at Hartley. “If that’s okay with you?”
His teeth grind together, and after a nearly uncomfortable pause, he nods. “Yeah, where do I find them?”
“Head out through the garage. I believe you should see a delivery truck.” I smile as politely as I’m capable of, but I’m sure he can sense that it’s a victory grin.
“I’ll find you once I’m done,” Hart murmurs.
The man must have a death wish. He shoves his tongue into Quincy’s mouth, and the two share a never-ending kiss.
I’m just debating how traumatized Quincy would be if I stabbed him in front of her when they finally separate. He pats her ass and gives her stomach a gentle caress before jogging toward the stairs.
Hopefully he forgets to put his jacket on and catches pneumonia.
He’s barely out of earshot when Quincy quirks an eyebrow.
