Just Desserts by Tricia Quinnies Read Free Book Online

breasts. While his stubble brushed against her nipples, the friction set off smooth vibrations. Her entire body relaxed. She couldn’t recall when or if she’d ever been so content.
    Despite Quinn’s full weight on her, she felt lighter. Happier. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep until he jostled about—slow to come to from his sex-induced coma. He lifted his head from her bosom.
    She anxiously waited for him to, look at her, give her a batch of his luscious kisses, and one on her lips.
    Nothing. He rolled off her.
    Quinn hopped up and stood without looking at her, but scratched his arms like she’d given him some kind of rash. She grabbed her black muumuu and used it as a shield to hide her bare body, suddenly vulnerable. She needn’t bother. Quinn dressed without a word, hardly recognizing that another human being breathed in the kitchen with him.
    Sadie stood, speedily slipped the dress over her head, and splashed water on her face. Patting her face dry with an awful piece of paper towel, she couldn’t tamper her growing indignation and anger. When she turned, Quinn was scrolling through his messages on his iPhone. When he laughed, she lost it.
    “Hey, Quinn…remember me?”
    Any normal, considerate person would respond immediately but Quinn gave her a, hold- on-a-minute-finger, tucked the phone at his ear to listen, and went into the deserted dining room.
    Sadie flipped him the bird, dragged in a breath to keep from falling apart. She stared out the kitchen window over the sink and counted her breaths until her reality slipped back into place. In the reflection, she looked at Quinn lazily leaning against the dining room table.
    “Sadie, I have to get back to the Wrigley place.” He glanced at his watch.
    She turned around. “That’s it? Wham bam, not even a thank you ma’am? Wow, that’s arctic.”
    He fumbled with his phone.
    She began shaking. A bitterness she’d never tasted before seeped into her being. “Laughton, you’ll never get your hands on our diner. My father won’t take too kindly to you. When he hears that you did his daughter on the kitchen floor, he won’t speak to you, much less sell you the damn diner! ”
    He picked up his boots, which she hadn’t noticed he’d taken off earlier, and left.
    The screen door squealed and then slammed shut.
    Alone in the kitchen, she forced herself to finish the cookies, one by one, rolling into balls and drudging them in rock sugar.
    At midnight she crawled into bed. The heavy weight she’d lost for a precious few minutes lying beneath Quinn found her again.

Chapter Six
     
    Quinn had lain awake all night. He had behaved despicably toward Sadie and punished himself with sleep deprivation. The sun had barely shown when he’d driven to the diner. Parking the Jeep around the corner, he had stayed partially hidden by a line of trees on the side street and kept a vigilant watch for Sadie.
    Last night, he’d been a blockhead and still couldn’t figure out what to say or do when he saw Sadie. But he’d start with an apology, if she took the time to stop and listen to him.
    Excuses muddled his brain, mostly lame and idiotic. When he had gone over to Maxon’s cottage, he just wanted to make sure Sadie hadn’t gone off the deep end over that shithead Bryan.
    Had his brain frozen when he’d first walked into her kitchen? He clearly recalled the velvety touch of Sadie’s fingers.
    Quinn abruptly sat up in the Jeep and hit his head on the visor shade. It dawned in his pea-sized brain that he’d lost himself in her lush sea green eyes. Of course, it was afterward that he hadn’t been able to get a grip on his mojo.
    And the diner—did he really fool himself into thinking he had the upper hand?
    But then he’d slid into her heat and like a teen, came inside her. It was clear that he’d derailed and got off track.
    Quinn chuckled at his word choice, remembering Sadie’s fondness for transportation clichés.
    He had acted like