Quinn's Woman by Susan Mallery Read Free Book Online Page B

be better.”

    “Aren’t you good enough to get the job done?”

    “Yes, but I want to be better than good enough. I want to be the best.”

    “There is no best.”

    Of course there was, she thought. There always was. She worked her butt off to make sure it was her most of the time.

    “I’ll pay you,” she said.

    He smiled then. “Thanks, but I’m not interested. Take care, D.J.”

    And then he was gone. He simply walked out of the tent without looking back.

    She watched him go and decided right then she was going to get him to change his mind. She didn’t know how, but she would convince Quinn Reynolds to teach her what he knew. She would be stronger, faster, smarter, and finally the ghosts would be laid to rest.

    Two days later D.J. still hadn’t come up with a plan. What on earth would a man like Quinn want that she could give him? She’d paced most of the night, and when that hadn’t cleared her mind, she’d awakened early for a three-mile run. Now she prowled her back room, pausing occasionally to jab at the punching bag in the corner.

    “I can see you’re in a temper this morning. Want to talk about it?”

    D.J. turned toward the voice and saw Rebecca Lucas standing in the doorway of her workout room. She held a thermos in one hand and a pink bakery box in the other. D.J.’s spirits lightened immediately.

    “Danish?” she asked, heading toward her friend.

    “Of course. Don’t I always bring Danish?”

    “You’re a good woman.”

    “I know.”

    Rebecca led the way to the main office, where she set the box on the front desk and opened the thermos.

    “So what has you all crabby this morning?” she asked as she poured coffee into two mugs. “If you were anyone else, I would swear it was man trouble.”

    “It is, but not the romantic kind.”

    Rebecca handed her the coffee. “Too bad. You need a man in your life.”

    “Right. That would be as useful to me as inheriting a toxic waste dump.”

    Rebecca tsked softly as she poured more coffee for herself, opened the bakery box and pushed it toward D.J.

    D.J. grabbed a napkin, then a cheese Danish. The first bite was heaven. The second, even better. She slowly chewed the flaky, sticky, sweet pastry.

    Rebecca took one for herself and nibbled daintily. As usual, all conversation ceased until they’d each downed at least one Danish and felt the kick-start, blood-sugar rush of refined carbohydrates and frosting.

    D.J. finished first and licked her fingers. Rebecca dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

    They couldn’t be more different, D.J. thought affectionately. Rebecca was all girl, from her long, curly hair to her wardrobe of soft, flowing, floral-print dresses. She wore foolish shoes, delicate jewelry and wouldn’t be caught dead in town without makeup.

    “You’re looking at my dress,” Rebecca said when she’d finished her Danish. “You hate it.”

    “No. It’s great.”

    D.J. studied the light-blue flowers scattered on a white background, the lace at the edge of the collar and the tight, puffy sleeves, while trying desperately not to wince.

    “I just don’t understand why you have to dress so...girly.”

    Rebecca took another Danish. “We don’t all need to look as if we’d just come from a sale at the army surplus store. Olive green isn’t my color. Besides, Austin likes how I dress.”

    End of argument, D J. told herself. If Austin mentioned he would like the rotation of the earth changed, Rebecca would set out to see what she could do to make that happen. She adored her husband past the point of reason. D.J. found the situation palatable only because Austin was a good man – weren’t those few and far between? – and he loved his wife just as completely. D.J. believed down to her bones that if someone tried to hurt Rebecca, Austin would rip that person into stamp-size pieces.

    Rebecca looked her over, making D.J. aware of her camouflage pants and heavy boots.

    “You’re expecting a war