Under the Covers by Rebecca Zanetti Read Free Book Online Page B

broken, a painting is down, and I heard a noise up here. So, I grabbed the bat and came upstairs.”
    Quinn stilled. Tension vibrated through the room. “Let me get this straight. You noticed signs of a fight, of danger, and your logical choice was to grab a bat and come upstairs.”
    “Um—” Dawn took a step back.
    Juliet fought the urge to hide her face under the bedspread. “I’m so sorry, Dawn.”
    The woman shuffled her feet. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—I mean, that you and Quinn—well, I mean—”
    “Go away,” Quinn muttered. Then he frowned. “Why didn’t you call for help before coming upstairs?”
    Dawn’s eyes widened just as heavy boots pounded up the stairs. Jake rushed into the room followed by Colton, their younger brother. Both men wore faded jeans, work gloves, and thick shirts. They’d obviously been working the ranch.
    Dawn giggled. “I did call for help.”
    Oh, God. Heat shot into Juliet’s face so quickly her skin burned. She pulled the sheet over her head.
    Jake’s laugh rang through the room.
    “I’m going to arrest all three of you for trespass if you don’t get the hell out of here,” Quinn barked.
    The sound of a door closing was a prelude for a moment of silence before laughter echoed down the hallway stairs. Quinn tugged on the sheet.
    Juliet held onto the heavy cotton with all of her might.
    “Juliet? They’re gone.”
    It didn’t matter. She’d never live the last few moments down. Good thing she was leaving town. Soon.

Chapter Five
    Juliet settled more comfortably in the kitchen chair, her gaze on the half-naked warrior cooking dinner. “I think we may have blinded your sister for life.”
    Quinn chuckled and stirred the scrambled eggs. “I’d prefer not to think about it again.” The muscles in his impressive arms shifted as he reached for salt and pepper to dump on the eggs. He wore scars on his back, and it hurt she wouldn’t have time to get close enough to ask about them. But she had the night, and she was going to enjoy what she could. He’d thrown on jeans but had left his torso and feet bare. Very masculine. “If I hadn’t been nude, I probably would’ve smashed both Jake’s and Colton’s heads together for not leaving right away.” While the words emerged tough, obvious affection lived in them.
    “You and your siblings seem close.” Juliet picked at a loose thread on the shirt she’d borrowed.
    “We are.” Quinn removed the pan and slid eggs onto two plates. Delivering one to her, he grabbed a plate of buttered toast. “You don’t have siblings?”
    “No.” Not really, anyway. She eyed the eggs. “These look fantastic.”
    “Thanks.” He sat and tossed her a napkin. “Eggs are the only thing I know how to cook. Well, besides Christmas cookies.”
    Juliet unfolded the napkin on her lap. “Christmas cookies?”
    He grinned. “Yeah. Leila and I have a tradition of making Christmas cookies shaped like sheriff stars every year. It’s our, ah, thing.”
    Talk about the sweetest thing Juliet had ever heard. “You’re a softy, Sheriff.”
    “Humph.” He dug into his eggs. “Why the gallery, Juliet?”
    She paused. “What do you mean?”
    “The gallery? There are tons of businesses you could open, and you choose a Western art gallery in a small Montana town. Why?” Lazy intelligence glimmered in his eyes.
    The need to confide in him surprised a grin out of her. “I love art. Love paintings, drawings, sculptures—even comic books. But, no matter how hard I tried, I never had talent.” She took a sip of water. “Skill, maybe. But not the talent so few have that amazes anyone who looks.”
    He nodded. “So you decided to surround yourself with art.”
    “Exactly.” For the first time in a month, her shoulders relaxed. “I do have a good head for business, and I have an eye for other people’s talent. That works.”
    “Do you still paint?”
    “No. But I do sculpt once in a while. Just for me, and just for fun.”