“This isn’t a joke.” Cara’s voice lowered to a scolding boil.
“I’ll be fine. I can’t leave the hunky Scot to fend for himself. He’s not equipped. Not until I figure out what’s going on.”
“Quinn Elizabeth.”
“That doesn’t even work when Mom is mad.” Quinn chuckled. “Collin needs a savior, so I’m going to give him one.”
“Quinn, be reasonable. You don’t know what you’re up against, and you don’t know those people. They could all be psycho crazy killers. Come home.”
“I can’t. Not even if I wanted to, but you’re right. I might not know what I’m up against, but I do know three ghosts that can give me all the juicy details. Gotta go, sis, love you, and if I die, you get my shoe collection and you can say you were right.”
“Quinnnnnn,”
Cara meant well, but was it bad that all Quinn heard was blah, blah, blah? Cara was blood. She should know better than most that Quinn would do things her way. Changing her mind wasn’t easily achieved. She’d been talked into it once and her ex fiancé had paid the ultimate price and lost his life. Never again. Danny was a prime example of what happened when her gut instincts weren’t heeded. His handsome face flashed before her eyes, making her heart clench and her stomach roll. It was hard to believe that five years had passed since that fateful night when he’d turned her life upside down. She’d survived losing him; she’d damn sure survive Scotland.
Quinn left the office, stopping Abby in the hall. “Do you drive?”
“No, miss, but Angus does, and he’s in the kitchen?”
Quinn wasn’t stranded and at anyone’s mercy. Hallefreakinlujah. There was a God, and at the moment, he was on her side. “Thank you.” Quinn all but sang the words.
“Would you like me to show you the way?” she asked.
“Nope, I’ll find it but thanks for your help.”
Ten minutes later, after multiple wrong turns and questionable looks, Quinn followed the delicious smell of fresh-baked bread until she finally found the kitchen.
Angus had a woman wrapped in his arms, engaging in a sensuous lip lock with both hands squeezing her backside. Quinn would have been embarrassed, but she was too stunned that the old coot was getting some action.
“That better be Mrs. Angus, or I’m telling your wife to double your chores.”
The couple pulled apart. The white-haired woman’s cheeks were as pink as the stew meat on the counter ready to be tossed into the pot. She smoothed her hair with one hand and playfully tapped Angus on the arm with the other. Thank God Quinn had gotten there when she had. She’d need to bleach her eyes if she’dcaught them getting busy on the counter. Some things just couldn’t be unseen.
“Aye. You must be Quinn Thatcher, my new best friend. I’m Mavis, the keeper of Angus’ chore list.”
A giddiness claimed Quinn, and her grin grew. This woman was the creator of the amazing muffins. No wonder Angus was getting frisky. “Your muffins have ruined me from enjoying the processed foods back home, but no matter. I have every intention of sneaking you back into the States.” Quinn knocked Angus on the arm. “You can come too.”
“I like you, Quinn Thatcher,” Mavis said, picking up a plate of cookies. She held it out to Quinn. “I baked you some American cookies to make you feel more at home.”
“Mavis, dear, she just had breakfast,” Angus said as he moved to take the plate.
“You’ve got to be quicker than that, old man,” Quinn said, snatching the entire plate out of his reach. She coveted the chocolate chip cookies as if they were the oxygen she needed to survive. She took a bite into the warm cookie. The melted chocolate coated her tongue. Her eyes closed in bliss, and she might have moaned. She’d never tasted anything so divine. “It’s dangerous to stand between a woman and dessert.”
“I’ll have to remember that,” Collin said as he entered the kitchen. He took a cookie from the plate and inhaled his in two bites. He went to take another one and Mavis grabbed the plate. “You’ll ruin your lunch.”
“He will, but I won’t,” Quinn said while slipping another one from the plate. A spatula came down against the top of her hand, but no amount of pain from the cookie warden could have made her drop that cookie. “I don’t suppose you know how to make pizza, do you?”
Mavis’ eyes twinkled as though she held all kinds of culinary knowledge over mere mortals. She probably did.
“I hear you need a ride,” Collin asked.
“Oh yeah.” Quinn had gone momentarily brain dead, first with Angus’ kissing escapades, and then because of savoring the melting chocolate chips. She’d had her fair share of cookies and chocolate but nothing as orgasmic as Mavis’ treats. It was official; Quinn was taking Mavis home with her if she had to beg, borrow, or steal. It didn’t take much to make her happy. “The voyeurism and food made me forget. Had I known Mavis was such a great cook, I would have bartered her for the emerald.”
“I wouldnae have traded, but I’d consider time share.” Collin laughed, and Quinn broke the cookie in half and held itup to his lips, rewarding him like a child willing to share his toys.
“Mmmm.” He mumbled as he chewed. “Where’d you need to go?”
“Into town to grab my bags and buy some more clothes. I hadn’t expected to stay an entire week or more.”
