The Mighty Quinns: Devin (4 page)

Sadly, Elodie was probably the last Winchester who'd set foot in Winchester. And in a week or two, she'd go back to the life she'd built for herself. There was nothing for her here except this house, and she'd already said she was willing to give it away.

And yet, what could it hurt to enjoy the short time they had together? It might ruffle some feathers, but once she was gone, he could smooth those down. Right now, he was grateful for small miracles—especially the one that had brought her back into his life.

* * *

E
LODIE
WOKE
TO
the sound of thunder. She rubbed her eyes, surprised that she'd managed to sleep at all. The empty house was filled with odd noises, rattles and thumps and snaps that were no longer familiar. And her mind had been racing all day long, from the moment she'd set eyes on Dev Cassidy.

With a groan, she sat up in bed and scrubbed her face with her hands. A breeze buffeted the lace curtains on the window, and she flopped back and enjoyed the cool wind teasing her damp skin. She'd forgotten how hot the summers were in the South, how still the air became before a thunderstorm. She'd also forgotten how sweet the smell of flowers drifting on the air could be—honeysuckle and jasmine and wisteria. And most of all, she'd forgotten how easily Dev Cassidy could occupy her mind.

By most standards, they'd had an almost chaste relationship as teenagers. Though they'd danced around the edge of what might be considered sex, they'd never given in to those urges. Elodie had been terrified of pregnancy and Dev had been terrified of her father. But now, as a fully experienced woman, Elodie couldn't help but wonder what surprises and pleasures a night in bed with Dev might yield.

Even fully dressed, it was clear that he had a beautiful body. And he'd always been kind and generous, and even as a seventeen-year-old, his kissing skills had been exemplary. He'd known how to use his tongue and his lips to great effect. She wondered if he'd become even more of an expert over the years.

Thunder rumbled again, and few seconds later a flash of lightning illuminated the room. Elodie swung her legs off the bed and pulled a light cotton dress from her bag. Tugging the fabric over her head, she walked to the window overlooking the street.

The wind rustled the towering maples that lined the curb. Her gaze came to rest on a car parked in front of the house. Elodie frowned. It was a police cruiser. Was Dev having her watched? Was he afraid those men might come back in the middle of the night? If he was, why hadn't he warned her?

Elodie hurried downstairs and threw open the front door. The first spattering of rain began to hit the porch floor. She stepped out into the storm, running across the lawn. When she reached the car, she stood in front of the police car.

“What are you doing out here?” she shouted above the wind and the storm.

Dev slowly got out of the car, his hand braced along the top of the door. “I couldn't sleep.”

“I couldn't, either,” she shouted.

It was all he needed. He stepped toward her and before she knew it, she was in his arms, his hands smoothing over the rain-soaked fabric of her dress. His lips covered hers in a desperate, deeply powerful kiss.

Nothing about this reminded her of the past. This passion between them was fresh and raw and filled with undeniable need. His fingers tangled in her hair and he molded her mouth to his, still searching for something even more intimate.

The fabric of her dress clung to her skin, a feeble barrier to his touch. She might as well have been naked.

Elodie fought the urge to reach for the hem of her dress and pull it over her head. They were on a public street, with houses all around. Someone might be up at this hour, watching the storm.

“Come with me,” she murmured, her fingers skimming over his face. She laced her fingers through his and pulled him toward the house.

Once they reached the protection of the veranda, where it was dark and none of the neighbors would see them, he grabbed her waist again, pulling her into another kiss. Dev smoothed his hand up her torso until he found her breast and he cupped it, his thumb teasing at her taut nipple.

He was impossible to resist. She couldn't form a single rational thought, even if her life depended upon it. Every reaction to his touch and kiss, to his taste and smell, was purely instinct.

Elodie reached for the hem of his shirt, but it was tucked in his trousers and his belt was hidden by his leather utility belt. “Take this off,” she murmured, frantically searching for the buckle.

She stood back and watched as he carefully unclipped his gun and set it on a nearby table. A moment later, his utility belt dropped to the ground, followed by his badge and, finally, his shirt.

Her palms skimmed over hard muscle and smooth skin. His shoulders, once slight, were now broad, his torso a perfect vee.

Dev dragged her into his arms again, cupping her face in his hands as he kissed her.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured. “I'll give you anything you ask for.”

She wanted him deep inside her, moving slowly, their bodies melding into one. But she had surrendered so quickly. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours. Though she'd always been able to trust him with her heart, for Elodie, this was something more.

In the fantasies she'd imagined of them making love, it had always been perfection between them, the ultimate joining of desire and romance, of need and satisfaction. It all clicked as if they'd been made for each other all along.

But what if the fantasy was nothing like reality?

Dev reached for the hem of her dress and bunched it in his fists, pulling it higher and higher until it was twisted around her waist. He gently pushed her back against the door, and she moaned as his fingertips skimmed the soft skin of her inner thigh.

Wild sensations raced through her body and she trembled as she anticipated what would come next. When he slipped his fingers between her legs, delving into the soft heat he found there, Elodie moaned.

Every nerve in her body trembled with pleasure, and she was grateful for his arm around her waist. Her legs felt weak and her knees wobbly. The only safe place for them both was her bed, but she wasn't sure they'd be able to make it all the way upstairs without being overwhelmed by their need.

A moment later, she didn't care. As he slowly began to stroke her, she could no longer think. Her attention was solely focused on his touch, on the sensations his fingers created as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

His touch took her higher and higher, until her whole body trembled in anticipation.

When her release finally came, it stole her breath away, her body twisting and shuddering beneath his hand. She gasped with each spasm, caught up in the pleasure and barely aware of her surroundings. The intensity was almost more than she could bear, and she finally pressed her hand against his chest. “Stop,” she pleaded. “I'm going to fall over.”

“I have you,” he said. “I won't let go.”

She sank against him, and he scooped her up into his arms and opened the door, carrying her toward the stairs. But then his radio split the silence. “Winchester zero-one, this is county dispatch. Winchester zero-one, this is dispatch, come in.”

Dev cursed beneath his breath. “Can you stand, Elodie?”

Elodie nodded and he placed her back on her feet. She watched as he retrieved his radio from where he'd left his utility belt. “This is Winchester zero-one. Go ahead, dispatch.”

“We have a 10-50 on River Road one half mile north of the Quentin Gap Bridge. Paramedics en route. Please provide backup for Yancey County six-nine.”

“I'm on my way, dispatch. Winchester zero-one, over.”

Dev picked up his shirt and tugged it over his head. “I have to go,” he said.

“What is it?”

“A traffic accident. About seven miles out of town.”

“Is it serious?”

“I'm not sure. I'll find out when I get there. Will you be all right?”

Elodie nodded. “I—I'm fine. Will you come back?”

“If I can, I will.” He fastened his utility belt around his waist, then clipped his gun holster to it. In just a few long strides, he crossed the entry hall and pulled her into his arms. His lips came down on hers and he left her with a soul-shattering kiss.

“How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on work now?”

“Try?” she said.

He chuckled softly, then stole one last kiss before heading out the door. Elodie slowly lowered herself to sit on the bottom stair, plucking at her damp dress until it hung loosely around her legs.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought the day would turn out this way. But now that it had, Elodie had to wonder whether there was anything that would entice her to leave Winchester again.

* * *

T
HE
SUN
WAS
already well over the eastern horizon when Dev and the boys from the county sheriff's office finished up the investigation of the accident. They'd found open containers in each car and had determined that both drivers had been at the same party and had challenged each other to a road race.

Unfortunately, both of the boys had ended up racing to the trauma center in Asheville in a Flight-for-Life helicopter. Though they'd both been conscious when found, Dev knew that didn't always mean a good outcome.

His handheld squawked, and he glanced at his watch then waited for Sally's voice. “Winchester zero-one, this is dispatch.”

“Mornin', Sally,” he said.

“Mornin', boss. I just had a call from Elodie Winchester. She said someone just threw a brick through her front window. Do you want to take this or should I send Kyle?”

Dev cursed beneath his breath. “I've got it.” Though he'd spent most of the early-morning hours focused on the accident investigation, there had been moments when his thoughts had shifted back to what had happened in the mansion on Wisteria Street.

The attraction between them was undeniable, but the fact that they'd chosen to act on it so quickly was what had rattled him. It had been over ten years since they'd last seen each other, and yet it seemed as if barely a week had passed. All the old feelings were still there, the crazy, urgent need and the sense that they were hurtling toward something neither one of them could handle.

And yet, they were adults now and fully responsible for their actions. He'd given her every chance to refuse his advances and she'd just invited him to take more. Nothing had changed. Yet, everything had changed. He was responsible for her safety; he'd gone to the house to protect her, not seduce her on the porch of her house.

Dev pulled the cruiser out onto the highway and flipped on the lights and sirens. He had suspected that the anger toward Elodie wouldn't subside. He should have put another cruiser in front of her house. People in town had suffered deep wounds because of the Winchester family and they finally had someone—a flesh-and-blood person—to blame.

But it wasn't just blame. They wanted retribution, to make sure the Winchesters experienced pain as they'd experienced pain, and Dev wasn't about to let that happen. He was as angry as any of them at old man Winchester and his sons, who had all mismanaged the mill. But Elodie hadn't even been living in the town when the worst of it had gone down. Their teenage infatuation had ensured that.

Dev turned off the siren as he rolled into town. There was no traffic to contend with on his way to Elodie's street; the townsfolk were just starting to rise for the day ahead. He skidded to a stop beneath a cool canopy of trees and jumped out of the cruiser, then hurried up the brick walk.

He found Elodie sitting in a wicker rocker on the porch, sipping at a mug of coffee. Next to her, Jeb Baylor was sprawled in the opposite chair, his chin buried in his chest, a loud snore breaking the silence with every breath he took. She smiled as Dev approached.

He took the steps two at a time and crossed to her as she stood. Gathering her into his arms, he gave her a fierce hug. “What the hell is going on here?”

“It's nothing. He was drunk and upset.”

“Jeb threw the brick?”

Elodie nodded. “Yes. He was shouting and I invited him up to the porch for coffee so we could talk about his concerns. But when I got back with the coffee, he was asleep. I was afraid to wake him.”

Dev pressed his lips against her forehead, the sweet scent of her hair teasing at his nose. “You're safe. That's all I care about.”

“What are we going to do with him? I don't want you to put him in jail. He was drunk and I don't blame him for being angry.”

“He'll have to pay for the property damage,” Dev said.

Elodie nodded.

Dev pulled his radio off his belt. “Winchester dispatch, this is zero-one.”

“What's up, boss?”

“Call Jenny Baylor and have her come by the Winchester mansion to get her husband.”

“Got it.”

Dev turned back to Elodie, gently taking the mug from her hand. He took a long sip of the barely warm brew and sighed. “Do you think I could have a cup of that? Only one that's very hot?”

“Sure,” Elodie said. She started toward the door, then paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “I don't know how you like your coffee. You didn't drink coffee when you were younger.”

“Black,” Dev said.

“Of course. Black,” she murmured.

Dev walked to the opposite end of the porch, then removed his utility belt and hung it over the rail. The porch swing beckoned, and he sat down and sighed softly. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. But sleep wasn't waiting for him.

Images of Elodie swirled in his head, her body clothed, her body naked, her hair drawn away from her face, then tumbling around her shoulders. She'd been home less than twenty-four hours and he was already obsessed.