Best Worst Mistake (19 page)

“Wait, okay.” Quinn scrubbed her eyes. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. “Is this a nice surprise?”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” She reeled back, unable to keep her voice even semi-steady. “But how? I’m not even late and am taking birth control.”

“It’s very early.” The doctor’s mouth tilted at the right in a small half-smile. “The blood work was done as part of your physical last night. It can detect pregnancy six to eight days after ovulation.”

The examination table felt suddenly wobbly. “Are you sure?”

“Why don’t I leave you two alone?” the doctor said. “We’re not busy today so take as much time as you need.”

The door
opened and closed, and Quinn slowly lifted her gaze, unsure what to expect in Wilder’s eyes.

Chapter Twenty-One

T
HERE
WAS
A
long, awkward silence.

“Say something,” Quinn begged, taking his hand. “Please. A single word so I know you’re still alive.”

“Baby.” It didn’t seem real. Quinn pregnant?

“I really am on birth control,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t trying to trap you or anything. I guess there isn’t a perfect statistical track record with taking the pills
and—”

“Stop.” It was as if the smoke cleared and he finally saw his life’s purpose in crystal clarity. “Stop trying to explain.”

“I’m sorry.”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice. “Wait, I—”

“I can handle this on my own.” Her voice was flat.

“Handle this?” He took by both her shoulders. “In five minutes we’ve learned you won’t get sick and we are going to have a child.”

She nodded tearfully. “It’s a lot to take in.”

He pressed a hand against her cheek, running his thumb over her bottom lip. “The best damn day of my life.”

Her brows flew upward. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s one thing to call me Trouble as a joke but this will change everything for you.”

“I never thought this would happen. I’m scared shitless, but a family is what I’ve wanted more
than anything.” He pressed his other hand over her flat stomach. “After the fire I thought my purpose was gone. I didn’t realize that the past had to burn for a new future to grow. You. Us. This baby. This is my real life.”

“You’re really happy?” A small sob broke her lips as she rested a hand over his, cradling the small life within.

“Happy doesn’t cut it.” His voice was clear, confident.
“We’ll have to stop at your bookstore and pick up a thesaurus so I can find a whole new vocabulary.”

She pulled his collar. “Kiss me.”

And he didn’t stop until the nurse knocked at the door.

T
HEY
LEFT
THE
hospital in a daze. The sun still shined overhead, the snowdrifts sparkled so brilliantly that it was hard to see. He tightened his grasp on her hand. “We should go check in with
Sawyer.”

As surreal as the last few hours had been, the real world was still out there, and it would only be pushed away for so long.

“Yes,” Quinn said. “And as for our news . . . do we tell everyone now? Or keep it a secret for a little while?”

“I’m tempted to say nothing, but this is Brightwater. I feel like people will somehow figure it out no matter what. There’s some collective
town mind-reading power.”

“Okay, it’s better we get out in front of this. My dad would have loved to be a grandfather. Mom? She’s going to shit a brick when I call. I’m pretty sure she told her latest husband that she’s fifteen years younger than she actually is. She’d rather have me be her sister, take bikini selfies by the pool, than be a doting diaper-changing grandma.”

“Let’s give
her a chance. What if she does the right thing?”

Quinn stared. “Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy fiancé?”

The word made him grin ear to ear. “I’ve expected the worst for so long and it never got me anything good. Why not expect the best for once?”

When they got to the sheriff’s office, Sawyer’s desk was empty. Kit turned down the radio. “Well, well, well. Look who
the cat dragged in.”

“Cousin,” Wilder said with a curt nod.

“Your ears must be burning. Nobody has stopped talking about the pair of you all day.”

“What’s the current situation?” Wilder asked.

“Sawyer went looking for you. Your phones have both been turned off. Garret King has been officially cleared as a suspect; he had a watertight alibi last night. A lady friend. Or rather two.
Guess somebody had to pick up Archer’s mantle now that he’s settled down.” Kit whistled low. “The Kane boys are dropping like flies, but not yours truly. I’ll be buzzing free for a long time yet.”

“Are you comparing me to a fly swatter?” Quinn asked with mock annoyance.

Kit chuckled. “Hey, don’t take anything I say personal. I talk straight out my ass.”

“Good to know some things never
change,” Wilder said.

“I’ll call the boss, let him know you are around. He’ll want a chat. Warning, he’s not all that happy about your disappearing act.”

“We’ve had a heck of a day,” Wilder said. “He can deal.”

Kit made a quick call and gestured to a few chairs. “Can I offer you folks some refreshments?”

“I’m a little hungry actually,” Quinn said as Wilder eyed the window, waiting
for Sawyer’s patrol car to pull up. If Garret had an alibi that checked out, then whoever set those fires was still out there. And that meant Quinn and the baby were at risk.

The baby.

It was more like a floating sea monkey at this stage but he didn’t care. What if it was a boy? Wilder’d take him fishing, camping. Teach him chess. If it was a girl he could do the same, but if she looked
like her mother, she’d wrap him around her pudgy little finger in no time.

“I keep Girl Scout cookies stashed in my desk,” Kit said with a conspiratorial wink. “You want to come see my selection?”

“Do you have Thin Mints by any chance?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then you’re my favorite of Wilder’s relatives.” He handed her a cookie sleeve and she took a few. “Want one?” She waved one at Wilder.

“I’m good.” He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t do anything except focus.

If not Garret, who?

Fucking who?

Could it really be Lenny?

Quinn traded good-natured banter with Kit until she asked if anyone had gotten in touch with Marigold Flint and let her know that the cottage had burned.

Wilder noticed the change in the room. Tension grew and Kit’s face lost his easy smile.

“Yeah, yeah. We got in touch with her around lunchtime.”

“I hear she can have quite the temper.” Quinn’s brow crinkled. “I hope she doesn’t blame me.”

“You? Course not. She was horrified on your behalf. But I almost feel sorry for whoever is responsible. Goldie is cutting her trip short to fly home. If they find the guy, he’ll be begging to be put behind bars rather than deal with that
she-lion.”

Quinn smiled. “I’m sure she’s not that scary.”

Kit shoved another cookie in his month in response.

To say his cousin and Goldie Flint had a tempestuous history was an understatement. When they had it out at town football games, the fans in the bleachers stopped watching the field and munched popcorn while watching them invent curses that made the crowd gasp in awe or cheer
whenever they struck a particularly good low blow.

They were aware of the attention, played to the crowd sympathies like they were starring in a Shakespearean play. But then Kit enlisted and was gone, and Goldie went quiet. A scary quiet because every once in a while it erupted into a tongue-lashing.

Those two had history, but Wilder always guessed it was their business.

The patrol
car pulled up and Sawyer climbed out. His gaze went right to the window. Wilder knew from the way the sun hit the glass that his brother couldn’t see him, but he still knew he was there.

And what if he had a change of heart after last night’s conversation?

The door swung open and Sawyer stomped the snow off his boots. “Glad to see you out in the world,” he said. “Was beginning to think
you both went underground.”

“How are you, brother?” Wilder put a hell of a lot of meaning into the question.

Sawyer nodded thoughtfully. “Good, man. Worried about your dumb ass, mostly. And you,” he said to Quinn. “Apparently the fire investigator for our region quit recently. Had a heart attack and decided to retire early. Got a guy coming over from Sacramento but that might not be for
another day or so.”

“Quit,” Wilder said. “So there’s a vacancy?”

“Posted this morning,” Sawyer said, frowning slightly. “Too late to be of much use here I’m afraid. But ATF did send a profile over.”

“Can I take a look?” Wilder said.

Sawyer handed over the two-sheet form and Wilder read through it quickly.

“Anything spring to mind?” Sawyer said. “You got a look on your face.”

“Maybe. Yeah,” Wilder said as his heart sank to his gut. “Tonight’s the Christmas tree lighting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, why?” Realization dawned on Sawyer’s face. “Aw, hell, you don’t think there’ll be trouble?”

“I got a feeling.”

Sawyer gave a grim smile. “You sound like Grandma.”

“About time I realize we’re a lot alike,” Wilder said with a curt nod. “I have a plan. It’s a long
shot, but here’s what we can do.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Q
UINN
HE
LD
HER
hands over the truck’s heater.

“You sure you won’t go wait in the bookstore?” Wilder asked for the third time in as many minutes. “I promise to come back and get you before the lighting.”

“Positive. I’ve never been on a stakeout before.” She scanned the Save-U-More parking lot. “You’ve got Kit watching the Kum & Go gas station and we’re
here. Care to let me in on the secret?”

Wilder gave her a side eye. “Thought you liked fishing.”

“I do.” She bristled. “But I like to know what I’m setting the line for.”

“Like I said last night, it looks like all the fires have been started using a milk jug. It’s a long shot but I’m watching to see if the suspect is going to stop by. Then we’ll follow him.”

Quinn stared around
the half-full parking lot. One of her cousins walked past but didn’t look over. “Lenny?”

“Shit.” Wilder ducked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “He’s right there.”

“You really think he’s capable?”

Wilder scratched his scruffy jaw. “He hero worships King. If King wasn’t setting the fires, he was responding to them and getting lots of praise in the process. Praise that eventually
could trickle down to the best buddy.”

“That’s sort of crazy.”

“I said it was a long shot.”

“No, I mean it in a good way. That’s his car, huh?” She pointed at the nondescript grey Civic.

“Guess so, why?”

“I saw that car. It was acting weird, sort of casing me out one night, but I chalked it up to my imagination. Lenny was always with Garret when he was trying to hit on me and,
for the record, probably the worst wingman ever.”

“So he set a fire in your house, hoping King would rescue you, and—”

“That I’d fall for him.”

Lenny emerged carrying a single gallon of milk.

“Whoa.” Quinn gasped. It was as if the oxygen had just been sucked out of the car.

“He needs to be caught in the act,” Wilder said, waiting for Lenny to drive off before beginning the
tail. “Otherwise he’s going to be able to claim that he wanted to make a banana fucking milkshake or eat a bowl of cereal. Buying a gallon of two percent isn’t a crime.”

Wilder made a quick call to Sawyer. “He’s going down Main and taking a left on Laurel Street. Shit, he’s turning into an alley. I can’t follow without alerting him but that’s right near the town square. Where there’s smoke
there’s fire, man. I think we’ve got our boy.” Wilder nodded a few times. “Got it. Yep. Agreed.”

He did a U-turn and headed back toward Main Street.

“What’s the plan?”

“I’m not law enforcement so can’t go all vigilante on that asshole. We’re going to the square. Have to leave this to Sawyer and Kit.”

She rubbed his stiff shoulder. “This is killing you a little, isn’t it? Not being
involved?”

Wilder’s muscles loosened. “Yes and no. You and Sea Monkey are my priority.”

“Sea Monkey?” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s what you are calling the baby?”

“I have in my head, but can stop if you don’t like it.”

Quinn giggled. “Actually it’s perfect. Our darling little Sea Monkey.”

“I’m thinking about something. I won’t do it if you say no.”

“Lay it on me.”

“What Sawyer said about the fire investigator position opening up . . . How would you feel if I went for the job? I have good savings, but I can’t live on them forever. Now I’ve got you and Sea Monkey to take care of and—”

Quinn cupped the side of his cheek. “You’d be brilliant at it.”

He grimaced. “I’m no genius. Remember, I suspected King first.”

“You saw a link with Garret that
no one else did. That’s a start. You said yourself that catching an arsonist is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“You won’t mind if I get back into fire?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “That is always going to be a part of you, Wilder. But this is a way to move forward. This way you’ll be helping protect people.”

“I don’t have the job yet.”

“Maybe not officially, but
you do in my mind. They’d be crazy not to want you.”

“Speaking of crazy . . .” Wilder yanked the wheel toward the curb and hit the brakes. Lenny burst between Higsby Hardware and Bab’s Boutique, running full speed. Kit and Sawyer gave chase but he was headed straight in their direction.

Before Quinn could say a word, Wilder jumped from the car. “Hey, Lenny,” he barked. “Going somewhere?”

The smaller man pulled up short, chest rising and falling from exertion. “Get the hell out of my way, freak,” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching law enforcement.

“No. I don’t think I will.” There was a crunch as Wilder’s fist made contact with Lenny’s snub nose and the man went down faster than a domino. “That’s for putting my woman at risk,” Wilder growled.

Sawyer approached, shaking his head. “I’d lecture you on slugging a suspect but if I gave Archer a pass last summer, guess you get one too.”

“He’s out cold,” Kit said, nudging the unconscious man with his boot. “You pack one hell of a punch, dude.”

“What happened?” Wilder asked.

“He had emptied the milk and filled it with gasoline, stuffed a sock in just like you said. We surprised
him when he was sneaking over to the generator box.”

“Son of a bitch,” Wilder spat.

“An S.O.B. that’s going to wake up to a world of hurt and a shitload of trouble,” Sawyer said, hauling Lenny to his feet.

“Thank you,” Quinn said, rubbing Wilder’s arm. “Didn’t I once tell you that every blue moon someone deserves a hard knock in the nose?”

“Yeah, you did, Trouble.” Wilder planted
a kiss square on her forehead. “You’re safe now, and I’ll keep you safe forever.”

“You two get a room,” Kit said as Sawyer began hauling Lenny away. The shorter man moaned insensibly.

“Nah, I’m taking her to watch the Christmas tree lighting,” Wilder shot back. “That is, if you’re in the holiday spirit.”

“You know what?” Quinn gave him a long look. “We have a lot to celebrate. Why
not?”

It took another hour for the square to fill and the sun to drop behind Mount Oh-Be-Joyful. The sky turned as red as a poinsettia while the Brightwater Children’s Choir sang “Little Drummer Boy.”

Quinn glanced at Wilder to share the moment but he was staring over her shoulder. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go this way.”

It was crowded with residents bursting with
festive holiday cheer. Red Rudolph noses, antlers, and Santa hats abounded. Quinn gave a soft inward sigh. Maybe Wilder wasn’t quite ready to say a complete goodbye to the hermit life he’d inhabited for so long.

Disappointment tugged at her while they walked but at the same time, she couldn’t expect him to change who he was. She had to love him with eyes wide-open.

He pulled up short.
“Close your eyes.”

She cocked her head. “What is going on?”

“Please?” He fidgeted. “It’s a surprise.”

“I never thought I’d say it but I might be a little surprised out.”

“You’ll like this one,” he murmured.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and waited.

The mayor finished giving his speech and the crowd began to count down, “Nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . .”

Wilder
kissed her, soft, gentle, and with a sweetness that made her rise up on her tiptoes as he slowly withdrew.

The people around them began to clap as the holiday lights turned on, illuminating the big tree. A woman shouted, “Atta girl.” Quinn grinned at Natalie’s voice.

“What was that for?” she asked dreamily as the choir broke into “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

“Thought
it was obvious. For having the most kissable lips in the town.” He gave her chin a playful chuck. “And look up.”

Overhead was a sprig of mistletoe dangling from a red velvet ribbon.

She grinned. “Something tells me this holiday is going to be extra holly jolly.”