Quinn’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #4)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Thank goodness for live entertainment, Dahlia thought as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Whenever Moana took the stage, the customers were enchanted by her voice and the performance. She could cover famous songs—several of which she’d written—as well as the island favorites or her original music.

With her friend’s voice in the background, Dahlia headed outside to check the parking lot. She was looking for a specific vehicle. A flashy electric-blue sports car that she’d seen at the resort two days ago after an early evening shift. The driver had been chatty with two men she’d been watching meet up at the bar for months.

He hadn’t looked out of place, but his clothing didn’t match the vehicle.

In the bar, the three of them spoke briefly before the new guy walked off. To anyone else, it probably looked like a few guys talking sports. There had been a soccer match on the television. But Dahlia, as a bartender, was used to people-watching. Beyond serving up drinks and being a good listener, she was an expert on body language, needing to be alert for the cues that signaled trouble.

Over the last few months, she’d been watching the first two men closely. They were trouble. Not due to overindulgence, but something else. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what first set her on edge, but she trusted her intuition. Wealthy businessmen were common enough around the resort, and the older of the two men liked flash. His watch, sunglasses, phone, and shoes all screamed money. The younger man only flashed his smile, his clothing blending better with the average-income tourists.

There wasn’t much in the way of charm that impressed Dahlia. Three younger brothers had pretty much made her immune. And this guy’s efforts were forced, coming off as sticky and smarmy. Though he’d been smart enough not to press when she didn’t play along.

Flirting wasn’t her style behind the bar. She preferred to stay neutral, focused on the job.

That focus is what allowed her to identify the two men as a potential problem. Though her primary job was at Ohana’s, because she picked up shifts at the resort too, she had to go through the hotel training on crime awareness and prevention.

These two men came to the resort regularly, usually early in the month for two or three days. Early afternoons or evenings, they met at a table near a window, had one beer each, and parted ways within an hour. Between them there was a benign vigilance, much like her own, as they conversed while watching other patrons come and go.

The tab was always paid in cash, never charged to a room.

As Dahlia walked through the parking lot, her phone at her ear in case she needed an excuse for being out here, she realized that had been the first indicator. In her experience the typical businessman on travel charged everything to his room. Sometimes even the tips.

Not these guys.

So she’d kept track, observing, determined not to be paranoid or stir up problems that weren’t there.

And then the younger of the two men showed up at Ohana’s. He’d recognized her, been friendly without flirting and said something about everyone needing a side hustle. She didn’t confirm or deny, only maintained her professional distance. The man had played a game of pool and danced with a woman who’d asked him. He’d paid cash, tipping well before leaving.

Later, as she’d driven away on her motorcycle, she’d noticed him in the parking lot talking with a man who hadn’t come into the bar at all. She’d mentioned it to one of the bar’s five co-owners, Lane Benning, but a review of the security feed wasn’t helpful. Too many shadows and the men were blocking the license plate.

The bigger concern was that a closer study of the footage revealed the men had exchanged vehicles. Could’ve been completely innocent. But it didn’t feel that way in her gut.

The pattern had repeated. The men would meet at the resort, then the younger man would meet someone else and exchange cars at Ohana’s. Then neither man would be around until the next month. At Ohana’s the co-owners kept track of the incidents, though there was nothing overtly illegal happening. Her managers at the resort directed her to Cassie Marner, head of the special security office and wife of Lane.

And according to the last message from Cassie an hour ago, the background research indicated the older man was named Morton, a lawyer with ties to organized crime. She’d been told to steer clear of the men and any associates and stay vigilant.

Hooray for information, but it wasn’t comforting news.

And weird. Why would anyone with potential criminal intent do business around Ohana? She could understand trying to blend in with the tourists and take advantage of the high turnover rate at the resort, but Ohana’s was owned by five former Navy SEALs. They weren’t hands-off owners, immersing themselves in the business as well as the local community. Tonight was a rarity when not a one of them was hanging around.

Of course, tonight there were other SEALs haunting her bar. Four of them, in fact. Which was one reason she felt confident enough to search the parking lot: quality backup was within shouting distance. And of those four highly-trained and handsome men, three were now involved romantically with her closest friends.

Moana was no doubt mesmerizing Bowie right this minute. If Mia wasn’t meeting Carter here, he’d be on his way to her place soon enough. And Flint might as well be a new fixture since Emery continued to pick up shifts as extra security. The extra cash didn’t hurt, but Emery just enjoyed hanging out here.

Dahlia distracted herself briefly from what she was doing, wondering what it would be like to be the focus of all that male intensity. She’d gotten to know the guys a bit when they came to the bar. She thought highly of each of them. The four men had come to Hawaii for some kind of testing that left them with ample free time. To a man, they oozed integrity and restless energy in equal measure.

Integrity was an attractive quality in Dahlia’s mind.

Her phone lit up with an incoming call, the light startling her. She didn’t recognize the number so she declined the call. This wasn’t the time for distractions. She had a feeling that showy car would be out here tonight and she was determined to find something useful for Cassie and the authorities.

Rounding the corner confidently, she aimed for the place where she’d seen the previous car exchange. And saw the electric blue car at the far corner of the front parking lot, same as before. She couldn’t see the license plate from here. And of course, in that spot she knew the surveillance cameras couldn’t pick it up either.

She couldn’t claim to be a criminal mastermind, but she’d bet tonight’s tips they were in that location on purpose.

It made her mad. The occasional incidents that happened at the resort when people thought they were anonymous were bad enough. Ohana’s was a neighborhood bar with a friendly vibe and no serious crime issues. She would do her part to keep it that way.

“Hey sweetheart!” A deep voice shouted from behind her. “Wait for me.”

Dahlia looked around but she didn’t see anyone else in the lot.

“Come on,” the man cajoled. “Don’t do this. I said I’m sorry.”

What kind of jerk thought yelling was the way to make up to his girlfriend? She didn’t recall anyone having obvious issues before she walked outside, so something must’ve just happened.

She kept moving, determined to get a license plate. Maybe a peek inside the car.

“Baby, there you are!”

If it was a woman with any self-respect, she’d make this guy do better. “Baby” and “sweetheart” didn’t cut it for Dahlia. If a guy didn’t know her name in a relationship, especially in a fight, he wasn’t worth the time. She’d coached her brothers repeatedly on this topic when they started dating.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she whipped around. Quinn was a few strides away, his smile sharp as he hurried toward her. “I called,” he said, his voice carrying. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Called? That didn’t make any sense. She didn’t even know how he had her number. His eyes were shadowed in the dark and yet somehow she could feel his disapproval. Of what? She’d figure it out later.

Annoyed with his lousy timing, she ignored him to keep an eye on her target. Quinn’s approach had drawn attention.

He caught her arm, gently, drawing her around to face him. “What are you doing?” she demanded under her breath.

“Play along.”

That low grumble at her ear was an order. She wasn’t good about taking orders and yet… This was Quinn. He was trustworthy. Not a creep. Hadn’t she been fantasizing about this man for weeks? Here at the bar, out on the beach… she was always fighting to keep her distance. Keep her cool when he was around.

She wasn’t cool now. No, she could feel her temperature rising, matching the need throbbing in her veins. She was a heartbeat away from discovering what it felt like to be in his arms. To breathe him in and hold that scent close.

This suddenly felt way more dangerous than figuring out what was going on with the lawyer and the car swapping. It certainly felt more immediate, more critical to her personal well-being.

Quinn’s arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her in until her body was pressed tightly to his. He turned her, shielding her in the shadows. His free arm rested against the wall over her head, caging her in a sensual cocoon.

It was a ploy, it had to be. Nothing else made sense. But it felt so real. Marvelous. Put her fantasies to shame. His breath fanned over her cheek, sweeping her away into a pulsing current of desire. Then his mouth touched hers and the rest of the world dropped out from under her feet.

Soft lips, tender heat. He wanted her to play along? Oh, hell yes.

She gasped and he took the kiss deeper, his tongue sweeping over hers. Gripping his shirt, she held on, doing her best to meet and return the pleasure he lavished on her.

Quinn was a force of nature, an undertow she didn’t want to escape. Who knew the man had these skills? She’d suspected, of course. Hoped, in a vague, distant way. She’d never expected to have first-hand experience.

She arched into him, her hands gliding up over her shoulders, playing with his hair. No one had ever kissed her like this. His hands settled at her waist, his grip firm and sure. Ideas for those hands danced merrily through her mind.

Then he was easing back, ending the kiss. She leaned in before she remembered where they were. What she’d been doing. She opened her mouth, but he touched a finger to her lips. “Wait.”

Another order.

Disappointment prickled under her skin. It seemed his situational awareness remained intact. Her ego was soothed when she noticed his breathing was as rough and ragged as her own.

He stroked her jaw, turning her head just enough that she could see the younger man from the resort. Several paces away now, he must’ve walked by them while she’d been making out with Quinn.

With an arm around her waist, he steered her in the opposite direction, back toward the kitchen entrance. “I?—”

“Shh.” He gave her a little squeeze, as if testing how she felt under his hands. Her knees went weak. “Hawk called me,” he murmured in her ear. “I know why you came out here.”

Right . Her purpose that he’d derailed. Any second now, she’d remove herself from his embrace. “They’re doing something shady when they exchange cars.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” He nuzzled her cheek, keeping the game alive.

She struggled to focus. “Then why stop me?”

“Because I’m supposed to keep you safe. I saw the young guy sneaking up behind you.”

“Oh.”

“Next time I call, answer.”

“Sure.” She suddenly realized she didn’t have her phone. She swiveled around, but he stopped her again. “I dropped my phone,” she explained, feeling panicky. Due to the kiss or the potential hassle of a new phone—she didn’t want to sort out which right now.

“Dahlia.” He held out her phone, his smile, slow and sure. Where had that smile been all her life? She melted into a puddle of longing at his feet. “I caught it.”

There was a wealth of meaning in those three small words. Hard not to infer that he would always be there ready and willing to catch her if she needed it.

“Thank you,” she managed in a breathless squeak.

“For?”

“The phone,” she replied immediately. “And thanks for keeping me out of trouble.” Though she’d really wanted more information on that car and anyone connected to it. “Why…” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she was asking about the kiss or his sudden appearance. Did she even want the answers?

“Hawk called.” He guided her back toward the kitchen, his arm snug at her back, fingers light on her waist. “Asked me to stick close because you’ve kicked over a hornet nest.”

His voice, pitched low, made it hard to think. “I have?”

“We’ll get more details soon. Sounds like whatever it is, these aren’t people to mess with.”

“All right,” she replied, though nothing felt right. Everything was slightly off kilter, and the world itself was tipping her into Quinn. Good thing he felt solid enough to deal with whatever was going on.

He put his hand on the door handle, but didn’t pull. “About that kiss.”

She looked up. Here under the yellowed glow of the security light, she could see his face clearly. The heat in his gaze sent a jolt of anticipation through her system. It wasn’t anything she’d seen before. Not from him.

Or anyone else.

No one had ever looked at her quite like he did. She supposed that was fitting, since no one else had ever kissed her the way he had. Except… “That was a stunt,” she said. No reason to make him the bad guy. “I get it.”

“It wasn’t.” He flattened his palm against the door, his body a warm shield for hers once more. “There were other ways to protect you back there. Kissing you has been on my mind for a while.”

“Define ‘a while’.” She wasn’t vain, she just couldn’t believe he’d been thinking about kissing her all this time.

One corner of his mouth tipped up and she fought the urge to press her lips to that specific spot.

“Since the day I walked into Ohana’s,” he confessed.

“That was…” A mistake, she decided when the math failed her. All her brain power and willpower were focused on holding back, maintaining a smidge of dignity.

“Six weeks ago,” he said. A scowl shaded his eyes. “Bowie was just giving me crap about it.”

Her head spun. This had to be some weird dream she’d stumbled into. “Quinn.”

She appreciated his candor. Clear communication was important. And, in this case, deliciously exciting. Quinn wanted her. Heady stuff being desired by the man populating her current fantasies.

“If you’re not into it, if you, um , don’t want more kisses, I understand. Won’t happen again. But until Cassie and Hawk get this sorted, I’ll be protecting you from any trouble.” He frowned again. “Unless you want someone else? They can probably?—”

“You’re my bodyguard.” It wasn’t a question. She should be more worried about needing protection. Instead, her mind latched onto the idea of having Quinn close more often, or more specifically, all the time.

Heady stuff. The shiver that rolled through her was pure delight.

He nodded slowly. “A bodyguard willing to make out, if you’re so inclined.”

She was definitely inclined. “That’s an interesting perk.” Whatever Quinn was offering, she’d happily participate. Security, kisses, surfing? Her body was humming now. With Quinn around, everyday life would become a vacation.

She heard someone shouting for her inside. “I’ve gotta go.” She kissed him quickly on the lips, a little shocked at herself.

He pulled the door open for her and as she rushed inside, his words fell as soft as a feather against the back of her neck. “I’m right behind you.”

Oh, man. Her dreams would likely scorch the sheets tonight and she couldn’t summon an ounce of regret.