Quinn’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #4)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Quinn followed Dahlia through the kitchen and back out to the bar. He found his friends hanging out close enough to the stage to support Moana, while leaving the best seats for regular customers. On his way through, he looked for the men who’d been outside, but there was no sign of them.

Carter pushed out a chair. “Where the hell have you been?”

“On the job,” he said through lips still tingling from Dahlia’s last kiss. He braced his hands on the top of the chair, but didn’t sit down. For the foreseeable future, his place would be at the bar.

Flint scowled, looking around the bar. “What are you talking about? And why do you look so happy about it?”

“Better to stay busy.” Quinn gave the first answer they’d expect, then glanced back toward the bar. “I’ll fill in the details later. There’s no immediate threat.” He hoped the stunt outside confused anyone concerned about Dahlia. “For now, just be aware that we may have some problem-children in the area.”

“Like hell,” Flint grumbled. “Why aren’t we taking out the trash? Whatever it is.”

“One step at a time.” Quinn dropped a hand to his shoulder, keeping Flint in his seat. “I’ll bring Emery up to speed.” Something he shouldn’t have overlooked. He needed to get his head in the game, stat.

He spoke with Emery, who was less than pleased with the fragments of information. Then, taking a seat at the end of the bar as promised, he sent a text message update to Hawk and looped in Cassie as well.

Apparently, they already had access to the Ohana surveillance and were working on identifications. Great. Work was always easier with an effective support and intel team at his back.

He didn’t expect to hear anything more tonight. Which left him plenty of time to think about what came next. His role here was to keep Dahlia safe. Easier to do that if he also kept her close.

Should he crash on her couch or insist on her joining him at his cabin on the ranch?

How could he make her understand the risks without scaring her? He was pretty sure his kissing stunt convinced the guy they hadn’t yet identified that Dahlia wasn’t out there snooping, but he wasn’t banking on it. Hawk and Cassie had given him an assignment and he took that seriously.

Dahlia swung down to his end of the bar. “Beer?” she asked, reaching for a pint glass.

“No, thanks,” he shook his head. “Water’s fine.”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “Is that a bodyguard thing?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“Yes. Can’t afford to dull the senses.”

Her green eyes sparkled. “All right.”

He lifted the water glass, complete with a lemon slice, in a silent toast to her. She smiled and turned to the next customer.

What was she thinking about that put such an intriguing glint in her eyes? The curiosity—the hope that he was a catalyst— burned in the back of his mind as he started working out the next steps of her protection plan.

Pulling out his phone, he started a list. He knew her best friends and knew those friends were safe. He needed to know her work schedules and any close associates, both here and at the resort. He needed to visit the resort and check out the set up there, all the possible ways in and out. Resort security should be top notch and if he decided more precautions were necessary, Cassie would surely make the arrangements.

He knew a little about Dahlia from her friends and the times he’d chatted with her while they were out surfing. He knew she had three brothers, all younger. He knew her parents were alive and from her conversation, he inferred that she’d grown up in a stable family.

Maybe there was something to the opposites attract rule. Because her early years sounded like the antithesis of his.

Not the point. He should know how often she visited her parents and brothers. Where they lived, how often they got together. His job was to shore up any possible vulnerability in her daily routine. Any choke point someone could use against her.

Her surf spot was an obvious concern. Though he wouldn’t make that off limits unless they had hard evidence of imminent danger. He didn’t know about her hobbies beyond surfing.

Everything he’d hoped to know about her as a person he would soon learn through a crash course born of necessity. He could only hope it didn’t work against them on a personal level. Because after that kiss, he wanted to enjoy her company for as long as he was here.

Watching Dahlia work was always interesting, an activity he’d been enjoying since arriving in Hawaii. But tonight, he watched her more closely than ever. He recognized how edgy she was, but he didn’t think her customers were aware at all. She had a way of making everyone feel like the only person in the room.

She didn’t react adversely to anyone at the bar or the tables within her view. When a couple of people had hit their limit, she cut them off and arranged safe transportation. She was so smooth and seamless. No one argued with her, no one turned belligerent. He’d been watching these past weeks without realizing just how good she was at getting her way when it mattered most.

It probably helped that the general clientele here didn’t run to bar fights and brawls. He’d never been more thankful for that until now, when he was officially in charge of keeping Dahlia safe.

He’d spent plenty of time in seedy bars and dives all over the globe. The general vibe of those places didn’t change much. In contrast, Ohana’s was laid back and easygoing. Mentally, he kicked back to observe, ever alert for anyone who didn’t fit, anyone who might be looking for trouble.

Last call came and went and the bar cleared out without incident. It was a strange energy shift. A bit of a letdown, but still comfortable as the staff went about their closing tasks. Someone turned on the jukebox and a lilting island melody drifted on the night air.

Flint and Emery remained. Carter and Mia had left earlier with Bowie and Moana once she’d finished her performance. Quinn recognized the hard edge in Flint’s eyes. His friend wouldn’t take any chances with Emery’s safety, no matter how capable she was.

Quinn understood the feeling.

He kept replaying that moment outside, when Dahlia had ignored his call and he was on the wrong side of the threat. The possibility of failure gave him chills. He wouldn’t dwell on it, though. He’d found a solution in the moment and would continue to do so until this threat to her was over.

As Dahlia carried a rack of clean glassware in to restock the bar, she threw him a long look. “You don’t have to stay,” she said. “I’m not alone.” She tipped her head. “There are only friends here.”

Something in her voice struck him. The nearly-shy tone was new. “I don’t want to be anywhere else,” he blurted.

Her eyebrows lifted as she continued her tasks and a smile tugged at her lips. Maybe she needed more of the stark honesty he’d shared earlier. After all, he’d been thinking about her for several weeks. Aside from her clear enthusiasm for more kisses, he didn’t know how interested she might be in him.

Should he even be worried about anything more than the immediate, physical connection? Wasn’t like he had any success with lasting relationships in his life. His mother had left him. Girlfriends through school didn’t last long. Part of that had been the fickleness of teenagers, but most of it was due to moving between foster homes. Hell, the woman he’d loved, proposed to, and planned a wedding with left him at the altar.

He glanced at Flint, who was helping Emery stack chairs outside. Quinn understood camaraderie. Brotherhood. The bond that came through the shared pain of training and operational experience. If those were the only lasting relationships in his life, he could hardly complain.

Sure, Carter, Bowie, and Flint had found something special on their unexpected excursion. As much as he liked Dahlia, Quinn couldn’t just drop her into a similar role for himself. He’d protect her. He’d gladly indulge in as much extracurricular fun as she was up for. But at the end of the day, he wouldn’t expect anything.

With his history, expectations inevitably devolved into emotional quicksand. Better for him and everyone else if he accepted his limits.

Dahlia swore, bringing his full attention back to her. “Problem?” She was counting the cash drawer behind the bar.

“I’ve got a fake twenty here.” Setting it aside, she searched the rest of the stack. “Here’s another one. Damn it.”

“You can tell just by feel?”

She nodded absently and kept sorting the bills, muttering as she did.

Aside from knowing counterfeiting was a crime, Quinn didn’t generally give it much thought. Did anyone? Funny money was probably a risk in any cash business. “Is there a way to figure out who gave you those bills?”

She flattened her palms on the counter on either side of the register. Her lips were pressed together as if she hoped to contain her fury. She didn’t need to do that for his sake. Quinn moved closer, where he could see one tall stack of money next to four separate twenties.

“No one I cashed out,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just feeling these, I would’ve taken the extra step of testing the bills.” She touched the money again, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

“In front of the customer?”

“Absolutely.” She shoved her hands through her hair, lifting the short strands into an appealing disarray. “A hundred fake bucks. Maybe more, if we gave anyone change.”

“Anyone other than you,” Quinn said. “You would’ve noticed.”

“True.” She looked over at him. “And they weren’t all together, which could mean they were used by more than one customer.”

“That sucks.”

“Yes, it does.” She pushed back from the counter, folding her arms. “Good thing Emery’s here.” Her lips curled into a wry grin. “Even off-duty, she’s local law enforcement, so I don’t have to call someone else.”

He watched, fascinated, as Dahlia and Emery completed the report. While they worked, he walked through the bar, taking note of the camera placements inside and out. Retired SEALs owned the place now and they wouldn’t skimp on security.

When Emery finished the report, the fake bills in her custody, Quinn asked about the cash receipts.

Dahlia pointed to the line of clips behind the register. “We keep the open tabs here,” she explained, “If they close out with cash, we toss it. It’s not like a credit card receipt where we have a name and the full list of what was ordered.”

“The register logs what you serve though, right?” From his vantage point, it looked like a modern set up.

“Of course.” She planted a hand on her hip. “How does that help? Those bills were probably accepted at various points tonight. They would’ve been closer together in the drawer if it had been used to clear one big tab.”

“Did you have any tabs over a hundred bucks tonight?”

“No.” Her eyebrows drew together as she considered. “I did cash out a couple of tables with higher totals.”

“Okay, but you would’ve noticed the bills were off.”

“Maybe not if I was distracted,” she admitted. “There were short bursts tonight with plenty going on.” She peered up at him through her long, dark eyelashes. “And more distractions than I’m used to.”

Damn, she was good for his ego.

“Let’s start by assuming it was someone at the bar.” Sal, the bartender working with her tonight, had already gone home. “Someone who cashed out with Sal.”

“Probably,” she grumbled. “That’s about the only way cash gets into the drawer without me touching it. Sal doesn’t have as much experience as I do. And when someone leaves cash on the clipboard or in the receipt, it’s not as easy to feel the difference.”

“If you’ve got more to do?—”

“Always,” she said.

“Then I’ll go look at the cash transactions and see if I can find something obvious.” He was starting to think it was all connected: the men she’d noticed in both bars, the car exchanges, and now the counterfeit bills.

He spoke with Flint, asking him to stand watch while Emery logged him into the security system in the office. After a quick tutorial on the system, Emery left him to search. Thankfully, he only needed to review the past few hours. Focusing on the bar, he started at the point where Dahlia put the cash in her register ahead of the evening shift. He made a note of the times when people paid in cash.

At one point, the man Hawk claimed was a “complete unknown” came to the bar, handed money to Sal. Quinn checked the time. That was just before he’d gone into the parking lot. Quinn couldn’t label it a coincidence. He finished the first search and went back to follow Mr. Unknown’s evening at Ohana’s.

The man played pool and he’d made some friendly bets along the way. Lost several, won a couple others. Quinn couldn’t be sure about the denomination on the bills up for grabs. Mr. Unknown also danced with a woman after she’d flirted with him a while. And he gave her cash when she went to the bar.

She didn’t run a tab, but she did order from Sal, paying with cash provided by Mr. Unknown every time.

“Anything?” Dahlia asked, walking in to stand behind him.

“Oh, yeah.” He texted Cassie and Hawk, shared the relevant time stamps to assist their search as well as the people and interactions he’d been following. Then he showed everything he’d found to Dahlia.

She leaned over his shoulder, one arm braced on the desk. Studying the images, she shook her head. “If he’s the source of the funny money, that would explain things.”

“It’s likely not an innocent mistake either, considering his visits with the lawyer at the resort,” Quinn said.

“Good point.” She stood up straight, glaring at the images on the screen. “Dumb to pass those bills here though. Does he think our owners can be bribed or used? They’re not typical retirees, they’re former SEALs.”

Quinn swallowed his immediate reaction. Everyone had a price. The bar owners had integrity to spare, but he knew of four particular SEALs who weren’t nearly as upstanding. That wasn’t the story he wanted to share right now.

“I don’t think Mr. Unknown came here to bribe anyone.” Quinn considered the little bit they knew so far. “He didn’t talk to anyone other than the guys shooting pool.”

She leaned forward once more. “What about the two from the parking lot? Did you see him talk to them?”

Quinn shook his head. “No. I might’ve overlooked it. Cassie and Hawk will find any connection,” he assured her. He turned, momentarily distracted by her profile, the soft curve of her cheek right there within reach. He shoved desire down deep. “I’m more concerned about you. They visit the resort when you’re there. And they show up here.”

“They aren’t bribing me,” she said. “They don’t talk to me, except to order or cash out.” She shrugged. “I’ll be fine. They’re gone.”

“For now.” Even without Hawk’s directive to protect Dahlia, Quinn’s instincts were telling him this situation was bigger than it appeared. “What happens when Mr. Unknown shows up again? When he passes more fake bills to unsuspecting staff?” He didn’t want her terrified, but he needed her to understand. “He wasn’t in that parking lot, coming up behind you, with any good intentions.”

She rubbed her arms. “Fine.” Pressing a finger between her eyebrows, she asked, “What does that mean? And keep it simple,” she added. “I’m too tired to think beyond tonight.”

He could keep things simple. “It means we need to figure out if we’re headed to your place or mine.”

Her green eyes snapped to his. “You can’t be serious.”

“For protection,” he clarified, keeping his tone low and calm. “I’m not suggesting we jump from kisses to…” His voice trailed off. He didn’t want to be overheard, that would be too damned embarrassing. But he wasn’t sure how to explain that he was willing—eager—to sleep with her without making it sound cheap. “You shouldn’t be alone until we have more information. If they know how to find you here, they know how to find where you live.”

She propped a hip against the desk. He jumped up and out of the chair. “Have a seat.” She’d been on her feet for hours while he’d been parked on a bar stool.

“Stop that.”

“I won’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m used to being on my feet,” she reminded him. “You’re being weird.”

Funny, he considered it good manners, despite him being slow about it. “Let’s get going, then.”

They could decide on the destination while she closed up. Within minutes, Emery and Flint left with the bank deposit bag and Dahlia had the lights out and doors locked. In the parking lot, only her motorcycle and his loaner from the ranch remained.

“I’ll follow you home,” he said. “Unless you’d rather stay at my place.”

She sighed, the weary sound carried away by the late-night breeze. “Those are the only options?”

He nodded. He would do everything he could not to disrupt her routine, but he was not budging on her safety.

“My place,” she decided. “I’ll need to stop for gas.”

“No problem. Lead the way.”

He thought about kissing her and quickly decided against it. They were alone out here in a deserted parking lot. The next time he kissed her, he didn’t want to be distracted. He wanted them both to feel secure enough to enjoy it thoroughly.

He moved toward the loaner, a decades-old bare bones Jeep, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Starting the engine, he watched over her as she put on her helmet. A moment later the motorcycle roared to life. She drove and he followed, to the gas station and on to her house.

Although it was dark, it was clearly a nice neighborhood. Middle-class, average sized homes lined the streets. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this. Maybe she had a roommate. Or two. Or maybe, with the real estate prices in Hawaii, she was house-sitting. Whatever the situation, it went on his growing list of questions to ask her.

When she turned into a driveway and parked her bike under the carport, he rolled in behind her. “Okay to leave it here?”

“Yes.”

He cut the engine and hopped out, pocketing the key. “No one will block me?”

“No.” She cocked her head. “I live alone.”

And now he was here. “Good to know.” Once they were inside, there would be no interruptions or distractions. No one else to research before he could let down his guard and relax.

“You’re judging me,” she accused on her way to the front door. “Why?”

“Not really.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Apologies that it came across that way.”

She let loose another gusty sigh as she flipped a light switch. “Don’t worry. My neighbors judged me too.”

Stepping inside, he urged her to lock the front door. “Tour first. Please,” he added when she shot him a look. “I need to know any weak points.”

“We can’t just go to bed?”

He did a double take, fighting to maintain bodyguard mode as all his blood rushed south of his belt. The images dancing through his mind were so damned distracting. Dahlia, stripped bare, her tanned skin contrasting against white sheets. Dahlia sighing with pleasure instead of weariness, her full curves arching into his hands and mouth.

“Tour.” The word barely scraped past his clenched teeth.

Dahlia showed him around. “Front room and kitchen over there. Pretty self-explanatory.”

Yes, it was. He admired the vaulted ceiling and beams, the comfortable furnishings, and the paintings of island scenery. “Any other entrances?”

Her chin jerked once in the affirmative. “Off the kitchen,” she said, aiming that way. He checked the locks on the front windows before following her to the big slider. She had a security bar in place, in addition to the standard lock that could be easily forced.

“Do you want to search the yard?” She flipped a couple of switches and a warm glow spread across the patio, a raised garden bed, and the green space beyond.

“Is it fenced?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’ll wait.”

With a careless shrug, she moved to a wide opening framed in gleaming wood. “Guest bedroom and bathroom.” She pointed to an open pocket door. “Laundry room and storage. My room is over here.” She scooted around him to another doorway. “Bedroom, bath, etcetera.”

“Any outside exit?”

She shook her head. “Nope. But go and check the windows if you need to.”

He did. Smothering a cringe that the window overlooked the front yard, he confirmed the locks were in good shape. “Did you just replace these? They look new.”

“They are new. My brothers are in construction and we flipped this house. I put in enough blood and sweat to call it my own.”

“You help them a lot?”

She pushed at her hair, looking so damned tired he felt guilty. “Forget I asked. We’ll talk tomorrow and make a better plan.” Tonight, he’d let Hawk know where they ended up. “Good night, Dahlia.” He forced himself to leave her room, ignoring the bed. Ignoring the longing caught in his chest. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

Her eyes went wide. “Why not the guest room?”

“A security thing,” he said. “Better to be closer, um, to where I can hear trouble.”

She stepped closer rather than retreating. “What are you doing?” Hell, his voice almost cracked.

“Any chance of a goodnight kiss?”

She couldn’t possibly know how tempting she was right now. Always. Dahlia shredded his usual defenses.

He closed the distance. “I’m not one to renege on a deal.” He linked his hands with hers in a last-ditch attempt to hold on to his self-control. He wanted her that badly. At the same time, he didn’t want to rush through a single moment.

He brushed his lips lightly over hers. But then her grip tightened and she sighed and he was lost. Again. Only this time there was no immediate threat lurking in the shadows. They were alone, in the doorway of her bedroom.

The scent of her skin and the night breeze lingering in her hair was a heady combination. He breathed her in, tasting her deeply before finally pulling back. “Goodnight, Dahlia.”

“Goodnight.” She licked her lips, her green eyes blazing.

It was a miracle, a superhuman effort, to walk away. He could almost hear Bowie in his head telling him to go back, to dive in head first if Dahlia was willing.

But Quinn couldn’t do it that way. Sure, they’d met several weeks ago and he’d probably be leaving soon. Even if they only had a couple of weeks together, he didn’t want to look back on this time with any regrets. He wanted to take his time, to savor everything Dahlia wanted to share.

He wouldn’t be careless with her protection or her feelings. He wanted this brief window of time to be special for her. Nothing in his life indicated he was the guy women wanted to keep, but he’d be damned if he wrecked this on day one and gave her a reason to toss him aside too soon.