A shocked expression spread on Blake’s face. “No, I want it. I do.” To prove his statement, he lifted his leg and stepped into the trunk, crouching down, then finding a position in which he could lie down relatively comfortably.
“See, told you you’d fit. Don’t talk while you’re in there.” Quinn let the hood snap in. “And don’t worry, there’s plenty of air in there.”
Then he looked back at Delilah who’d strapped Isabelle back into her car seat, before he lifted his eyes toward the staircase.
“Portia?” he called out.
“Coming.” She rushed down the stairs, coming into view a moment later.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Wesley is sitting on the porch, pretending to read a newspaper. He knows to stay out there for half an hour after we’ve left.”
“Thanks.”
Portia took her seat while Delilah squeezed behind the steering wheel and started the engine. Quickly, Quinn turned to the stairs and climbed them, hearing the garage door opening as he reached the top.
“The package is on its way,” he announced to Zane and Rose, who were still standing in the hallway. “We’ll give them a half hour. Then Wesley will come in from the porch and the game begins.”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “You don’t honestly think Keegan will fall for our little trick, do you?”
Quinn grinned. “Of course not. He’ll assume we’re trying to pull a fast one.”
“Then why are we doing it?”
“Because he’ll think we can’t possibly be stupid enough to pull an old trick like that. He’ll assume that Blake is still here. Keegan was going to pull something anyway. We might as well control the where and when and make sure he attacks tonight.”
Zane twisted one side of his mouth upwards. “Just wondering. How are you going to do that?”
He pulled the disposable phone Delilah had brought him earlier from his pocket and handed it to Rose. “Rose is going to invite him.”
25
After sunset, Rose punched a message into the cell and reread the text, which was meant as an answer to Keegan’s give-me-back-what-you’ve-stolen-paintjob.
Over my dead body. Rose.
She sensed Quinn looking over her shoulder.
“It’s not exactly an invitation,” he murmured. “But I think he’ll get the message. Send it.”
Pushing the send button, she turned to him, shoving the phone into her front jeans pocket. “He’ll be fuming when he gets this.”
“Angry men make for irrational fighters. It’ll be to our advantage. So, while the others are keeping watch, come with me.” He tugged at her hand.
She felt heat rise into her cheeks. “Quinn, not now. There’s no time for that.”
His eyes shimmered golden when he looked at her. A wicked smile curled around his sensual lips. When he leaned closer, her knees started to wobble. After their amazing time in bed together, she felt more feminine than ever—and more vulnerable. And she couldn’t get enough of him.
“As much as I would love to drag you back to bed, I agree with you, there’s no time.” He winked. “I was going to arm you with a few weapons instead.”
Embarrassed that she’d misread his intention, she tried to cover up. “Of course, I knew that.”
His eyes were glued to her lips, his smile confirming that he knew what she had really been thinking of. “Of course.”
She let Quinn lead her upstairs to his room. When he opened the closet and dragged out a large metal crate, Rose realized instantly that arming her wouldn’t mean simply pressing a wooden stake into her hand.
The crate contained hand guns, knives, stakes, silver chains, throwing stars, and lots of other equipment she couldn’t instantly identify.
Quinn bent over the case, rummaging through it, then pulled out something and turned to her. “Here, you’ve got to wear gloves so the silver won’t injure you.”
As she took the leather gloves he handed her, she watched him pull on gloves of his own. Then he dug back into the box, pulled out the weapons, and laid on them on the bed.
“I don’t know how to use any of these. I’m used to defending myself with a stake,” she told him and pointed to her favorite weapon.
Quinn shook his head. “You won’t get anywhere close enough to be able to use it. Not if I can help it,” he grumbled. “You’ll be staying away from the action. You’ll take the gun. And it’s merely for self-defense.”
She glanced at the weapon. “That’s not a very big gun.”