Before his mouth crushed down on hers.
“You’re all right,” he managed, propping her against the stone of the building as he dragged off his coat. “You’re okay. Here, get into this. You’re freezing.”
“You were there.” She stared up into his face. “You were there.”
“Couldn’t get the door open. Key wouldn’t work.” He took her hands, rubbed them warm between his. “My truck’s right up there, okay. I want you to go up, sit in my truck. I left the keys in it. Turn on the heat. Sit in my truck and turn on the heat. Can you do that?”
She wanted to say yes. There was something in her that wanted to say yes to anything he asked. But she saw, in his eyes, what he meant to do.
“You’re going in there.”
“That’s what I have to do. What you have to do is go sit in the truck for a few minutes.”
“If you go in, I go in.”
“Quinn.”
How, she wondered, did he manage to sound patient and annoyed at the same time? “I need to as much as you, and I’d hate myself if I huddled in your truck while you went in there. I don’t want to hate myself. Besides, it’s better if there’s two of us. It’s better. Let’s just do it. Just do it, and argue later.”
“Stay behind me, and if I say get out, you get out. That’s the deal.”
“Done. Believe me, I’m not ashamed to hide behind you.”
She saw it then, just the faintest glimmer of a smile in his eyes. Seeing it settled her nerves better than a quick shot of brandy.
He turned his key again, keyed in the touch pad. Quinn held her breath. When Cal opened the door, the lights were on. Al Roker’s voice cheerily announced the national weather forecast. The only sign anything had happened was her sports bottle under the rack of free weights.
“Cal, I swear, the power went out, then the room-”
“I saw it. It was pitch-black in here when you came through the door. Those weights were all over the floor. I could see them rolling around from the light coming in the door. The floor was heaving. I saw it, Quinn. And I heard it from outside the door.”
He’d rammed that door twice, he remembered, put his full weight into it, because he’d heard her screaming, and it had sounded like the roof was caving in.
“Okay. My things are in the locker room. I really want to get my things out of the locker.”
“Give me the key, and I’ll-”
“Together.” She gripped his hand. “There’s a scent, can you smell it? Over and above my workout and panic sweat.”
“Yeah. I always thought it must be what brimstone smells like. It’s fading.” He smiled, just a little, as she stopped to pick up a ten-pound free weight, gripped it like a weapon.
He pushed open the door of the women’s locker room. It was as ordered and normal as the gym. Still, he took her key, nudged her behind him before he opened her locker. Moving quickly, she dragged on her sweats, exchanged coats. “Let’s get out of here.”
He had her hand as they walked back out and Matt walked in.
He was young, the college-jock type, doing the part-time attendant, occasional personal trainer gig. A quick, inoffensive smirk curved on his lips as he saw them come out of the women’s locker room together. Then he cleared his throat.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. Damnedest thing. First my alarm didn’t go off, and I know how that sounds. Then my car wouldn’t start. One of those mornings.”
“Yeah,” Quinn agreed as she put back the weight, retrieved her water bottle. “One of those. I’m done for the day.” She tossed him the locker key. “See you later.”
“Sure.”
She waited until they were out of the building. “He thought we’d been-”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Ever do it in a locker room?”
“As that was actually my first foray into a girl’s locker room, I have to say no.”
“Me, either. Cal, have you got time to come over, have coffee-God, I’ll even cook breakfast-and talk about this?”
“I’m making time.”
SHE TOLD HIM EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED while she scrambled eggs. “I was scared out of my mind,” she finished as she carried the coffee into the little dining room.
“No, you weren’t.” Cal set the plates of eggs and whole-wheat toast on the table. “You found the door, in the pitch-black, and with all that going on, you kept your head and found the door.”
“Thanks.” She sat. She wasn’t shaking any longer, but the inside of her knees still felt like half-set Jell-O. “Thanks for saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You were there when I opened the door, and that was one of the best moments of my life. How did you know to be there?”
“I came in early because I wanted to swing by here, see how you were. Talk to you. Gage-”
“I know about that. Tell me the rest of this first.”
“Okay. I turned off Main to come around the back way, come here, and I saw Ann Hawkins. I saw her standing in front of the door. I heard you screaming.”
“From inside your truck, on the street. That far away-through stone walls, you heard me?”
“I heard you.” It hadn’t been one of the best moments of his life. “When I jumped out, ran toward the door, I heard crashing, thumping, God knows what from inside. I couldn’t get the goddamn door open.”
She heard it now, the emotion in his voice, the fear he hadn’t let show while they were doing what needed doing. She rose, did them both a favor and crawled right into his lap.
She was still there, cradled in his arms, when Cybil strolled in.
“Hi. Don’t get up.” She took Quinn’s chair. “Anyone eating this?” Studying them, Cybil took a forkful of eggs. “You must be Cal.”
“Cybil Kinski, Caleb Hawkins. We had a rough morning.”
Layla stepped in with a coffee mug and sleepy eyes that clouded with concern the minute she saw Quinn. “What happened?”
“Have a seat, and we’ll run it through for both of you.”
“I need to see the place,” Cybil said as soon as the story was told. “And the room in the bowling alley, anyplace there’s been an incident.”
“Try the whole town,” Quinn said dryly.
“And I need to see the clearing, this stone, as soon as possible.”
“She’s bossy,” Quinn told Cal.
“I thought you were, but I think she beats you out. You can come into the bowling center anytime you like. Quinn can get you into the fitness center, but if I can’t be there, I’ll make sure either Fox or Gage is. Better, both of them. As far as the Pagan Stone goes, I talked with Fox and Gage about that last night. We’re agreed that the next time we go, we all go. All of us. I can’t make it today and neither can Fox. Sunday’s going to be best.”
“He’s organized and take-charge,” Cybil said to Quinn.
“Yes.” She pressed a kiss to Cal’s cheek. “Yes, he is. And I’ve made you let your eggs get cold.”
“It was a worthwhile trade-off. I’d better get going.”
“We still have a lot to talk about. Listen, maybe the three of you should come to dinner.”
“Is someone cooking?” Cal asked.
“Cyb is.”
“Hey!”
“You ate my breakfast. Plus you actually cook. But in the meantime, just one thing.” She slid out of his lap so he could stand. “Would Fox hire Layla?”
“What? Who? Why?” Layla sputtered.
“Because you need a job,” Quinn reminded her. “And he needs an office manager.”
“I don’t know anything about-you just can’t-”
“You managed a boutique,” Quinn reminded her, “so that’s half the job. Managing. You’re on the anal side of organized, Miss Colored Index Cards and Charts, so I say you can file, keep a calendar, and whatever with the best of them. Anything else, you’ll pick up as you go. Ask Fox, okay, Cal?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“She calls me bossy,” Cybil commented as she finished Quinn’s coffee.
“I call it creative thinking and leadership. Now, go fill that mug up again while I walk Cal to the door so I can give him a big, sloppy you’re-my-hero kiss.”