Page 10 of His Wisconsin Wallflower (Stateside Doms #25)

Chapter Nine

The tall glass cases that had been filled with sandwiches and pastries were now almost empty as the lunch rush simmered down.

Raisa rearranged a few frosted doughnuts, put a discount sign on her colorful fruit tarts then wiped down the counter.

Her gaze drifted to Quinten, who sat at a corner table, scowling at his phone’s screen.

His expression was fierce, and his broad shoulders were tense—not a happy bunny.

He tapped the screen once, then leaned back with a sigh, and ran a hand through his hair. The curls flopped back in a perfect style.

Curious, Raisa hesitated for a moment before deciding to approach. She placed a fresh slice of apple pie and a mug of steaming coffee onto a tray and crossed the room.

Quinten gave her a cursory glance. His expression was still tense, and she almost took a step back.

“I didn’t order anything.”

“I know, but it looked like you needed something sweet and strong.” After setting the tray down in front of him, she gave him a tentative smile. “On the house.”

Quinten looped an arm around her waist and squeezed her opposite hip. “Sweet and strong, hmm. Are you offering yourself?”

What? “Emm, I...” She shook her head to unfog her mind and tried to summon a good answer.

Even through the thick denim waistband, she could feel the heat from his palm as it warred with the heat in her face.

Darn it. I’m blushing again. Stepping back, she said, “Made the pie this morning with a mix of Honeycrisps and Pink Lady.” She sounded way less confident than she would have liked.

“It smells divine.” His tone was distracted, and he was the epitome of... sadness.

Despite her reservations, she scuffled forward again and placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Sighing, he gestured to his phone’s screen. “I was just chatting with Gavin. We’re worried about Vanessa. She seems to have vanished, and I’d like to talk to her. He’s been around town, asking about her. Nobody knows anything.”

“Vanessa Clark.” She swallowed, and her stomach twisted at the mention of her name.

The woman had been one of her biggest tormentors in high school—beautiful, popular, and ruthless—often the instigator of cruelty.

And of course, he’s worried about her. Vanessa had been in his group of peers—an equal—whereas Raisa had been on the outside, existing in the periphery and fun to tease.

As if noticing her spiraling thoughts, Quinten continued. “She’s our bookkeeper, and I desperately need someone with a head for figures. The books look fine on the surface, but something isn’t adding up. I think she’d have some answers, but I can’t get ahold of her.”

“Do you want help?” Raisa asked, surprising even herself.

“Actually, the police are already looking for her. It’s like no one has seen her for days.”

“No, not I didn’t mean with finding her. I wouldn’t know where to start, even if I tried. No, I mean, with the books. I’m good with numbers.”

Quinten looked up, and his left eyebrow quirked up. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” she said simply, “but I’d like to. Let me help.”

Quinten regarded her for a moment, and something shifting in his expression. “You serious?”

She nodded. “I can’t leave just yet, but once the lunch rush dies down—if Lila’s okay to cover—I can come with you.”

His mouth curved. “That works. I’ll hang around until then.”

Before either of them could say more, the door swung open with a sharp jingle, and Beth swept in, flanked by two of her usual posse. Her heels clicked against the floor as she approached, her lips curving into a saccharine smile.

“Good afternoon.” Beth’s eyes narrowed as she took in how close Raisa was standing to Quinten.

Oh god, how embarrassing.

Raisa fought the urge to put space between her and the gorgeous man sitting beside her.

“Make me a latte.”

“Good afternoon, Beth.” Ignoring the rudeness and imagining her ice shield, Raisa nodded at the two women behind her.

“Devaney. Megan,” she managed to say politely before returning her attention to Beth.

“You can place your order with Lila. I’ll be with you in a moment, and do check out the fruit tarts. They are discounted right now.”

“Well, I don’t want hips like yours, so I will skip the sweets.” Beth’s words dripped mock sweetness. “Maybe you should do the same. Or exercise a teensy bit more, huh? How about you move your fat ass to the counter and. Get. Me. My. Coffee!” The latter words came out cutting and menacing.

Raisa forced herself to stay calm, even as she curled her hands into fists.

“Beth!” Quinten’s voice cut through the room, and he rose from his chair, towering over them both.

“What the hell? She might be serving drinks and food, but she’s not your servant, and there are other customers who came in before you.

Get off your high horse, take a seat, and wait for Lila or Raisa to come to your table. ”

Beth’s cheeks flushed, and her expression hardened. “Yeesh, Quin, are you really speaking up for Wallflower Winslow now?”

Raisa couldn’t hold back the flinch at the slur.

Quinten crossed his arms. “That nickname is juvenile, Beth. I never should have gone along with it back in high school, and it’s long past time to let it go.”

Beth looked over her shoulder, obviously expecting the other women there, but they had scuttled away when Quinten rose. Wise decision. The man could be downright scary. For once being at a disadvantage, Beth huffed and turned to join her friends at a table near the back.

Raisa gnawed on her bottom lip, her chest tightened, and she ducked her head slightly, brushing her hands against her apron as though smoothing away invisible wrinkles.

He didn’t have to do that. Heat prickled the back of her neck, ears and cheeks, but other than the embarrassment, a flicker of gratitude warmed her.

She glanced at Quinten, whose firm stance was unwavering.

Her breath hitched. Why did he have to make it so hard to stay guarded?

After serving Beth and a few other customers, Raisa turned to Lila. “Do you mind staying a while longer and running the shop for me? I’m heading over to Quinten’s for a couple hours.”

Lila smiled. “Not at all. I could use the extra cash anyway.”

Quinten and Raisa stepped outside, the cold air biting at their faces.

The snow had stopped, and sunlight gleamed off the rooftops and icy sidewalks.

The cheerful winter sky seemed to be mocking the simmering anger in Quinten’s chest. He clenched his jaw and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

What the hell was wrong with Beth? Her behavior had been uncalled for, and the way she’d sneered at Raisa made his stomach churn.

Did Raisa always have to deal with this kind of treatment?

Or had Beth’s jealous streak been triggered by his obvious interest in Raisa?

He didn’t doubt Beth had picked up on that. It was hard to miss.

“Sorry about Beth.” Quinten cleared his throat as residual frustration squeeze his windpipe and made it hard to speak. “She’s always been… difficult and self-absorbed.”

Raisa gave a small shrug. “It’s fine.” She burrowed into her oversized coat like she could use it as a shield against the old pain and insecurity. “I’m used to it.”

He stopped mid-step and turned to look at her. Narrowing his eyes, he stated, “You shouldn’t have to be.”

Her gaze flicked up to meet his. Whatever she was feeling stayed carefully guarded, and he hated not being able to read her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, almost as though the words cost her something. Turning her gaze forward, she started to walk again.

They continued in silence for a short while, their boots crunching over the snow-covered pavement. Quinten stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. She seemed lost in thoughts. Her jaw was tight, her shoulders hunched slightly like she was bracing for something, or keeping too much in.

There would be a day she wouldn’t hide her emotions from him, but that took time, and he needed to win her trust first. He returned his gaze to the path ahead as if it was a metaphor for the way forward with Raisa.

When they reached the office, he pushed open the door and held it for her. The warmth inside was immediate and comforting, though the tension in his chest didn’t ease.

“Raisa!” his mother exclaimed, looking up from the desk with a smile that brightened the room. “It’s so nice to see you. How are you doing?”

“Hello, Mrs. Carrington.” Raisa’s beautiful and sweet smile appeared. “I’m fine. How are you?”

Before his mother could answer, Corbin emerged from the back, his usual grin firmly in place. “Hey, big bro. Raisa.” He nodded at her.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Nicholson farmhouse, today?”

“No. Gavin is working on the old farmhouse renovations, today. I came in to help you with the books.”

Quinten frowned. “Well, oh, okay. And how about Gavin’s assignment?”

“We gave that to Bill Oswood and his crew.”

Raisa perked up at the mention of Bill. “Bill is a great craftsman. He helped with some renovations in the shop a few years back. The man for sure knows what he’s doing.”

“True.” Quinten nodded absently, before turning back to his brother.

“Raisa offered to lend a hand, too.” He led them both into the office and took Raisa’s coat, before leading her to the desk piled high with ledgers and papers.

His thoughts lingered on her smile, the way her face lit up when she said hello to his mother.

Forcing his mind to the business at hand, he offered Raisa the chair. “Let’s see if we can find where things don’t add up.” Pressing a few symbols on the keyboard he booted the computer and navigated to the accounting program.

With the bare minimum of explanation, Raisa was handling the mouse and keyboard like it was something she did daily. A few times, she asked for clarification, but he never had to explain something twice to her.

While she flipped through the records and crosschecked numbers on the computer, Quinten admired her tenacity.

He couldn’t help but watch her, the way her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed together when she found something interesting or the way the point of her pink tongue would touch her upper lip before slipping away in an instant.

The memory of their kiss the other night surged back, and his pulse quickened.

He’d wanted more then, and the thought of her focused intensity transported his mind dangerously close to uncharted territory.

Did she bring that same focus to everything she did—to her work, to the numbers in those ledgers… to lovemaking?

She paused, pointing to a line item. “This payment to Bill Oswood … the account number isn’t right.”

Quinten leaned closer, his knee brushing hers under the desk. The touch sent a jolt of lust straight to his groin, but he ignored his impulses and focused on the matter at hand. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Raisa leaned back and nodded. “I told you he worked on the bakery. I remember his account number.”

“You remember his account number?” Quinten almost slurred the words as he tried to wrap his head around that nugget of info.

Are you kidding me?

“That’s as impressive as it is unbelievable.”

She shrugged. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze and murmured, “I have an eidetic memory.”

He stared at her for a moment, then let out a laugh. This woman! “Thank you!” He gripped her cheeks and pulled her in for a hard kiss before releasing her. Resting his forehead against her, he whispered, “You never cease to amaze me.”

Color crept over her face and spread to her ears and neck. Now he wanted to make her blush more often. He grinned when she quickly focused back on the records.