She stilled, curiosity taking over. “Oh. Why?” Maybe he snored.

He grimaced. “I have nightmares, and sometimes it takes a little while for me to remember where I am. I can’t take the risk of hurting you.”

“Nightmares about what?”

His mouth opened and closed. He cleared his throat. “About my time in the service. Things I saw and did.”

The man was confiding in her. She shouldn’t like it so much. “Like PTSD?” She’d heard about the diagnosis from movies on television, but she’d never really understood the concept. Feeling for him, she tucked her hands at his waist.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever explained that to somebody you wanted to sleep with?” She ran her palm along his whiskers. His five-o’clock shadow was undeniably sexy.

“I haven’t wanted to stay all night with anybody. Until now.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and tugged her toward the lodge. “It isn’t an excuse. I haven’t found anybody I liked enough to explore the situation with—so it just seemed easier to get out of Dodge. I’m willing to give it a shot now, however.”

Hope flared inside her to be quickly quashed. They couldn’t have more than right now, because she was out of Maverick as soon as the art show concluded. “Thank you for confiding in me. Now I understand, and I won’t push you again.”

He exhaled heavily. “Juliet? You’re using the high-society tone again.”

Quinn held Amy at arm’s length through the dance, fighting the urge to step on her foot and break it. What kind of a woman asked a man who clearly had come with a date to dance? For a split second, he’d considered refusing. But the governor had been watching, and his mama had raised him right, so he’d accepted.

This was the longest damn song on record.

He glanced around. Someone had decorated the sprawling room with green balloons and purple streamers, lending a party atmosphere to the rough wooden decor. A hand-carved bar made up one wall, a dance floor the other, and tables scattered throughout. A DJ played a collection of country tunes, and a general festiveness filled the air.

His gaze caught on Juliet. Kissing her when she’d arrived hadn’t been his plan, but the second he saw her, he’d wanted a taste. The graceful redhead chatted with Colton by the bar. Quinn’s heart thumped. Sure, he always figured he’d fall for somebody, get married, and have a family. But his feelings for the woman hit him like a bucking bronc. He figured his ideal mate would be someone suited to the ranch—at least somebody who could ride a horse. Maybe a member of the Kooskia Tribe. Nothing had prepared him for soft Juliet Montgomery, a woman who lost her temper and still didn’t swear at him.

He liked her kindness, her gentleness, her odd, inherent classiness.

Confiding in her had been almost too easy, and his heart felt lighter since he’d trusted her with the truth about his nightmares. Had his taking her home the other night hurt her feelings? God, he hoped not.

Maybe he was ready to take a chance with her. But what if he woke up from a nightmare and hurt her? He’d never forgive himself.

Without question, he wanted Juliet Montgomery in his bed—all night. Maybe it was time to trust not only her but himself.

Though she was keeping something from him. He was well trained, and he had excellent instincts. The fact that she didn’t trust him hurt. In fact, it damn well pissed him off. The woman was going to come clean and soon.

She met his gaze and raised an eyebrow at Amy, who was attempting to plaster herself against him. Juliet rolled her eyes.

His instant smile felt good. Damn good.

Amy tried again to muscle closer. “You smell as good as always, Quinn.”

Her perfume choked him. He much preferred Juliet’s natural citrus scent. “Thanks.”

“Why did we break up, anyway?”

“We didn’t exactly date.” One foolish night after a fund-raiser for Montana forests last year didn’t count.

“Why not?” Amy batted thickly mascaraed eyes.

The song ended, and he stepped back. “Thank you for the dance.” He made it to Juliet’s side just Colton finished telling a joke. He flashed her a grin. “Juliet, we’re dancing.”

Juliet pursed her lips. “Loni? Your son is incredibly bossy.”

Loni grinned. “He gets bossiness from his daddy and his stepdaddy. I’m an angel.”

Colton coughed beer up his nose. “Yeah, Mom. An angel.”

“Where are Leila and Tom?” Quinn frowned.

Loni shrugged. “Leila told Tom she hadn’t had any Grandpa time lately and was feeling…what was it?”

“Abandoned,” Jake said wryly.

“Yeah, abandoned.” Loni reached for a glass of wine. “You know Tom—he’s a softy. So they planned a day of shopping, an early dinner, and a movie about lost puppies in the city.”

Quinn slid an arm around Juliet’s shoulders and smiled at Jake. “Your daughter is going to be a dangerous woman someday.”

“I hope so.” Jake handed Sophie a glass of ginger ale.

The governor and Amy wandered up. He puffed out his chest, and his big belly pushed out the red flannel. “Did you hear about Bennington?”

Quinn slowly turned his head. “What about Bennington?”

“He’s withdrawing from the sheriff’s race.” Amy’s eyes lit with glee. “A scandal.”

Quinn’s gut clenched.

Miles and Shelley Lansing wandered up. “Did I hear scandal?” Shelley asked.

“Yes.” The governor leaned closer to the group, a sly smile on his face. “Apparently his wife has been growing marijuana in the basement. Five plants.”

Quinn frowned. “The plants are medicinal, right? I mean, didn’t old Mr. Bennington, her father, have cancer?”

The governor shrugged. “I don’t care the reason. A candidate can’t be breaking the law and growing pot. The news outlets found out about it, and it’s over.”

It was almost too obvious how the reporters found out. Quinn studied the governor. The question was, how had the governor found out?

Juliet set down her wineglass. “Why would Bennington have to withdraw from the race if his wife was the one breaking the law?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Really? A candidate must only associate with lawful people, or he has poor judgment. It’s the poor judgment, not the pot growing, that will bring down Bennington.”

“Oh,” Juliet said, reaching to fiddle with her pendant. “How unfortunate.”

Colton slid an arm around Loni’s shoulders. “Mom? Let’s dance.” He grabbed her and spun her onto the dance floor.

Sophie slipped her arm through Quinn’s. “Juliet, do you mind if I dance with my big brother?”

“Go ahead. Just be careful—he likes to lead.” Juliet smiled.

“Yes, I do.” Quinn directed his statement at the redhead, while leading his sister-in-law onto the dance floor. Juliet blushed, and he chuckled.

The outside door opened, and two men stepped inside. He didn’t know them. Both had riding clothes on, but one of them wore boat shoes. He looked closer. The guy with boat shoes had bloodshot eyes and a red nose.

Quinn caught Jake’s eye.

Chapter Eight

Juliet enjoyed watching Quinn spin Sophie around on the dance floor. She tightened her hand around the wineglass. Her first and only for the day. A lady never had more than one drink, never leaned against anything, and always smiled in social situations. Her mother had drummed such rules into her head from an early age, and even now, she couldn’t help but follow them.

Amy leaned against the bar. “So, you and Quinn, huh?”

Juliet kept the smile in place. “Your boots are lovely, Amy.”

Amy glanced down. “Oh, yeah. They’re from New York.” She glanced up, her eyes sparking. “You know, where you said you visited once in a while.”

“Yes. I know where New York is.” Juliet ignored the trickle of unease wandering along her shoulders.

“Good, but you’re not from the city, right?” Amy’s smile flashed too many teeth.

“No.” Juliet glanced for an escape from the blonde.

“Politics is a messy business.” Amy reached for another drink from the bartender.

Juliet took a sip. “Good thing Quinn isn’t in politics. He just wants to be the sheriff to do his job and protect people.”

“What will he do if he loses?” Amy gulped her drink.

Juliet’s face might go into tremors if she smiled any longer. “Quinn won’t lose. He’s an excellent lawman.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Amy leaned closer. “Our investigators haven’t discovered anything about you yet, but they just started looking.” With a smirk, she wandered away.

Juliet’s throat dried. If her past came out, the news would hurt Quinn. Panicked, she glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at her.

His focus was on the door.

Two men stood barely inside, their gazes sweeping the area. One wiped his nose on his sleeve. Then he touched the other guy’s shoulder and jerked his head toward the bar. The other guy’s hands shook, and he sniffed loudly.

Jake grasped her elbow. “Juliet? Please get Sophie and my mom to the restroom.” Jake smiled, but the grin didn’t come close to reaching his eyes.

An urgency rode his tone and shot butterflies into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, who gave her an encouraging nod. Numbly, she smiled and glided across the dance floor. Somehow, she gathered both Loni and Sophie on the way.

Sophie leaned in. “What’s going on? Quinn sent me to the restroom with you.”

“I don’t know.” Juliet glanced over her shoulder. “Head toward the bathroom, and I’ll find out.”

“I think you’re supposed to come, too.”

Yeah, but she might be the problem. While Juliet didn’t recognize the guys at the door, that didn’t mean they didn’t recognize her. “I’ll be fine. You’re pregnant—get to safety. I’ll come get you once I figure out why Quinn is on alert.”

They reached the doorway to the restrooms, and Juliet waited to make sure Sophie and Loni headed inside before turning back around. She tried to appear casual, forcing herself to relax against the wall as if waiting for her friend. Her heart thundered, and her mouth went dry. If anybody was hurt because of her, she’d never forgive herself.

The two guys had reached the bar, probably unaware Quinn and his brothers flanked them. Quinn motioned Colton to the side and angled closer to the really twitchy guy.

Juliet frowned. Why was the guy twitching so much? He looked like he was coming down from a bad high.

Quinn wasn’t armed, darn it. Why didn’t he have a gun? Didn’t most off-duty cops have an off-duty piece? Hopefully, he had a gun tucked in his boot.

The twitchy guy swiveled, big silver gun drawn.

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Juliet stood up straight. Whatever instincts had told Quinn the newcomers might be dangerous were excellent. She widened her stance. Nobody was getting between her and the bathroom door, gun or not.

The guy with the gun pointed the barrel right at Quinn. “Back off.”

Quinn held his hands out, stepping away a foot, shifting his body between the man and Juliet. That probably wasn’t an accident. “What do you want?”

“Money.” His hand shaking, the guy nodded to his friend. “This is a fund-raiser, and we want the money.”

“Okay,” Quinn said, his voice low and soothing. “Barney, give this guy whatever’s in the till.”

The bartender nodded, his skinny chin wobbling as he hit the cash register and the drawer slid out.

The second guy threw a bag at Barney, and he started filling it.

The first guy laughed, showing yellowed teeth. “This is a fund-raiser, man. We want all the money, not only the bar money.”

Jake somehow edged closer to the second guy without seeming to move his feet. “The tickets were purchased weeks ago. The only money here in the lodge is at the bar, and you have that.”

Quinn nodded. “Take the cash and leave.”

The gunman’s face turned a mottled red. His hand shook more. “There’s no more money?” he yelled.

Jake shook his head. “Nope.”

The guy focused on Jake for the briefest of seconds.

That was all Quinn needed. Faster than a whip and just as deadly, he struck out, grabbing the guy by the wrist and lifting his gun hand. An elbow to the gut, a stomp to the ankle, and the guy went down.

Quinn yanked the gun free.

Jake took care of the second guy with a quick punch to the nose. The guy crashed to the ground, blood spurting.

Colton groaned. “I didn’t get to hit anybody.”

The guy on the floor lunged up, and Colton nailed him with a sweeping sidekick to the face. The gunman smashed into the bar.