Unable to help himself, Mick stroked a hand down Quinn’s back and palmed her sweet ass. She stirred and stretched, and then froze for a beat before lifting her head.

Her face was adorably sleepy looking, her hair a wild, rioted mass of waves all over the place. She blinked once, slow as an owl, taking in their positions. “Forgot to warn you that I’m a bed hog,” she murmured. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He paused. “Quinn.”

“Uh-oh,” she said, her eyes clearing a little bit. “That’s a very serious tone.” And this time when she tried to pull free, he let her. She sat up, tugging the sheet with her and stared down at him. “If you’re going to tell me you’ve changed your mind about regrets, just keep it to yourself—”

“I’m an engineer,” he said. “I run a structural engineering firm with three other partners in the Bay Area.”

She stared at him. “What?”

He reached for her, but she scooted back. “Wait,” she said, holding him off. “You told me you were the B and B maintenance guy. You lied to me?”

At her tone, Coop gave a low, worried “wuff.”

“It’s okay,” Mick told him. “And no,” he said to Quinn. “I didn’t lie to you. I never said I was the B and B maintenance guy.”

“Yes you did.” She stared at him some more, thinking so hard her ears were smoking. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re right, you didn’t. I just assumed. And you let me.” She scrambled off the bed, snatching the entire sheet as she did, wrapping it around herself like she was cold.

Or needed armor.

In any case, it left Mick bare-ass naked on the bed. He sat up and opened his mouth but she whirled on him, pointing a finger in his direction. “Why did you let me assume that?”

“A hot woman asks me for help?” he asked. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have refused you. And to be clear, even if you weren’t hot, I wouldn’t have refused you.”

She just narrowed her eyes. “That’s your defense?”

“Well, you’ve got to admit,” he said, “it’s a little funny. Though the joke’s really on me because I had no idea what I was doing under that sink, I just got lucky.”

“It’s still dripping,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, see, my dad would’ve loved that. It proves him right, that I never listened. He tried to teach me everything he knew.” He let out a low laugh. “And hey, it made me think of him fondly, which is a rarity, so that’s actually a favor you did me.”

“This isn’t a joke, Mick.” She closed her eyes. “Why were you always parked right out in front of the office, like you belong there?”

“Because besides staying here, I’m working with the owner, who wants to sell this place and lease it back.”

She was holding tightly to the sheet. Coop moved close and leaned on her. She crouched down and hugged the dog. “What is it with my life?” she asked Coop. “Why is lying and deceiving me some kind of new trend? Or is it just that everyone thinks they can decide for me what I need to know and what I don’t?”

Coop licked her chin in commiseration.

Understanding her reaction now, and also feeling like a complete asshole, Mick got out of the bed. “It wasn’t like that, Quinn.”

“No,” she said quickly, holding up a hand to ward him off. She took another step back and caught her foot in the sheet.

Before she could go down, he caught her, all soft, warm curves he’d been hoping to get another taste of this morning, but she broke free. Sending him a scalding glance over her bare shoulder, she turned to look for her clothes, grabbing pieces as she came to them, yanking them on.

“Wuff,” Coop said, clearly deeply concerned.

Quinn gave the dog another quick, soothing hug that Mick wished she’d bestow on him. Instead, she leveled him with a withering stare. “To be clear, this, between us, was just—” She jabbed a finger at the bed. “That. And it’s done now. I’m done. We’re done.” Her phone rang and she snatched it up. “Hello.” She paused, listening, giving him a moment to appreciate that she’d gotten her jeans up but not fastened, and her top only halfway on before she’d frozen in place. “You’re kidding me.” Another pause. “Oh for God’s sake, yes, I’m coming.” She disconnected, shoved the phone into her pocket, and to his disconcertion, finished dressing in two seconds, muttering something about “those effing chickens are going to effing kill me.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling on his clothes as well.

“My life.”

“Quinn—”

She shoved her feet into her shoes. “The hens made a run for it.”

“The what?”

“I know, right? But maybe they’ve got the right idea, running like hell.” And then she was gone, slamming out of her own room.

Coop’s expression said, I can’t believe how stupid you are.

A fact Mick had to agree with.

IN TILLY’S WORLD, she was the caregiver. She’d taken care of her mom. The house. Her friends. Chuck. It was what she did.

She’d been taking care of her mom’s chickens for years on top of everything else and she’d never once left the pen open. And she wouldn’t have done it that morning either except Chuck’s silly girlfriend had a silly hissy fit when Tilly had eaten the last two eggs—like there weren’t more out back.

So Tilly had dragged herself out of bed half an hour before her usual time to stop the fighting that was coming through the thin walls.

“I didn’t sign up for a teenager, Chuck!”

“She’s a good kid. A really good kid.”

“To you, maybe. But if it’s not you, she’s sullen as hell, and I think she stole a twenty from my wallet.”

“Here’s another twenty,” Chuck said. “And she just lost her mom. She’s earned the sullen . . .”

So yeah, Tilly had gone to the hen coop with a bad ’tude, and somehow she’d managed to leave the gate open. The stupid-ass chickens had escaped and were currently running around the yard acting like their heads had been cut off.

Which made it official—her life sucked. The chickens were out, she hated school, and her mom was gone. Her mom hadn’t been perfect, but she’d been Tilly’s. Now she had no one except a sister who couldn’t wait to vanish.

Greta and Trinee had come out of the café to stare at the loose chickens, but were no help.

“Baby girl, there’s no way on God’s green earth I’m chasing chickens,” Trinee said.

“And don’t look at me,” Greta added. “You think this body got its curves by running?”

“So to be clear,” Tilly said, hands on hips, “no one’s chasing the chickens?”

They both just looked at her.

Whatever. Mad at the world, Tilly had used the number she hadn’t planned on ever using and called Quinn. “You said I could call you for anything . . .”

Five minutes later, Quinn’s Lexus arrived. “What happened?” Quinn asked.

Tilly shrugged. “Someone let the chickens out.”