Page 11 of A Newport Christmess

A large duffel bag was on the floor—the object that had caused the thud when he’d first walked in, apparently—and he picked it up and flung it over his shoulder effortlessly, like some sort of dashing sailor about to bid farewell. He paused at the threshold. “I’ll make sure the front door is locked. I’d hate for some unsuspecting robber to meet his untimely demise by frying pan.” His tone was flat, unamused even, but there was a peculiar spark in his eyes, and an unexpected trill of pleasure shot through me.

“That’s a good idea,” I said dumbly, still reeling from my odd reaction to him.

His heavy snow boots echoed in the narrow stairwell.

“Night,” I called when he reached the apartment door at the bottom.

He glanced up at me, and I thought I glimpsed a small flicker of a smile. “Night, Quinn.”

I shut the door with more force than was necessary. What had just happened—the strange encounter; the attractive, disgruntled man; and that fleeting feeling brought on by a simple look?

And what would Cody have thought of the situation?

It didn’t matter.

Cody had given up any rights to my heart when he shattered it a year ago.

I gave a resolute nod, as though that would convince my heart that Cody didn’t still hold all its broken pieces in his grasp, and bolted the door behind me.

FOUR

LANDON

I slammed my laptop shut, aggravated I didn’t have a single work email to respond to. I mean, I knew it was Saturday, but that never stopped people from contacting me. I wouldn’t put it past Kade to have seen to it that a do-not-contact memo was sent to the whole blasted company while I was away from the office. Especially now that I knew he was a co-conspirator with my sister—or, more accurately, her lackey. I should have guessed his meddling meant he was up to something more sinister than getting me home early before the wedding. But, to both of their eventual disappointment, I had zero intention of allowing them to succeed. Nikki could scheme all she wanted when it involved other peoples’ lives, but not mine. I’d been there, done that. I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

My fingers drummed mindlessly on the small kitchen table when a scraping sound from upstairs forced my gaze to the ceiling. What on earth was Quinn doing up there? Rearranging all the furniture in my house? Or maybe it was my lack of distraction that made me more aware of her constant movements upstairs. The ESPN highlights on in the background wasn’t cutting it.

I pulled out my phone.

Landon: Hey, Peter. Just checking to make sure the contractors got the details about the property’s easement yesterday.

Peter Jennings: They did.

Landon: Thanks.

Landon: If anything comes up, be sure to reach out.

Peter Jennings: I think we’ll be good until you get back. Enjoy your time off.

I stared at the comment, that familiar tightness squeezing my chest. I wondered what Peter thought of my vacation. What the other employees thought about it. I enjoyed my job. Really. But it was moments like these I regretted taking a position at Carrigan Enterprises. The nepotism was undeniable (and rightfully so—it was a family business), and while I wasn’t a Carrigan—my lack of hundreds of millions would attest to that—this wasn’t the first time I’d been given special treatment because of my connection to Kade. And with how both he and Nikki liked to intervene in my life, it probably wouldn’t be the last.

A loud bang from above had me glancing up again. Maybe I should go see if Quinn needed help with whatever she was doing to cause that racket. The last thing I wanted right now was damage to my hardwood floors. With how little I’d been home since the flooring had been put in, it was basically in pristine condition. Yep. That was why I was going up. To save my floors. Not to see the oddly endearing woman that was currently residing in my house.

I stood, and then I promptly sat back down. Was I that weak? My going upstairs right now would mean I was eating right out of Nikki’s hands. It couldn’t matter what bait Nikki dangled in front of me—even if the bait was extremely effective with big blue eyes, a contagious smile, and a face that refused to dislodge from my mind—I’d rather starve. Metaphorically.

I folded my arms, resolved. Besides, whatever matchmaking intuition Nikki claimed to have, Quinn was not my type. I mean, yes, she was gorgeous with that wavy, long, blonde hair and sun-kissed skin that was a rare sight in Rhode Island mid-December, but I was nearly certain she was one of Nikki’s social media friends, and there was no chance I’d allow myself to fall for another influencer. I’d washed my hands of all of it after Eliza.

My phone chimed, and I read the incoming text.

Nikki: Hey! Did you get Christmas decorations up yet?

I groaned, knowing exactly where this was headed.

Landon: Nope.

Nikki: I’d like the place to feel somewhat festive for when the guys get there.

Nikki: And I’m sure Quinn wouldn’t mind a few decorations either.