by Anthology
No, it’s totally stupid. But I’ll still go. This charming, mysterious, mechanic has somehow managed to weasel his way into my heart. Tonight, he’ll either delve deeper into it, or I’ll cut him out. I’m fifty-fifty at the moment. Okay, maybe sixty-forty. Seventy-thirty?
The sound of my name pulls me from my thoughts. Travis’ voice seeps into the backseat. “You did it, man.” He shakes his head. “How the hell did you get Quinn Lawson to loosen up?”
“I’m just that awesome.”
“Whatever, dude. I know you better than that. What did you do, bribe her?”
“Yep. With the millions I have stashed in foreign banks.”
“Point taken. What did you guys do?”
“Nothing special. Had some drinks, blew some green at casinos, lost my truck, and wound up at a hotel.”
I lean back and relax. He’s not elaborating. Seems Grayson doesn’t kiss and tell.
Travis huffs. “So a typical Saturday night for you.”
“Anything but typical.”
“Well, you won the bet. Got Quinn to be human for a night. When are we going to Vegas?”
Something gets lodged in my throat. Shivers like snakes slither down my arms as I wait for Grayson’s reply. Maybe he won’t. Maybe the bet Travis made was one-sided. Or with someone else.
Grayson’s not a part of it.
“Eh, have a good honeymoon first. We’ll figure it out later.”
I’m going to be sick.
“A bet, huh?” I say, leaning forward so they know I’m still here. “I was a fucking bet?”
Grayson’s attention snaps to me. “It’s not what you think.”
Travis’ gaze finds me through the rearview mirror. “Lighten up, Quinn. Emma was in on it. She thought it would be good for you.”
I cross my arms. “All three of you are in on this? Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.”
Strangely, I’m not even mad at Travis and Emma. I half-expected them to manipulate me into something. But Grayson? After the connection I thought we had?
It’s not logical, I know.
“It was meaningless,” Grayson says, as if that helps. “The bet wasn’t about you; it was about me. They didn’t think you’d agree to go out with me.”
“I didn’t, remember? You kidnapped me and stole my phone.”
“We were just supposed to have a fun evening, that’s all. No stipulations, no sex, no anything.” He sounds like he’s pleading with me. I don’t do pity.
“You made the bet, and I was the target. We’re done.”
We’re almost at the church. Good. I need air.
Even before Travis has the car stopped, I shove the door open and get out. I can’t stay for a second longer. My insides are burning with anger.
Grayson throws his door open too. “Quinn—”
I hold my hand up. “Stay the hell away from me.”
Grayson
Quinn won’t look at me. She’s focused on her sister, purposefully avoiding my gaze. I’m the third member of Travis’ entourage, and she’s the maid of honor. I can’t get close to her.
Damn, she’s gorgeous. Hair in long curls down her back, little lavender flowers pinned throughout. I wish I could tell her how stunning she is.
I force myself to pay attention to my best friend pledging his life to Emma. He’s crazy happy. Even from my angle I can see the dude’s eyes gleam. Freaking glisten.
Get a hold of yourself, man.
I glance at Quinn again. She’s got her lower lip between her teeth, and all I can think about is how those lips will forever remain a mystery to me. I’ll never know for sure what they taste like.
She blinks, her eyes dipping down to her bouquet. They stay there for a moment, and when they come back up, they find me. Hard and hurt, they sparkle in a way they shouldn’t.
I’m sorry, I mouth.
Her shoulders rise and fall in a sigh as she turns back to her sister. She straightens, her chin lifting in avoidance of me.
I’ve lost her.
I don’t even know if I ever had her, but it sure as hell felt like it. The way she’d look at me with those blazing mismatched green and blue irises, like she knew what she was doing to me. How her stare lingered on my body. How she teased, flirted, and seemed to relax into my touch. Stupid, but I thought we had something.
Travis kisses Emma, and I clap. He holds her hand up in the air as they’re pronounced husband and wife. My buddy gets the girl, and I get the cold shoulder. Welcome to my life.
I link arms with one of Emma’s nurse friends and walk down the aisle. Quinn isn’t in the foyer when I get there. I’m not sure what I hope to accomplish by talking to her. She’s made it clear I’m not worth her time.
I tried. Got one night. At least my track record is consistent.
Chapter Ten
Quinn
My sister looks radiant. She’s glowing, and her eyes sparkle. The dress is phenomenal on her, strapless and poufy at the skirt. Giant curls cascade from the French twist in her hair. Heck, even Travis cleans up well in a tux.
I take a sip of chardonnay. It’s still my first glass. I’m going easy on the alcohol tonight.
My parents are on the dance floor now. Mom’s mother-of-the-bride dress slims ten years off of her. Dad’s smiling at her like they’re the newlyweds. I’m lucky. I don’t know if I’ll ever have what they have, but they’re proof that it’s possible. Proof that maybe I can find it too someday.
Unbidden, my gaze wanders to the bar. Grayson is there, leaning against the counter and talking with some girl. She’s wearing a minidress with twelve-inch heels, and my first thought is that I hope she rolls an ankle.
I’ve avoided him since Travis dropped me off at the church. He made one attempt to talk to me before the wedding, but I brushed him off. I must’ve hurt him more than I thought, because he didn’t try again. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that persistence can be broken. Jab someone enough and eventually they’ll stop coming back for more.
Minidress tips her head back and laughs. She’s holding one side of her lower lip between her teeth. Oh come on. She’s batting her lashes? What is she, sixteen? IQ of one hundred two max. Surely Grayson’s not interested.
I swallow as I study him. Relaxed posture. Drink on the table with his hand curved around it. Half-grin. Eyes trained on her, pausing only to glance down at her cleavage. I blow out a breath. Yeah, he’s interested.
I’m not bothered. No, of course I’m not. He’s free to do what he wants. He got what he wanted from me, and I don’t care about him at all.
“Hello, dear,” Aunt Beatrice says, coming up and holding onto my forearm. “Your father tells me you got yourself some chickens. Real good egg layers, I hear.”
I’m about to tell her she’s got the wrong person. Explain, again, who I am and what I do. But then I think about Emma. About Grayson, last night, this morning. What he said about my walls and being vulnerable. Not being afraid to love.
I relax. Smile at Aunt Bea. “Three of them. Golden Comets.”
“How wonderful! You know, I used to raise chickens back in the day. Every morning and every evening, I’d take out my basket and collect the eggs. Darling creatures, chickens.”
“Yes, they are.”
She leans in close and lowers her voice. “Just between the two of us, this wedding is horrid. The food was undercooked, and they didn’t salt the watermelon. And the bride’s dress. Shame.” She shakes her head. “It’s so tight around her poor legs she can hardly walk. She should have consulted you, dear. Your wedding dress was lovely. Where is that husband of yours?”
“At home with the chickens. They’re young and we couldn’t leave them alone.”
She pats my arm. “Of course, of course, dear. Oh, look. Is that President Roosevelt? I have a few things I’d like to discuss with that man.” She scurries off, her hand raised. “President Roosevelt!”
“That’s Travis’s grandfather,” Dad says, coming up behind me
. “He’s in for a surprise.” He rubs my shoulder. “I heard what you said to Bea.”
“Yeah, well. She deserved a break from me.”
“It was nice of you.”
I shrug, then nod toward Emma. “She worried over nothing. The wedding went off without a problem.”
“Her biggest concern was you.”
“Eh. She doesn’t need to concern herself over me. I’ll be fine.”
“She’s your sister. She’ll always worry about you.” He brings me in against him. “Your mom and I worry too.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking. Lyme disease is prevalent up here in New England, and maybe it would be best to find a lab or university closer to the source. Do you and mom still have a room for me?”
Dad squeezes me. “You keep talking like that, and I might even have a job for you.”
“At MIT? Are you kidding me?”
“We’re always looking for the most brilliant minds in the field. Besides, I think Karen Vichillis would love to have an associate biologist.”
“Me? Working with Dr. Karen Vichillis? That’d be unbelievable!” I gasp out a laugh. Throw my arms around my father’s neck. “I would love the recommendation!”
Mom rushes over, grinning big. “They’re playing the Hokey Pokey next. Come on.” She takes Dad’s elbow. “You too, Quinn. It’ll be fun!”
“How many glasses of wine have you had, Mom?”
“Two. Six? I don’t know. Hokey Pokey time!”
There’s no way she’ll expect me to follow them. And maybe that’s why I do. It’s a wedding. It’s my family. It’s supposed to be fun, right?
I squeeze into the circle beside my sister. Shock expands over her features before she breaks into the biggest smile, until now reserved only for Travis. Take that, new brother.
By the time the music starts, the dance floor is overflowing. The circle stretches beyond the make-shift wooden floor, and of course Travis, Emma, and I are right in front of the speakers. It also means Grayson is in my direct line of sight. His eyes flick to me, and slowly the corner of his mouth curves upward.
There’s reverence there. Pride. And something else I can’t identify.
He’s still watching me as I put my backside in and take my backside out, and for a moment, I wish he was shaking his all about next to me.
Grayson
I know Quinn’s every move. I know when she’s gone to the ladies’ room, what she’s drinking, who she’s spoken with, what tables she’s visited. Even with this chick talking to me, I notice Quinn’s Aunt Beatrice hobble over to her. Crazy thing is, Quinn held a conversation with her and actually smiled. And Beatrice didn’t walk away confused and dejected. Man, I’d have given anything to hear what they talked about.
“The tips are, like, waaaay good, so I let them gawk,” what’s-her-name says. “I can tell even before they sit down how much I’ll probably get. You’d think the suits tip more, but that’s not true.” She bats her eyes, running a manicured nail up my arm. “The bikers are the best tippers. Do you own a motorcycle?”
“No.” I lost interest in this conversation ten minutes ago. At first she was kinda funny, talking about how Travis and she used to go snowboarding when he went to visit. Apparently my best friend is a shitty snowboarder. Then she got annoying.
“Do you want one?”
“Haven’t thought about it.” I have thought about it. Of course I want one.
She bites her lip in an obvious move of what she’s going to ask. “So you got a room here?”
“Nah, I’m heading home tonight. I’ve got work to do.” Also not true. Travis is going back to Atlantic City with me in the morning to find my truck.
“Ah, that’s such a shame. Got a car?”
Quinn is with her father now. She’s hugging him, elated by something. That’s how she should look all the time—happy. Damn, when that woman smiles, the sun seems like a low-wattage light bulb in comparison.
“Truck.”
“With a backseat or tinted windows?”
Quinn’s mom is with them now, and she’s one drink short of being completely wasted. They’re so different, Quinn and her mom, except Quinn looks just like her. Same hair color, freckles, and that sunny smile.
“No.”
Annoying Girl twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “I’m okay with it if you are.” She slides off the stool and hooks her arm with mine. “Ready?”
No way. I laugh out loud. Is Quinn really going to dance?
She falls into the circle of people beside her sister, and I suddenly realize what they’re doing. A new side of Quinn.
The music starts, Quinn puts her right arm in, and I’m entranced. The dance is lame and childish, but Quinn is adorable out there. She shines the brightest, blocking everyone else out.
“Hey!” The chick waves a hand in front of my face. “Hello? I’m ready to go have some fun.”
I pull my arm away from her, not taking my eyes off Quinn. “Me too, but not with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not interested.”
“Oh really? Then who are you interested in?” She must follow my gaze, because she makes a puking noise. “Quinn-The-Bitch-Lawson?” She holds her hands up. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I’m still watching Quinn when the song ends. Her stare meets mine, and there’s a twitch in the corner of her mouth. I nod at her. Grin, because I’m happy for her. I was an idiot to make a bet against her, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t back down from a challenge, and that bet was all I needed to grow the testicular fortitude to go get her. I regret nothing except how it ended.
She stays out on the dance floor for another song, swinging her hips and pumping her hands in the air with Emma. Mrs. Lawson is out there too, and for a middle-aged woman, she’s got some decent moves. I wonder for a second how long it’s been since the three of them did anything like this.
I twist in the stool and order a Sam Adams. It’s only my second of the night, and it’ll probably be my last, even though the Lawson’s kindly paid for an open bar. The bartender pops the top. I throw back a couple of swings before I look over my shoulder to Quinn again.
Mrs. Lawson and Emma have been joined by a few other ladies, but Quinn is no longer with them. I scan the dance floor only to come up empty. I swear under my breath. If she left, then that’s that. She’s gone.
At least when she was here, I could stalk her. Imagine she’s still coming to my room with me tonight. She isn’t, of course. She’s through with me, and I can’t blame her.
I turn back to my beer and down the rest. Everyone’s dancing, and I don’t dance, so I toss a few bills in the tip jar, ready to call it a night. I swing around and come face-to-face with Quinn.
“Beer?”
“Uh, yeah. Sam Adams.”
She peers around me to the counter. “Are you finished already?”
I bob my head. “I think so.”
“How about I buy you a drink?”
I smile, recalling the evening before. “Do I look like a guy who needs someone to buy a drink for him?”
She nods toward the dance floor. “From over there, I’d say no. But now that I’m up close, gauging your facial expression, I’d say you for sure need me to buy you a drink. Must be the lighting from over there. The lights here make you seem more intriguing.”
I quirk a brow. “Last I heard you wanted me to stay the hell away from you.”
“Like I said, intriguing.”
“Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about me?”
She smirks, beautiful mismatched eyes shining. “Perhaps. Plus, I owe you, and I don’t do debts.”
“Yes, you do owe me.”
“So, do you want to get out of here?”
“With you?”
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll surprise you. Be the girl you didn’t even see coming.”
I breathe out a laugh and grab my suit coat off of the floor. “You might be my wi
fe.”
“I’m not your wife.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
She links her arm with mine, her lower lip curled in between her teeth. “We’re not married.”
“We’ll see…”
THE END
About the Author
d.Nichole King was born with a book in her hand. During her school years, she’d hide books inside textbooks, read during recess, changing classes, and while walking home from school. She wrote her first book at the age of 11, and the re-worked version of that book is her debut novel, LOVE ALWAYS, KATE.
Her YA urban fantasy series, THE SPIRIT TRILOGY, along with her NA contemporary series, LOVE ALWAYS, was acquired by Limitless Publishing and includes a total of six books. BREAKING THROUGH, an NA science-fiction romance, is her first self-published novel.
d. Nichole King currently resides in a small town in Iowa with her supportive husband, four amazing kids, a dog, a cat, a fish, and a turtle.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/D-Nichole-King/127774904070474
Twitter:
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Website:
http://www.dnicholeking.com/
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/dNicholeKing
Oh, Sh!t
By Amazon Bestselling Author
Lacey Black
Chapter One
Sadie
Life is full of oh, shit moments.
Oh, shit! I locked my keys in my car. Oh, shit! My ex just walked into the produce section at the grocery store with his new girlfriend. Oh, shit! I just ate that entire chocolate cake in one sitting.
Life is full of those moments. Some are big and some are small. Like penises and boobs. The point is: everyone has them. Some might be small enough that no one notices but you, but some are so big, you might as well wear a sign that reads: I’m the world’s biggest dumbass. That’s where I am. This is where my story begins. This is my oh, shit moment…
