All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1)

by Jenna Sutton

  He thrust his hands through his hair, making the dark strands stick up in several places. He looked away from her.

  “It would be suicide if it failed.”

  She studied Quinn. His shoulders were stiff, and his hands were clenched into fists. It was obviously a bad time to tell him about Teagan’s project, and she turned a deaf ear to her conscience.

  She’d tell him later. She would.

  Chapter 30

  A rustic sign made of wood shingles marked the entrance to the resort’s driveway, and Quinn turned the rental car to follow the winding path. He and Amelia had landed in Georgia about an hour ago and had been on the road ever since. The long flight, coupled with the time change, meant it was early evening already.

  He eyed Amelia. She had been quiet for most of the ride, and he couldn’t tell if she was just tired or if something was wrong. Their conversation during the latter part of the flight had not been lighthearted, and although he had apologized for acting like an ass, he didn’t know if that had smoothed things over.

  Maybe she had picked up on his tension. He was worried she might not go along with his plans for the weekend. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease his tight muscles. They were getting stiffer by the second.

  He had asked his assistant to book two rooms at Reynolds Plantation, a luxury resort on Lake Oconee. He normally favored a hotel that catered to business travelers, but the resort was about the same distance to the manufacturing facility, so it was just as convenient. The big difference was its lakeside locale.

  He’d never stayed at the resort, but he had heard a lot of good things about it, most notably that it was perfect for couples. He really wanted to have a romantic getaway with Amelia before he had to say good-bye to her in Nashville.

  He sighed loudly at the thought, and she looked at him sharply. He tried to smile, but the idea of not being able to see her every day and sleep with her at night made him feel like shit.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  Hell, no. Everything was not okay. He grunted and let her draw her own conclusion from the sound.

  Large magnolia trees shaded the path, along with a few weeping willows. Their long, thin leaves gracefully swept the ground.

  As they rounded the turn, the resort came into view. It was an impressive sight, even for Quinn, who had stayed in some of the most luxurious hotels in the world. The architect obviously had drawn inspiration from the grand plantation houses of the Old South, although the resort was designed on a much larger scale.

  Amelia gasped in admiration. “Wow.” She slanted a look toward him. “Is this where you normally stay?”

  “No,” he replied but didn’t elaborate because that would require him to share his plans.

  They rode in silence until they reached the resort’s entrance, identifiable by its white porte cochere. He brought the car to a stop, and the valet attendants rushed to help them.

  In a matter of moments, the bellman had taken care of their luggage, and they made their way inside the resort. He suggested that Amelia take a seat on one of the plump sofas scattered around while he took care of the rooms.

  She nodded her acceptance, and he headed to the check-in desk, where an older woman waited to help. He felt a little guilty about his sneakiness, but hopefully it would be worth it.

  He made sure to keep his voice down as he confirmed his reservation extended until Sunday and that the hotel staff had taken care of his special request. He also checked into the room his assistant had booked for Amelia.

  Quinn wanted her to stay with him, but he didn’t want her to feel any pressure. If she preferred to stay in her own room, he’d just have to accept it. More important, he didn’t want anyone in the company to wonder why only one room showed up on the expense report.

  With both hotel keys in hand, he beckoned Amelia to the bank of elevators. He pressed the button for the fourth floor, where her room was located. His suite was on the top floor of the six-story resort.

  They didn’t talk during the short ride, and once they had exited the elevator, they headed to her room. Using the electronic key card, he unlocked the door and held it open so she could enter first.

  He followed, closing the door behind him, and she turned in a slow circle to take in the room. It was beyond luxurious. If this was a regular room, he couldn’t wait to see what his suite looked like. He hoped he’d be able to enjoy it with her.

  “This is your room,” he said, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his Rileys.

  She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to stay here.”

  “What?” She cocked her head to the side. “You want to stay somewhere else?”

  He shook his head, frustrated that he wasn’t explaining things well. “Sorry. What I mean is that I want you to stay with me, in my suite on the sixth floor.” He paused. “I booked it through Sunday. I hoped we could spend the weekend together.”

  She gazed at him, her brown eyes so dark he almost forgot what he wanted to accomplish. When she didn’t answer immediately, he began formulating his argument to get her to say yes.

  Moving closer to him, Amelia placed her hands on his chest, her palms heating him through his sweater. He pulled his hands from his pockets and wrapped his arms around her curvy body.

  “You’ve been plotting,” she said, her voice softly accusing.

  He stared down into her face. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing her brown-sugar freckles.

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  She glanced at him quizzically. “Why did you get two rooms if you wanted me to stay with you?”

  “Because you want to keep our relationship private, and sharing a room would make it pretty obvious we’re more than business partners.” He squeezed her against him. “Come on, Juice. Say yes.”

  She smiled, and that was all the “yes” he needed for relief to flood through him. Three more days with her.

  And three more nights.

  “What else have you been plotting?” she asked with a teasing lilt to her voice.

  He rubbed his face against her hair, loving the way the springy curls felt. Most of his plans involved her naked with him deep inside her warm, welcoming body, but he didn’t share that information with her.

  “I’ve made reservations for dinner tonight. The restaurant here in the resort is supposed to be really good.”

  She nodded. “What time?”

  He looked at his watch. “In a little over an hour.”

  She gave him a naughty look that sent blood rushing to his cock. Reaching between their bodies, she deftly unbuckled his belt.

  “I’m not sure that’s enough time for what I have in mind,” she said huskily before unbuttoning his jeans. She slid her hand into his boxer briefs, palming his cock.

  His heart surged into a pounding rhythm. She rarely instigated sex. He was the one who usually attacked her like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Her obvious interest was a huge turn-on, and a tingle ran up and down his spine before settling in his groin.

  She gave his cock a little squeeze, brushing her thumb over the tip and forcing a moan from his throat. Gripping her upper arms, he tried to gain a little control over himself and her busy hands.

  She stretched up to kiss his chin, the closest she could get to his lips without him bending down. “Quinn, would you be very disappointed if we missed our reservation?”

  • • •

  Amelia could hear the deep rumble of Quinn’s voice through the bathroom door. He’d been on the phone with Deda for nearly an hour discussing some kind of problem with a new denim supplier. They’d missed their dinner reservation, but not for the reason she had anticipated.

  Stretching her leg toward the faucet, she used her toes to turn on the one marked with a big H. Her bathwater had cooled, a
nd she needed to warm it up since she wasn’t ready to get out yet.

  She and Quinn had been in the elevator headed to his suite when he had received the call from Deda. He rarely ignored the other man’s calls, so it hadn’t been a surprise when he’d given her an apologetic glance before answering the phone.

  She had been disappointed, and if the erection pressing against his fly was any indication, he’d felt the same way. But she understood he had a lot of responsibility resting on his broad shoulders, and she also realized she wasn’t the most important thing in his life.

  They should have stayed in her room and indulged in a quickie, but he had been insistent they go to his suite before they got naked. When he had unlocked the door, she’d understood why.

  He obviously had asked the resort to set the scene for seduction. A huge bouquet of white orchids occupied a place of honor on the entryway table, votive candles were scattered around the room, and a bottle of sparkling apple juice had been chilling instead of the typical champagne. He always made sure she had something nonalcoholic to drink.

  When she had shot him a surprised glance, he had smiled and cupped his hand over the phone. “So much for my grand plans,” he’d said wryly. “I’m sorry. This is going to take a while. I’ll make it up to you later.”

  Then he’d given her a hard kiss and patted her butt. “Why don’t you check out the spa tub,” he had suggested before turning his attention back to Deda and the denim drama.

  She had taken his advice, and now she had firsthand knowledge that the tub was quite comfortable. In fact, the whole suite was downright sumptuous. She was thrilled he had booked it for the weekend. She looked forward to spending time with him, all alone.

  They had only a handful of days together before he returned to San Francisco while she stayed in Nashville. She tried not to think about the thousands of miles that would separate them.

  This romantic weekend would likely be the last time she would experience his lovemaking. She had little doubt what would happen once she finished with Teagan’s project and Quinn found out about her involvement.

  In an effort to distract herself, she grabbed the bubble bath provided by the resort and poured it into the running water. Almost immediately, citrus-scented steam enveloped the room, and she swore her hair kinked into tighter curls.

  She probably looked like little orphan Annie. It didn’t matter, though, because Quinn never seemed to notice the things she disliked most about her appearance: her big booty, her crazy hair, and the wide gap between her front teeth.

  He obviously had questionable taste because he seemed to like all her imperfections.

  A draft of cool air washed over her as the bathroom door opened. Quinn poked his head around the door and met her eyes.

  He smiled slowly, and she looked down to see how much of her body was exposed to his gaze. Unsurprisingly, the bubbles weren’t doing a very good job covering all the important parts.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  She nodded. “I don’t usually take baths. This is a nice treat.”

  He entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. “I was thinking we could order room service and just hang out here in the suite.”

  She smiled. “I’m all for eating dinner in my pajamas.”

  “Me, too,” he replied, laughing softly. “It’s been a long day.”

  Grabbing the stool from under the vanity, he sat down on it gingerly as if he were afraid it would collapse under his weight. It was way too small for him, and he should have looked ridiculous, perched on it like an elephant balanced on a beach ball. Instead, he somehow looked more masculine.

  He leaned forward to settle his elbows on his thighs, dangling his hands between his knees. The position drew her attention to his broad shoulders and muscular arms, which were outlined by his red sweater. The bright color made his hair look darker and his eyes more intense.

  Quinn was so gorgeous. And he was all hers.

  Until the weekend is over.

  She didn’t know what would happen once he dropped her off in Nashville. He hadn’t mentioned anything about continuing their relationship long-distance, and she hadn’t either.

  Redirecting her mind from that depressing thought, she asked, “Everything all settled with Deda?”

  “Hopefully.”

  With a loud sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. He looked tired, and she had an overwhelming urge to comfort him. To do something that would remove the burdens weighing so heavily on him.

  “Is there anything I can do?” She laughed a little self-consciously at the idea she could accomplish something he couldn’t. “I mean, I’m sure there’s not, but I’m here if you need me.”

  Quinn straightened from his half slouch and ran his gaze over her face before meeting her eyes. He pulled in a deep breath.

  “I do need you,” he replied finally. “I’m . . .”

  They stared at each other, the air in the bathroom suddenly charged with emotion. She froze, anxious to hear what he had to say. Clearing his throat, he dropped his eyes. He stood and rushed to the door.

  “I’ll bring the room service menu in here so you don’t have to get out until the food comes,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. “I’m sure they can make anything, though. Do you have an idea of what you might want?”

  She swallowed, trying to ease the tightness in her throat. She knew exactly what she wanted.

  But she was never going to get it.

  Chapter 31

  Quinn leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and gazed at the early morning sky. From his position on the suite’s balcony, he could see the stars twinkling over the dark shape of Lake Oconee and smell the distinct odor of marshy water. It was four in the morning, and the landscape was still and quiet except for the intermittent chirp of insects.

  He should be dead to the world since it was the middle of the night in San Francisco, but he hadn’t been able to sleep, even with Amelia’s warm body snuggled up against him. She, meanwhile, had passed out within minutes of finishing dinner, exhausted by the flight and her anxiety about showing her sketches to him.

  In fact, he’d never seen a sober person fall asleep so quickly. One minute, she had been sitting on the sofa talking to him, and the next minute, she’d been asleep with her head in his lap.

  Fortunately, she had already been in her pajamas, a set printed with eggs and bacon, of all the random things that could be on sleepwear. He’d helped her to bed, and when he had joined her several hours later, she’d wrapped herself around him like a climbing vine and let out a series of tiny snores.

  He’d had a hard time falling asleep, and once he had drifted off, he hadn’t stayed in the land of nod very long. There were just too many things going on in his head for him to rest.

  He would officially take over a multibillion-dollar company in roughly six weeks. The transition probably wouldn’t go smoothly, despite the fact that he’d been running it in his dad’s absence for the past three years. He expected a certain level of skepticism from the board, along with some pushback from a number of employees, especially those who had been there for a while.

  The denim shortage had become a bigger problem, the women’s division was a mess, and retailers weren’t as eager to sell Rileys as they used to be. On top of that, his dad had not fully recovered from his cancer, Teagan was behaving bizarrely, even for her, and Cal’s problems with Saika were still unresolved, making his usually easygoing brother a short-tempered asshole.

  But those things didn’t fill his thoughts. Amelia did. There was almost no room in his head for anything but her. Even when he was working, she was there on the periphery.

  He had never resented Riley O’Brien & Co. and the time he had to devote to it. But when he’d received the call from Deda last night, he had felt like throwing his phone to the floor and grinding his boot heel into it.

&nb
sp; He hadn’t wanted to talk about how much they could afford to pay a new denim supplier. He’d wanted to be with Amelia. The whole time he had been on the phone, part of his mind had fantasized about her in the tub.

  He had imagined how pink and glistening her skin would be from the warm bubble bath, and he’d wondered if she had pinned her hair up or left it down to float in the water. He’d thought about joining her, pulling her onto his lap, and sucking on her pink nipples while she rode him.

  He’d had to undo his fly because the buttons had pressed painfully into his hard-on, making it even more difficult to focus on the conversation. His lack of attention hadn’t gone unnoticed by Deda, and he wondered if everyone else could sense his distraction.

  Frowning, he scrubbed his hands over his face. He doubted he would regain his focus once he and Amelia were in different states. It was more likely he’d be angry at the world if he couldn’t see and touch her.

  Now that Quinn was trying to balance a relationship and work, he had far more respect for his dad. His father clearly could juggle better than a circus performer because somehow he’d managed to keep all the balls—Riley O’Brien & Co., a demanding, albeit loving, wife, and three rascally kids—in the air.

  James had been a great father. He’d never missed a football game or a dance recital, and he had been home every night for dinner with the exception of the rare business event or out-of-town travel. He’d helped with homework, coached Little League, and participated in a million other things Quinn had forgotten.

  He wondered what kind of dad he would be. He had always expected to have kids. Preserving the Riley O’Brien legacy for his children and grandchildren was the primary reason he worked so hard to make sure the company was successful. But he’d never really thought about how hard it would be to manage a family and the company. And he purposely had avoided thinking about the unknown woman who would bear his children.

  He heard a noise, and seconds later, Amelia wrapped her arms around him from behind. She gave him a squeeze before coming to stand next to him, and he hugged her to his side.