by Jenna Sutton
But then he’d remembered that she had lied to him—that she had used him. Her deceit and the suspicious timing of her profession of love had tainted those three little words, casting doubt on her true feelings.
Although his joy had dimmed, even then a splinter of hope had remained inside him, trying to work its way to the surface. But as she had knelt on her bed in that oversized T-shirt with her gorgeous hair tangled around her face, her voice had echoed in his head: I don’t lie to people I love, either.
He knew her—her difficult past, her dreams, her fears. He knew her, and he knew she wouldn’t violate such an important don’t.
If she loved me, she wouldn’t have lied.
“I’m sorry, Quinn,” Cal said, rubbing the top of his head. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Amelia is the perfect person to head up the women’s division. Her designs for the accessories were great, and I’m sure the designs she did for Teagan are just as great.”
“You still want to work with her?” Cal asked incredulously.
“No. I want to make a big bonfire out of her designs and then I want to shutter the women’s division.” He sighed. “But I can’t do that to Riley O’Brien & Co. The company needs Amelia and her designs.”
His heart chimed in, You need her, but he did his best to ignore it.
“It would be a fucking disaster to work with Amelia after this,” Cal warned. “You would want her every time you saw her, but you would never have her. It would be torture.”
Quinn studied Cal. His brother was staring at the wall, his eyes slightly unfocused.
“Are you talking about Saika?”
Cal met Quinn’s gaze. “No.”
“Another woman?”
“I wasn’t talking about me,” Cal replied, but Quinn could tell he was lying. “I was talking about you and Amelia. We need to find someone else to lead the women’s division.”
Quinn shook his head. “Before we do that, I think we need to ask Shelby to expand on her research. We know how women view Rileys, where and how they spend their money. But we didn’t ask them what they want. We need to know what women want so we can give it to them.”
“I think that’s one of the smartest things I’ve ever heard you say,” Cal said sincerely.
“This is going to be a big project. It’s a huge risk.”
Cal pushed on the punching bag until it rammed Quinn in the gut. “There’s a reason why you’re the one who’s going to run this company when Dad steps down. If anyone can make the women’s division a success, it’s you.”
Chapter 41
Amelia pressed the tips of her shoes against the wood slats of the porch and pushed off, making the hanging swing glide back and forth. A cold wind swept across her, and she pulled her thick sweater closer to her body.
She heard the farmhouse’s front door open, followed by the squeak of the screen door. Turning her head, she saw Ava Grace standing a few feet away with two steaming mugs in her hands.
“I made hot chocolate.”
“With marshmallows?”
“Of course,” Ava Grace replied as she handed over one of the ceramic mugs. She sat down in the porch swing next to her and snuggled up.
“It’s cold out here. Do you want me to get a quilt from inside?”
Amelia shook her head. It didn’t matter how many quilts she piled on or how many layers she wore; she was always cold. She’d been frozen inside since Quinn had gone back to San Francisco more than two weeks ago.
Ava Grace sighed. “I can’t believe Thanksgiving is next week.” She blew on the hot chocolate before taking a small sip. “A few people have invited us to dinner. Do you want it to be just us or do you want to take someone up on their invitation?”
Amelia shrugged. “I don’t care. Whatever you want to do is fine.”
She leaned her head against Ava Grace’s shoulder, comforted by her best friend’s presence. Together, they moved the porch swing back and forth while sipping their creamy drinks.
“Why aren’t we spending Thanksgiving with the O’Briens?” Ava Grace asked quietly.
Amelia stiffened. It was the first question Ava Grace had asked about Quinn since she had come home from a long night of celebration to find Amelia curled up on the sofa in her Cowboys T-shirt, red-eyed and alone. Somehow Ava Grace had known Amelia hadn’t been ready to talk about what had happened before now.
“Because we weren’t invited. I’m pretty sure they limit holiday guests to family and friends.”
In fact, she hadn’t talked to Quinn or anyone else in the O’Brien family since he’d walked out of her bedroom. She had called Teagan to let her know that he was aware of their project, but she hadn’t been able to reach her. She’d left a voicemail, and she’d also texted but received no answer.
“Hmm. I thought you and Quinn were close friends. Bosom buddies,” Ava Grace said archly.
“You know we were more than friends. We were sleeping together.”
“I can see why you couldn’t resist.”
She laughed sadly. “Oh, Ava Grace, you have no idea how hard I tried to resist him.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
Several minutes passed, the silence broken only by the sharp creak of the porch swing and the occasional sounds of nature. Amelia finished her hot chocolate and leaned down to place the mug on the ground.
“I tried to keep things professional. I knew getting involved with him—having sex with him—would be a huge mistake.” She sought out Ava Grace’s gaze. “You told me to stay away from him, and I tried to do that. I really did.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “But I wanted him so much. I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, so much. And finally I just gave in because I couldn’t stand not being with him.”
“Well, he definitely deserves his own category of tall, dark, and handsome.”
She smiled. “I’ve never known anyone like him. He’s so bossy. And a know-it-all. And, oh, my God, he’s so spoiled. And messy. You should see his bedroom. It’s horrible. He doesn’t take care of his things because he has plenty of money to replace them. . . .”
Ava Grace leaned closer to her. “Have you figured out yet that you’re in love with Quinn? Because if you haven’t, I’ll have to slap you silly.”
“What makes you so sure I’m in love with him?”
Ava Grace snorted. “I probably knew before you did. By the way, it was the produce that sealed the deal. Who wouldn’t fall in love with a man who buys three bags of organic fruit and vegetables? If he’d just bought one bag, you probably would have only had a crush on him.”
She laughed. “Maybe you’re right.”
“A better question is how did it happen? You’re so closed off . . . with everyone except for me, that is.”
She had wondered the same thing. “I know! I’m emotionally unavailable, according to all the self-help books I’ve read. I don’t know what happened.”
But she should have suspected her feelings for Quinn were more than lust. Her unreasonable anger toward the employees who didn’t support him and her desire to comfort him at the launch party should have been her first clues.
Amelia groaned. “I never thought I would feel this way. I daydream about marrying Quinn, what our children would look like, organizing his bedroom . . .”
Ava Grace laughed. “You seem a little preoccupied by how disorganized his bedroom is. Weren’t you too busy doing other things to notice the mess?”
Amelia smiled, but the reminder of making love with Quinn made her chest tight . . . especially the last time. She had tried to show him how much she loved him without saying the words. Unfortunately, her efforts had backfired.
She wished she could go back in time and warn herself that getting involved with Quinn would change her . . . that it would make her vulnerable to the kind of pain she had felt as a child
and never wanted to feel again: the pain of rejection, the pain of loving someone who didn’t love you in return, and the pain of being alone.
Ava Grace sensed the shift in her mood. “What went wrong?” she asked, settling her arm around Amelia’s shoulders.
“I admitted that I was working behind his back, and it didn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that I had used him to get ahead.”
Ava Grace groaned. “Oh, Millie.”
“I had decided to tell Quinn about the redesign. I thought that was better than him finding out on his own. We were in my room, and the jeans I’d made were on my chair, and he sat on them. It was . . .” She shook her head in disbelief. “It was like watching a bad movie in slow motion.”
She told Ava Grace what had happened, and the other woman listened attentively. She gasped when she heard how Quinn had responded to Amelia’s “I love you.”
“He didn’t believe you?” Ava Grace asked incredulously.
“Why are you so surprised? You warned me this would happen. I think your exact words were that I couldn’t expect anything but heartbreak since I was lying to him about something so important.” She nudged her shoulder against her best friend. “This is where you say, ‘I told you so.’”
“Okay. I told you so.”
Despite her despair, Amelia laughed. “There’s the Ava Grace I know and love.”
Her laughter died as she remembered the look on Quinn’s face when he’d reminded her that she didn’t lie to people she loved. His face had been blank, wiped free of all the warmth and affection she’d soaked in during their time together.
Before Quinn, she had never loved anyone but Ava Grace, and being honest with her best friend wasn’t difficult, although it occasionally resulted in shouting. With the exception of the redesign, she hadn’t found it a challenge to be honest with him, either. The biggest problem was being honest with herself.
“Now I’m going to tell you something else, and you need to pay attention this time,” Ava Grace said seriously. “You did something bad, and Quinn has a right to be angry. I would say he’s a fool for walking away from you, but you don’t give love easily, so he must not be a fool. In fact, I have no doubt he’s an amazing man.”
Tears welled in Amelia’s eyes. “He is amazing,” she agreed thickly. “And I did something to him that he never would have done to anyone, let alone someone he loves. He’s a better person than I am.”
She gulped back her tears. “Quinn is everything I’m not, and in all the best ways. He’s so open with his emotions, and he doesn’t expect the worst of people.” She sniffled loudly. “He deserves better than me.”
“Amelia. Listen to me. Every day I thank God you’re my best friend. Your love is a gift. It is a privilege to be loved by you. You need to make sure Quinn understands exactly what he’s giving up.”
She brushed away the tears dribbling down her cheeks and off her chin. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to face him again,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “I know it sounds dramatic, but when he left, it felt like he shredded my heart and my soul. I can’t take any more rejection.”
A sob escaped her, and Ava Grace pulled her closer. “Your fear of rejection is a by-product of our shitty childhood, you know. You’re messed up because of your mom. Hell, I’m messed up, too. But you need to believe you are worthy of love. You deserve to be happy, and I think Quinn made you happy. Am I right?”
Amelia nodded. “When I was with him, I didn’t think about all the things I’d never had because he filled those empty places inside me. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like everyone else got what they wanted while I got nothing.”
Amelia could tell she had surprised her best friend.
“I think I’m jealous. That’s way better than happiness.” Ava Grace lightly patted her shoulder. “How do you think Quinn feels about you?”
“I don’t know. There were times when I thought he might feel the same way. But he’s really affectionate so maybe I confused that as something more.”
“For what it’s worth, I think Quinn is in love with you, too. I noticed he’s very protective of you, and I don’t think a guy acts like that unless his emotions are engaged. And he can’t take his eyes off you. He looks at you like you’re cocaine, and he’s a drug addict.”
She frowned. “That’s a horrible analogy. Couldn’t you have come up with something more pleasant?”
Ava Grace waved her hand. “Whatever. The point I’m trying to make is that I think his heart is involved. But he was blindsided by all the shit you dumped on him. Now that he’s had time to calm down, he’s probably ready to listen to you.”
“I’m not convinced he feels the same way. Quinn’s a talker, and I don’t think he could have kept quiet about his feelings if he loved me.”
“A talker? What do you mean?”
She wanted to slap herself for disclosing something so personal. A fiery blush raced across her cheeks.
“Oh, it’s not important,” she said, striving for nonchalance.
Ava Grace snickered. “I think I get it.” She flipped her long hair over her shoulder. “I’ve never been with a talker. What’s it like?”
Amelia shifted on the swing. “I’m not going to discuss it.”
“Oh, come on, Millie. Have mercy on me. I’m not getting any right now.”
She laughed. Even before Ava Grace had become a celebrity, men had drooled over her. She certainly never lacked for male attention.
“You could if you wanted to.”
Ava Grace’s husky laugh joined Amelia’s lighter one. “If you’re not going to share Quinn’s best lines, at least tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”
She considered Ava Grace’s question. “I can’t think of anything that would make me feel better.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. There must be something,” Ava Grace teased gently. “What do you want more than anything?”
Her heart thudded heavily. Just a few months ago she would have said she wanted success more than anything, and that meant the respect of the design industry and her own chain of boutiques. Now she wanted something else.
“I want Quinn.”
“I know.” Ava Grace dropped her arm and squeezed Amelia’s cold fingers. “But you’re going to have to convince him.”
“And how do I do that?”
“I have no idea. I don’t know it all, I’m just a know-it-all.”
Amelia laughed soggily. “Oh, Ava Grace, I love you.”
“I love you, too, Millie.”
Amelia turned her head to look into her best friend’s eyes, and an entire conversation took place in that one glance.
“I think you’re really going to love living in San Francisco,” Ava Grace said as she rocked the swing sideways. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a big fan of fog, clam chowder, and trolleys. Plus, there’s so much to see. The Golden Gate Bridge. Alcatraz. Fisherman’s Wharf. Chinatown. I can’t imagine that you’d ever run out of things to do. But if you get bored, you can always organize Quinn’s bedroom.”
Chapter 42
As Quinn drove up to his Victorian, he noticed Cal’s old Caddy parked on the street in front of his house. He and his brother were living proof of the old adage that misery loves company.
Shortly after Quinn had returned from Nashville, Cal and Saika had broken up. His brother had refused to discuss it, but he had the feeling Cal was responsible for the split rather than Saika. Given their previous conversation, he was baffled by his brother’s actions.
For the past three weeks, they’d spent almost every evening together, eating takeout, drinking beer, and watching sports. No doubt about it, the two of them were serious sad sacks, another of his dad’s favorite sayings.
He parked his Audi in the garage. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he sat in
the SUV for several minutes, recalling the day of the football game when he had pulled Amelia onto his lap and fucked her senseless.
He sighed, pressing his fingers against his forehead where a headache had settled. He couldn’t go on like this. He was useless at work, unable to focus because he thought about Amelia constantly.
He rubbed a hand across his chest. He knew it had to be his imagination, but an ache had settled near his heart, and any thought of Amelia made it worse. It was probably just a serious case of acid reflux from all the beer and pizza he’d consumed with Cal.
He’d had plenty of time to think about what Amelia and his sister had done. He understood why Amelia had agreed to the project, but he still didn’t understand how Teagan could have gone behind his back. In his mind, there were just some things you didn’t do to people you loved, and lying was one of them.
With every day that had passed, his anger toward his sister had burned brighter and more intense until suddenly it had faded like a supernova. Now there was a black hole where the anger had been, a hole filled with grief and disappointment.
Quinn shook off his melancholy, grabbed his bag from the passenger seat, and exited the SUV. He let himself into his house and found Teagan and Cal sitting in the living room.
Dumping his bag on an empty chair, he faced them. Amelia had obviously given Teagan a heads-up that he knew about their secret project because his sister was perched tensely on the edge of the sofa. Her eyes were dark behind her glasses, her face stamped with guilt.
Cal, meanwhile, slouched in the club chair, looking as if he might fall asleep at any moment. His long legs were propped on the ottoman, his long feet covered in a pair of burnt-orange socks patterned with turkeys. They must have been a gift from Saika’s daughter.
Quinn turned his attention back to Teagan. “I wondered when you’d show up.”
Her shoulders stiffened under her cream-colored sweater. “I said I would be back before Thanksgiving, and I am. Thanksgiving is the day after tomorrow.”
“And how was your trip?” he asked casually.
