by Katee Robert
For a second, she was sure he’d rip her argument to shreds, but he finally just shook his head. “As crazy as that is, it kind of makes sense.”
“It’s not crazy. And having a zombie plan is just good business. The CDC even went so far as to put out ads about how to survive a zombie apocalypse a few years ago.” She made a face. “Though they technically did it so people would actually pay attention to their advice, it still holds.”
“In that case, I won’t let any of the walking dead near you if you’ll share a meal with me in an actual restaurant.” He looked so damn serious, not like he was making fun of her at all.
She bit her lip. “But there are so many…people…in restaurants.”
Quinn leaned in close enough for her to catch a whiff of his cologne. Her toes curled and her body went tight in anticipation. But he just whispered. “If you make it through dinner without bolting, we can come back here and I’ll fuck you on every single surface this hotel room has to offer.”
Her breath stalled in her lungs. “I thought you were already going to do that.”
“Nah, I was already going to fuck you until you couldn’t walk right. This is something else altogether.”
She wasn’t sure she followed the logic, but Quinn had already more than proven he was capable of driving her out of her mind with pleasure. She’d be an idiot not to take him up on what he was offering. Besides, he had a point. They needed some kind of trial run before the demo tomorrow. This would do as well as anything.
He’d be her anchor. She tried and failed to ignore the fluttering in her chest at the thought.
Chapter Nine
Quinn held the door open for Aubry, taking a deep breath of the frigid air conditioning that El Diablo had to offer. The restaurant wasn’t particularly fancy, though it came highly recommended by the bellman at the hotel. From the smells filling the dining area, he had the right of it. Quinn kept his hand on Aubry’s back, as much to gauge her tension level as for the sheer enjoyment of touching her. And, yeah, she was about ready to flee for the hills from the way her eyes were darting around the room.
He caught the hostess’s eye. “Two, please.”
“This way.”
They followed her through the tables filled with people, Aubry’s shoulders hunching more with each step. Luckily their table was against a wall, nearly in the corner. He positioned her with her back to the wall, putting himself between her and the rest of the room. She didn’t notice, because she was too busy staring at her plate. In the last thirty seconds, her pale coloring had taken on a sickly hue and he could hear her breathing coming faster from across the table. “Peaches, look at me.”
She reluctantly lifted her gaze. “Why couldn’t we have ordered in?”
“Look at me,” he repeated. “Focus on me.” He gave her a cocky grin. “I’m the only one in this room who matters anyways.”
Like he’d suspected, that snapped her out of it, at least partially. “Narcissistic much?”
“Nah, I just call it like I see it.” And if she was focusing on him, she wasn’t worrying about all the other bodies in the room. He had to keep her talking, though, because the second she paused, that scarily impressive brain of hers would kick into high gear and then they’d have to start from scratch. “You know, Jules never told me what you do for a living.”
“You’ve been probing Jules for information about me?” Her tone gave nothing away, but some of the panic in her eyes retreated. “That’s stalkerish in the extreme.”
“I prefer the term self-preservation. I needed all the ammunition I could use to defend myself against your witty barbs.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
On purpose. “Back to the topic at hand…”
“I design websites and graphics.” She shrugged. “It’s not exactly my great passion, but it pays the bills and I can do it from Devil’s Falls, so it meets my needs.”
She was a study in contradictions. He’d never met a crazier woman when it came to some of her neuroses, but she was obviously passionate both in bed and when it came to that damn game of hers. Everything about her was extreme—either she hated or she loved, but she never toed the line. Except, apparently, when it came to her job. He smiled at the waitress when she delivered water to their table and took their order, and then turned his attention back to Aubry. “So what would you do if you were going to follow your great passion?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Peaches, you’ve delivered insults harsh enough to strip flesh from bone, but you’ve never lied to me—until now.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Tell me. I promise not to laugh at you.”
“No, you don’t.” She took a sip of her water. “And, anyways, that’s not what I’m afraid of—not that I’m afraid of anything about this conversation, exactly. It’s just that some things aren’t talked about.”
He blinked. “I don’t know where you get some of your ideas.”
“Oh, God, fine.” She hunched down in her seat. “I want to design video games.”
“Cool.”
Aubry fiddled with her silverware. “In theory, sure. But the reality isn’t cool at all. Even if I had the balls to submit my game to a company for consideration, the chances of it getting picked up are less than one percent, and if I went the indie route, there’s a whole host of other hurdles I’d have to get over. That’s not even bringing up what it’s like being a woman in the gaming industry—”
“Aubry.”
She sat back and finally looked at him. “What?”
He mentally revisited everything she’d just said. He wasn’t sure she’d taken a breath the entire time. “You have a game done?”
“It’s not done-done. It’s playable and there are a few levels put together, but that’s it.”
“That’s amazing.” He didn’t have a creative bone in his body, and while he could enjoy a video game here and there, he’d never really put much thought into what it took to actually create one. “You have to send it in.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Did you miss everything I just said?”
“I got it loud and clear. But let me ask you something—what’s the worst they could do?”
“Death threats come to mind.”
Quinn took a drink of his water, considering how to approach this. “But what if they said yes?”
“Back to the less than zero chance that they would.”
“There’s no such thing as less than zero.”
“Sure there is—”
“In algebra. Not in reality.” Hell, the woman was like a dog with a bone. He held up his hands as the waitress deposited chips and salsa onto the table. “I’m not saying you have to do it right now. I’m just saying it’d be a damn shame if you took away even the slightest chance of seeing your game sold in stores because you were scared of a little rejection.”
She picked up her fork and poked at her salad. “You don’t understand.”
“Enlighten me.”
She rolled a grape tomato around her plate. “You and Jules, and even Adam, walk around like you own the entire world. Not in a bad way, you’re just so crazy confident, it would never occur to you to quit something just because someone told you it was impossible. I’m pretty sure Jules would see that as a personal challenge. I’m not like that.”
“You’re a little bit of a basket case, I’ll grant you.” He waited for her half-hearted smile. “But, hell, I didn’t think you cared what anyone thought.”
“I don’t. It’s not that. It’s…” She finally stopped playing with her food and speared the tomato. “I’m already half convinced the game is shit. I don’t need someone else to tell me so and confirm it.”
If that wasn’t the most depressing outlook he could think of, he didn’t know what was. Quinn opened his mouth to argue further, but decided there had to be a better way to come at the subject. He’d think about it later and bring it up when she didn’t
have all her walls firmly in place.
Like when he was inside her.
He grinned at the thought, which had her brows slanting down. She pointed her fork at him. “I am highly suspicious of that look on your face right now.”
“As well you should be.” He dipped a chip into the salsa and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, enjoying the way she squirmed. The best part of this entire conversation was the fact that she hadn’t once noticed the restaurant fill up around them. He had no doubt the second she stopped focusing on him there’d be a potential panic attack on the horizon, and he wasn’t about to let her go through that again if there was any other option.
So he kept talking. “I always wanted to be a cowboy when I was a kid.”
“And look at you, a cowboy. Will wonders never cease?”
He shot her a look. “Careful there. Your claws are out. What do you know about my family?”
“Other than the fact they use one of the most destructive ‘resources’ to fuel their ambition—and your truck—and they had a spill in the Gulf Coast a few years back that killed off a truly terrifying amount of wildlife? Not much.”
That was what most people knew about his family, and he’d never been particularly interested in getting into the nitty gritty of it. “My great-granddaddy struck it rich back in the day and Baldwyns have been in the oil industry ever since—until me.”
“How does that even happen? An oil industry heir turned cowboy? Aren’t you like filthy rich or something?”
“My family is.” He wondered if that would make her think differently of him, like others did. He’d learned to hate the calculating look that sometimes came into their eyes—those people never lasted much longer with him after that moment. He didn’t want anything to do with the oil industry, and he didn’t want to spend his time with someone who was going to push him toward that end.
He didn’t like the thought that Aubry might number among them.
…
Aubry took a bite of her salad and chewed while she contemplated Quinn. He was tense and looked edgy, like he expected her to whip out a machete and start swinging. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to take that look off his face, but she figured the truth was the best way to go. “Guess we can’t choose our family.” Hadn’t she learned that time and again the hard way? Yeah, her family was a far cry from some several generations of oil-rich craziness, but the same rule applied. “So why a cowboy? I know we’re in Texas and all, but did you watch too many John Wayne movies or something?”
Some of the tension around his eyes disappeared. “Maybe.” He took a bite of his burger. “More likely it was spending so much time on the Rodriguez farm when I was growing up. I saw how happy Rodger and Lori were, and I wanted that.”
She couldn’t blame him for that. Jules’s aunt and uncle were something else. She’d never seen anything like the casual way they loved each other, like a pair of well-broken-in jeans. They just fit.
Aubry kind of doubted Quinn was talking about that, though.
His blue eyes saw too much. “That was a pretty skilled change of subject. We were talking about your game.”
“And now we’re not.” She turned the conversation to things less close to her heart. As nice as it was that he hadn’t told her how crazy her dream of designing video games was, she’d rather not deal with him trying to spare her feelings. She played so many games, and hers was like a child with a crayon compared to a Renaissance master. Laughable. And his false confidence in her just made her feel weird. That wasn’t what they were to each other. She had a cheerleader in Jules—or she would if she ever admitted to her best friend what she wanted—so she didn’t need one in Quinn. Especially when his quiet confidence almost made her think maybe she had a shot.
By the time the waitress brought the check, Aubry was weaving in her seat a little. She yawned and tried to cover it up. He laughed, dropped a stack of cash on the table, and stood. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”
It was only then she realized she’d sat in a full room of people for who-knew-how-long and hadn’t freaked out. Aubry started to look around, but he was there, a wall between her and the rest of the room. “Come on, peaches.” He held out his hand.
Surely having so many people in this room is against some kind of fire code?
The ever-present band around her chest started to close and she made a grab for Quinn’s hand. The touch of his skin against hers steadied her, just a little. He nodded once and led the way out of the building. She could breathe a little easier on the street. “I’m sorry I’m such a basket case.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
She knew that. Really, she did. But this wasn’t like things were with Jules. Her best friend took Aubry as she was, massive list of flaws and all. It would be madness to expect Quinn to do the same.
You’re not keeping him.
Right. Naturally. She hadn’t forgotten that. It was just hard to remember in this moment, with his hand in hers and their walking back to a hotel after what could be termed a date.
She gritted her teeth as a woman on a cell phone bumped into her. Not a date. The only reason he’s here at all is because he needs a fire-breathing dragon for his sister’s wedding and you fit the bill.
It didn’t matter that they’d had some seriously hot sex. It certainly didn’t matter that she kind of admired the fact he’d left the riches his family offered behind him and run off to be a cowboy. And it sure as hell couldn’t affect the way she saw him, that he was seriously good at anchoring her when her neuroses got out of control.
It’s the sex making me all crazy. I haven’t had sex in… She silently did the math. Six years. So I guess I’m due a little insanity of the male variety. At least she could be assured that Quinn wasn’t going to go batshit crazy on her like every single one of the guys online she’d contemplated meeting had.
And those were the ones that had passed her background checks.
But knowing that wasn’t going to save Aubry from her hormones betraying her. She breathed a sigh of relief when they walked into the hotel and made a beeline for the elevator. The only problem was that being out of the crowds only brought home the other issues she was experiencing.
Like the fact she was in danger of having…feelings…for Quinn.
Non-hate feelings.
She had to call the whole thing off. Or at least the sex part. They’d proven she could fake—yeah, fake—liking him. That was good enough. It had to be good enough.
Chapter Ten
Quinn could tell there was a difference in Aubry as soon as he closed the hotel room between them and the rest of the world, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. She wrapped her arms around herself and wandered farther into the room, stopping in front of the big windows opposite the door. “We need to talk.”
“Well, hell, no good ever came of a conversation that started like that.”
She ignored his attempt to make light of the whole thing. “I can’t do…this.”
No. He clamped hard against the word, stopping the word before he voiced it. Damn it. He should have seen this shit coming. Things between them had never been anything but complicated, and there was no reason sex would fix that. He should have known it would only make it worse.
He had known. He just hadn’t cared. He’d wanted Aubry, and she’d wanted him, and so he’d thrown caution to the wind and crossed that line. The problem was Quinn wasn’t ready to take a step back into familiar territory. Not yet.
“What’s changed?” He moved closer, but kept an arm’s length between them. Aubry wouldn’t respond well to him crowding her. She might even go for his throat. While there was a time and place to provoke that type of response, it wasn’t now.
“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s been a while for me.”
He’d noticed. He would have had to be exceptionally dense not to have noticed.
She still wouldn’t turn to look at him. “Besides, I thought you ha
d a rule that you didn’t sleep with women you don’t like. We’ve broken it enough times already.”
“I don’t think it’s up to you to decide if we’ve broken my rules.” He didn’t know why he was fighting this so hard. She was right. He might not despise her like he had in the past, but that was still a long way off from deciding they were going to be best friends or hang out for any length of time after his sister’s wedding. They wouldn’t. He ignored the pit in his stomach that opened at that thought. “You like fucking me.”
“It’s acceptable.”
He laughed. “I lost count of how many times I’ve made you come in the last twenty-four hours. Acceptable doesn’t begin to cover it.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “On top of all that, I think I’ve more than proven I can act like I like you the way a girlfriend would. So we don’t have to go there again.”
He might—might—have let it go if she’d said she wasn’t interested. But that wasn’t what she was saying. Hell, Aubry was throwing every excuse at him to prove she didn’t want him, each one flimsier than the last. This final excuse was the one he couldn’t let stand, though. Quinn took a step toward her, the light of the room creating a mirror in the window in front of her. He searched her face, not liking how unsure she looked. She’d been fine during dinner—skittish, sure, but fine.
Which meant somewhere along the way, she’d started overthinking things.
“Acting.” He ran his hands up her arms to settle on her shoulders, massaging the tense muscles at the bottom of her neck lightly with his thumbs. “Acting is just another way to say lying.”
“That’s your problem if you choose to see it that way.” Her head fell forward, giving him better access to her neck.
Got you. He kept massaging her shoulders. “I don’t think it’s a problem at all. I’ll tell you a secret.” He moved closer until he was almost pressed against her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I kind of like you, too.”
