He felt a smile take over his face. “I’d like that. I’ll see you around six-thirty then?”
“Sounds like a date.” There was a muffled noise on Laurel’s end. “Gotta go. Work is calling my name. I’ll talk to you later Quin. Bye.”
Laurel hung up before he could say goodbye. She seemed to do that a lot. Once it was time to work, she was gone. Pulling up his messages, he sent her a quick text.
Don’t work too hard. Can’t wait to see you Saturday night. ~ Quin
He walked back into the hanger and called his brothers in. No time like the present to let them know, Guys Night was officially over.
Chapter Seven
Laurel rushed around the house making sure everything was in its place and cleaned within an inch of its life. The place needed to be perfect. Granted, he had been in the house before, but she liked to pretend that embarrassing incident never happened. Getting drunk, not knowing for sure how you got home, and then waking up to your dream guy and wondering if you were going to puke was not good.
Laurel fluffed a decorative chair pillow for the third time as she glanced at the huge clock hanging over her mantel, seven o’clock.
“He isn’t going to show up.”
No, that can’t be right. They had finally arranged their schedules. Okay, so it sucked that they had to pencil time in but, if things worked out, they would find a way to be together more.
Just then the doorbell rang, causing Laurel to jump in surprise and bang into the coffee table. “Shit!”
Rubbing the spot on her shin she rushed to the door, taking a second to stop in front of the mirror on the wall and smooth her hair. With a deep breath to calm her nerves, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door.
That deep breath she had just taken – well, it came out in a giant rush. Quin stood in front of her, sexy grin curving one side of his lips and amusement twinkling in his dark brown eyes. His black hair ruffled in the breeze, a wayward lock brushing his forehead.
Laurel’s gaze traveled lower. He wore a dark blue t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and hung loose at his waist right above a pair of black cargo shorts.
“Is there a problem? I thought I heard you curse.”
“Huh, what?” She glanced up to look into his eyes. A blush quickly warming her cheeks at being caught staring. She shouldn’t feel this shy around him. “Oh no. It was nothing. Just surprised when I heard the bell ring. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming and I got to straightening things again then smashed into the coffee table.”
Great…now she was babbling.
Quin’s warm chuckle danced across her senses. It was deep and rich, sending shivers down her spine. Completely lost in the sound, her habit of nibbling on her bottom lip kicked in. Damn the man was even more enticing than the teenage boy she had known.
A low groan rumbling from his chest grabbed her attention. Before she could process what it was about, Quin hooked her around the waist and pulled her in tight, slamming his lips down on hers in a heated kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam, dragging a moan from within her. Her mouth opened giving him access, delighted when his grip tightened and she felt his cock harden against her.
Abruptly he pulled away but didn’t release her. “It might be a good idea to invite me in. The things I want to do to you shouldn’t be done in front of your neighbors. Unless, of course, you don’t mind a bit of PDS.”
“PDS? I’ve heard of PDA, public display of affection.”
“Publicly displayed sex.”
“Oh! Um. Why don’t you come in then?”
With his arms wrapped tightly around her, he walked her backwards through the door, slamming it behind him. Leaning back he fused their bodies together, crushing her aching breasts against his chest. Zings of pleasure erupted through her body as he seduced her with his mouth again. One of his large hands skimmed down her waist, grabbing her ass he pulled her harder against him. His free hand plowed through her hair before cupping the back of her head, holding her in place as he assaulted her mouth, sending her hormones into overdrive. The insistent throbbing of her clit told her she needed more.
She didn’t know if she should demand he take her to bed and fuck her or get on with the reason she invited him over; to work on finishing up her latest assignment. Laurel was sure he wouldn’t have a problem with the first, but she really needed to focus on work. Coming up for air, she pushed slightly against his shoulders. “We need to stop,” she panted.
“Not sure I can.” He set his lips against her neck and nibbled. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands back on you since I left last Sunday. I’m finding you rather irresistible.”
Her brain turned to mush, thoughts about work almost escaping her. “Mmm…. I like that but we have work to do. I need to get this assignment done and I have a feeling if we don’t stop now, we’ll never get back to the reason you came over.”
“I came over for more than just helping you out Laurel.” He nipped her bottom lip eliciting a sharp sting that turned her on.
“Oh!”
Her shock must have sunk in. He looked at her questioningly. “You do know I’m interested in more, right? And not just sex.”
A couple of minutes passed by in awkward silence before Laurel nodded her head. She did know that in her gut but was too afraid to think it. What if she’d been wrong? What if the flirty phone calls and texts weren’t that? What if he was stringing her along until the book was done and he made sure they were properly credited?
“Do you want something to drink?” Spinning around she broke Quin’s hold, making a mad dash for the kitchen while leaving him to decide if he wanted to follow.
Damn, she didn’t know what she wanted to do now. The need to finish the look-book battled with arousal and her need to sate it. A plan formed in her head. She needed to make this about business and forget the heart throbbing, overwhelming elation she felt when he was around. When they were done, she could freely seduce him into her bed without thinking this was about something else and see how long she could keep him there.
Yanking the fridge door open, she poked her head inside in a lame attempt to cool down as he walked into the kitchen. “I’ve got sweet tea, soda or water. If you’re in the mood for coffee, I have plenty of that but it’ll take a couple minutes to brew.”
“Sweet tea will be fine.”
She pulled the jug out, setting it on the counter. Grabbing up two glass tumblers, she filled them with ice before pouring the tea. Every little step helping her calm down and firming her resolve to work first, play later. She handed a tumbler to Quin and took a quick sip of her own. She bit her lip to keep from groaning out loud as he drained the glass, tipping his head back. She wanted to lick her way up his neck before tasting the sweet tea on his lips.
Keep your mind on business. The fun stuff can come later. She cleared her throat. “So, I pretty much have the book all put together. Why don’t we head to my office so you can see?”
Slipping by him, she silently made her way down the hall and into the one room she spent the majority of her time. She really should put a better bed in here though. The futon just wasn’t cutting it on those days when she was too tired to walk the extra few feet to her bedroom.
Two steps in the door and a wave of nausea hit her. The silver framed photograph she pulled out earlier in the day taunted her as it sat in plain view. She couldn’t believe she forgot it was out.
She glared at it, hoping it would vanish before Quin caught sight. It was the last picture she ever took of him while in school. As painful as the moment had been for her, when she first saw the image she knew she would get it printed. It was the one and only picture she physically had in her possession, regardless of what the rumors had been.
While going through the images from the jump, she found she had fallen into the old pattern of taking pictures of him while he wasn’t looking. Stumbling across one that reminded her of the one from school, she wanted to compare the two images: The one on the computer
screen and the one in the frame. She had been completely caught in the moment.
If only she had put them away and not left them both in plain sight.
Laurel sensed Quin walking in behind her just as she realized her mistake. How guilty would she look if she rushed in and scooped up the frame and tossed it in the bottom drawer of the desk? Probably pretty guilty or at least obvious that something was going on. If she could just make it a couple more steps before he noticed then she’d be golden. She could casually lay the frame down like it was no big deal. Her eyes skittered to the sleeping monitor, not much she could do about that. She just needed to make sure they didn’t bump it and wake the damn thing up.
She took another step forward when he slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, stopping her in her tracks.
“You seem a little up-tight, almost nervous Laurel.” He placed a trail of kisses down the side of her neck.
“I am.” Now she couldn’t move at all. His lips on her neck were inciting a riot of tingles across her skin. Her nipples beaded, pressing against the satin of her bra, seeming to reach out for attention, while a small shiver worked its way down her spine.
“No reason to be nervous with me honey. I’m the same guy I was out at the Shack; the same guy who tucked you in and watched over you during the night. We won’t do anything you don’t want to. We can just work on the book if that’s what you want. Spend time getting to know one another.”
Laurel’s laugh came out strangled. Not do anything? The man was crazy. Her body was turning against her brain and ramping up with need. It wanted more from him while her brain demanded the picture needed to be taken care of. “I know you’re the same guy. It’s just that this feels different.”
He spun her around, walking her backward a couple steps and bumping the desk behind her knocking the frame down. Neither paid much attention to it. “No it isn’t. We are the same people as before. I happen to think there’s a mutual attraction going on and I’d like to explore it. The only thing that’s different is that we’re finally all alone.”
Swooping in he placed soft, gentle kisses on her lips. She didn’t know if he was trying to coax her to relax or trying to lure her into submission with quiet understanding. Either way, he was getting her mind off her dilemma.
She melted into his hard body, pressing her aching breasts against his chest. Slipping her fingers up his arms, she felt the flexing and bunching of hard, sinewy muscles along the way. Finally reaching his head, she tunneled her fingers into his hair. Gripping it in her fists as she increased the pressure of her lips against his. He pulled her closer as though trying to meld their bodies together.
For long minutes they delved into each other’s mouths exploring every aspect while their tongues slid against each other. Quin was the first to pull away, panting heavily.
She knew the minute he spotted the picture. His body stiffened and he took a step back before moving her to the side.
The monitor glowed brightly at them, having come alive when they bumped the desk. The frame with his picture, instead of falling face down, had fallen back leaving his handsome visage staring up at them.
She glanced at Quin, who stood unmoving, jaw clenched, then to the computer and the frame. She could admit this didn’t look good for her. She looked like the lovesick fool everyone claimed she was years ago. Still, she couldn’t help but think that no matter what expression was on display, he was a good-looking man. Too bad she screwed it up already.
Laurel placed her hand on Quin’s arm. “I can explain,” she said softly.
Quin peered at her, a questioning expression on his face.
***
Quin’s eyes were drawn back to the frame holding a picture of him from high school. He recognized immediately when it was taken. A day he tried his hardest to forget and for a while had. It wasn’t until Laurel started coming out to the Shack that it pricked at his conscience. He didn’t even connect the two events together until his brother mentioned Camera Girl, then it hit him like a freight train.
For the life of him he didn’t know why she had the picture. It had to be a bad memory for her.
“Why?” He blurted the question out without thought.
Laurel fidgeted next to him, her head was dipped low, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were turning white. “It was a habit. I didn’t even think twice about snapping your picture when you weren’t looking. When I was going through everything on the memory card, it reminded me of the one in the frame. I got the old one out to see them together. Just so you know, I’m not some kind of stalker or lovesick fool. It was purely coincidence.”
He turned toward her more confused than ever. “What? I meant why do you even have that picture in the frame?”
A bright red blush crept up Laurel’s cheeks. “This is really embarrassing. I’m not sure I want to go there.”
“You’re stalling Laurel. Why would you have something that can’t possibly hold any good memories?”
Her head popped up so quickly he was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. “You remember?”
“Yes.”
“You remember the day that was taken?” She sounded skeptical and he wasn’t sure he liked that. He wasn’t an idiot, well, at least not these days; teenage him was a bit of one at the time.
“I told you I do. Now answer my question. Why do you have that photo?” He knew he should feel bad that he was pushing her. It was obvious this was something she wanted to avoid. He could see that she expected him to be mad. To be honest he wasn’t, shocked sure, but not mad. There was something driving him to hear the story, something that was telling him this was important for both of them.
She seemed to study him for a moment, nibbling on that damn delectable bottom lip. He repressed the groan trying to escape while he waited for his answer. She didn’t need to know he was turned on at the moment. He was oddly flattered she still had the old picture and that she fell into the habit of taking his picture. It meant she was still attracted to him and he’d take that, build on it to make something more.
She pointed to the futon behind him. “Please have a seat.” While he didn’t want to, if it meant he was going to get his answer without further argument or stall tactics, he would do it.
Laurel walked to the desk and picked up the frame, dropping her gaze to the picture. “You have to promise you’ll hear me out without interrupting. It’s probably the only way I’ll get it all out there. You do have the right to know why your face seems to be plastered all over the computer and why I have a framed print of you.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“Really? Everyone either called me Lovesick Laurel or Camera Girl after that day.” She wrinkled her nose before she shook the frame in her hands. “This kind of proves they were right about both.”
He studied her for a moment. Her shoulders looked tense, brow was furrowed. It really did bother her to relive it all. She still carried the humiliation that followed that fateful day; though, looking at her now you wouldn’t know it. At the thought, a sudden flash of guilt swept through him. It was because of him she had to endure those nicknames. “I’d really like to know, Laurel.”
She gave a quick nod of her head. “This was the very last picture I ever took of you, until recently. It was the only time you ever looked right at me. Something I waited all of high school to experience. I never imagined it would turn out so bad and yet feel so good.”
“What?” Quin stopped the rest of the words that wanted to tumble out. He didn’t want her to stop, but he wasn’t sure she had even heard him. She was so focused on her hands and yet lost in her own thoughts.
“I promise this is the only one I ever had, regardless of those silly rumors that circulated around school. I had a huge crush on you like the rest of the female population. This picture is the only evidence of giving into it. When I saw it, I knew I had to have it printed. I had to have it to remind me of the split second when I was the center of your attention. Those few preci
ous seconds when the joy of being noticed coursed through me. But I also needed it to remind me that with the good comes the bad. The teasing and taunting from the popular kids, your indifference when you’d walk by me in the halls, and the hell of those last few months of school almost made those seconds not worth it.
At some point, after school ended, I was able to turn those negatives into a positive. I used those painful moments to see things differently through the lens and became a better photographer. I also decided I wouldn’t let them define me. I did my best to put myself out there more and start living on the other side of the camera. That experience, that one moment in time, shaped who I am today. At least that’s what I think. So I guess, in a way, I should say thank you.”
She looked up at him and he realized she was serious. “I’m not going to say you’re welcome.”
Her forehead scrunched in confusion. He raised his hand to stop any argument that might come out of her mouth. “Now wait, it’s my turn. You need to hear me out.”
Quin got up from his seat and walked over to Laurel. Grabbing up her hand, he looked back at the uncomfortable futon. No way was he getting back on that thing. He pulled her out into the living room where they could be more comfortable, he hoped. She may have turned that experience around and was pretty much over it, but guilt still weighed on him. He pushed her down to the couch, taking a seat next to her. Gathering her hands in his again, he kissed the backs before resting their hands on his thigh.
“I’m sorry all of that ever happened. I regretted what I said the second it was out of my mouth. I wanted to apologize but never had the nerve. The more time that went by, the harder it got. At some point I figured it would be better to ignore you and just move forward, but I never forgot the tears in your eyes as you rushed off. I never forgot the girl I hurt and it killed me in some way. My Momma raised her boys better than to treat a woman like that. My only excuse, and it’s a lame one, is that I was a teenager too full of myself.”
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