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QUINN'S HART
by
CASSANDRA GOLD
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.amberquill.com
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Quinn's Hart
An Amber Quill Press Book
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Amber Quill Press, LLC
http://www.AmberQuill.com
http://www.AmberHeat.com
http://www.AmberAllure.com
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
Copyright © 2010 by Cassandra Gold
ISBN 978-1-60272-636-9
Cover Art © 2010 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting
Provided by: Elemental Alchemy
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Qwillia, who helped me more than she knows.
Chapter 1
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Quinn Delaney felt like a sardine in a can. Shifting uncomfortably, he tried to get into a position that would allow him at least a little freedom of movement. At six foot seven and two hundred and fifty pounds, the odds were against him. His knees were right up against the seat in front of him, blocking his access to the tray table, and the armrests hemmed him in on either side in a way that made him claustrophobic.
Airplane seats were made for people like the woman next to him, who was thin enough that a strong gust of wind could blow her away. She'd given Quinn a few nervous looks when he'd taken his seat beside her. Used to that sort of reaction from women, and sometimes men, he hadn't made any attempt to talk to her. When he was younger, her reaction would have hurt. He had a thicker skin now, or so he tried to tell himself. After a few minutes she had relaxed and put on some headphones.
He sighed. All this for a singles trip he hadn't even wanted to attend in the first place. He'd tried to tell Stephanie Disney World was ridiculous for a man his age. She hadn't listened, of course.
He wished he had brought his iPod, or anything to distract himself with. He had a book, but he couldn't stay interested in the storyline. There wasn't enough room for him to get out his laptop, unless he managed to shrink himself, which didn't seem too likely. Even sleep would be difficult, since he couldn't stretch out.
Bored and uncomfortable was not a good combination with more than two hours of flight time left. Quinn glanced around the section of the cabin he could see, seeking out anything of interest. A few seats behind him and to the right, a mother scolded a little boy who had spilled his drink. Further back, a couple argued in raised voices until a flight attendant approached them. Uncomfortable at seeing what should have been a private moment, Quinn turned his gaze forward.
A few seats ahead of him, in the aisle seat like he was but on the opposite side of the plane, a man talked to one of the male flight attendants. They were both laughing. To Quinn's none-too-discerning eye, it looked like the flight attendant was flirting with the passenger. Of course, anyone, male or female, would notice him.
Quinn stared. If he described his ideal man, the end result would be pretty damned close to the man in front of him. The guy had blond-streaked brown hair long enough to cover the tops of his ears, dark eyes, and the kind of smile that made people want to smile back. Quinn couldn't see much of his body from his vantage point, but the man had nice broad shoulders and his left arm looked nicely muscled.
Maybe he's going on the singles trip, too. No, Quinn would never be that lucky. Besides, if the guy was on the trip, he'd end up being one of the straight guys. It was supposed to be a mixed trip, with gay, lesbian, and straight travelers. According to his friend Stephanie, a travel agent who'd helped set up the trip, they would be separated into their various "possibility groups" for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow in order for everyone to know who they should be flirting with. There were also a few scheduled activities, but after the first couple of days they were on their own.
Quinn didn't know whether he dreaded the structured activities or the unstructured days more. The activities would force him to meet new people and mingle, two things he hated, but at least he wouldn't be alone. Once the tour guides turned them loose, he doubted anyone would choose to pair up with him.
Closing his eyes, he blocked out the sight of the good-looking man. There was no point in getting his hopes up. Maybe he could get comfortable enough to take a nap instead.
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By the time the plane touched down at Orlando International Airport, Quinn was ready to jump out of his skin. Sleep had eluded him, mostly due to his pretzel-like position. Instead, he'd whiled away much of the two hours watching the cute guy a few rows ahead of him. Almost every time Quinn caught a glimpse of him, he was smiling or laughing. Quinn couldn't help wondering what it would be like to bask in that happiness, just for a little while. He pushed the thought out of his head as soon as it occurred.
Quinn waited until the plane was close to empty before he exited. He grabbed his laptop case and followed the few remaining stragglers off the plane and into the terminal. Once inside, he figured the other people on the flight would lead him to the baggage claim, so he kept following them. The small procession wended its way through the terminal, past stores and restaurants. The scents of coffee, hamburgers, pizza, tacos, and cinnamon rolls all mixed together to form a combination that wasn't very appetizing. Quinn wrinkled his nose and walked faster.
Luckily, Quinn's strategy of following other passengers worked. He stood against the wall to wait for his luggage, out of the way of the bustling travelers all around him. He spotted several people who had been in his section on the plane, including the tiny woman who'd sat next to him. Nearby, two children chattered about the rides they would go on at Disney World. He smiled a little at their enthusiasm. If he were that age again, he might be more excited about going to the park. Would it be fun at his age? The part of him that had never gotten the chance to be a child said yes. The practical part of him said probably not so much.
Not liking the turn of his thoughts, he glanced around for something to take his mind off the wait. Advertisements encrusted the walls, mostly for Disney World, Universal Studios, and Sea World. Each poster featured smiling, happy children or families. Of course the ads had to show happy people. Angry or bored people wouldn't sell many tickets. Still, the whole happy vibe felt like more pressure, which was the last thing he needed.
At last, his plain black Pullman suitcase appeared on the conveyor belt. He hefted it and wondered what to do next. Stephanie had told him transportation to the hotel would be provided, but he wasn't sure where to go.
A woman in a business suit smiled at him. "Can I help you?"
He felt stupid. He should have asked more questions the last time he talked to Stephanie. "I'm supposed to have transportation to my hotel, but I'm not sure what kind."
The woman didn't appear to think his question was dumb. "Are you here as part of a group?"
Quinn's face heated. He mumbled, "Yes, a singles' tour."
Her smile brightened. She held up a sign that read Carlisle Tours. "You're with me, then. I'm Elaine."
"Nice to meet you, Elaine. I'm Quinn."
"Follow me, Quinn. You're the last person on the list from this flight, so we can head to the hotel." She motioned toward the shuttle area.
"Great." Quinn fell
into step behind her, stifling his urge to run away.
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A few minutes later, Elaine herded Quinn out to a shuttle. He climbed into the last remaining seat, and she hopped into the front passenger seat. As the driver pulled away from the curb, she twisted in her seat to face the passengers in the back. "We'll be at the hotel in about twenty minutes. At eight o'clock tonight, there will be a meet and greet dinner. Appetizers and drinks will be available starting at seven-thirty. We encourage everyone to attend so you can meet the other singles."
That sounded awful to Quinn. It made him think of standing by the wall at high school dances, knowing nobody wanted to dance with him. Or the New Year's party Stephanie had dragged him to a couple of years ago, where he hadn't known anyone. The other passengers didn't seem to share Quinn's dim view of the evening. The two women in the backseat, a slim redhead and a curvy brunette, squealed with delight. Between them sat a man whose expression changed from worried to pleased and back again.
The other two passengers were men. Next to Quinn, a slim, elegant type with frosted highlights and stylish, expensive clothing reclined against the seat like he was posing. From the way he kept checking out the other guys, Quinn figured he fell on the gay end of the spectrum. Either that or he was sizing up the competition, which didn't seem likely.
At the far end of the bench seat was Quinn's dream man. Quinn glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to be caught staring. He was even more attractive up close, with his bright, genuine smile and dark eyes.
"So, what's your name?" The brunette's voice, directed at the man next to him, broke into Quinn's attempt to determine what color his dream guy's eyes were.
Mr. Frosted Highlights slanted a practiced grin at the woman. "I'm Damien Arnold. I'm an entrepreneur."
The redhead leaned forward. "Gay or straight?"
"Gay, I'm afraid." Damien winked at the women.
"Darn." Her lips pursed in a ridiculous pout, the redhead switched her attention to the Quinn. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. His size no doubt caused the reaction, but his face wasn't anything to write home about either.
Quinn hunched in his seat, wishing he could disappear. His face heated. He tried to think of something to say, anything at all, but his mind was blank.
The redhead opened her mouth to speak, but the man from the plane beat her to the punch. "Are you ladies ready for the meet and greet tonight?"
His comment diverted the women. "I've got the hottest dress," the brunette gushed, and the conversation turned to the night ahead.
Quinn let out a breath of pure relief, grateful for the reprieve. One of these days he hoped he would be able to talk to people without freezing up, but apparently today wasn't that day. He'd been paralyzed with nerves anytime he met new people since he was a child. At thirty-six, he ought to be better at this. He leaned against the door and half-listened to the chatter around him, sneaking looks at his sexy rescuer. He didn't even know the man's name.
Quinn sighed. He doubted the meet and greet dinner would be the magical event the women seemed to be envisioning, but maybe he'd be wrong.
Chapter 2
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Had there ever been a worse idea in the history of the universe? As he got himself ready for the meet and greet, Quinn began to think there hadn't. Why had he let Stephanie talk him into taking a singles trip, to Disney World of all places? He hated crowds and meeting new people. This was going to be a disaster. An awkward, humiliating disaster.
Only Stephanie's unflinching optimism and constant nagging had convinced him to sign up for the trip in the first place. He'd said no when she called a week ago to tell him they had accidentally overbooked a group trip she'd helped organize and she needed one more gay man to even the numbers. Of course, she'd kept calling until he finally agreed to go.
Ever the optimist, Stephanie seemed convinced he would meet Mr. Right on the trip, which he found doubtful. He had no illusions about his own attractiveness, either physically or personality-wise. Stephanie could have asked any of his exes from his few, pitiful relationships, and they would tell her Quinn wasn't much of a catch. His dismal track record was all the more reason to believe this trip was doomed to fail. If he was very lucky, maybe she would take his miserable failure as a sign and stop trying to fix him up. Not likely.
Five minutes before eight, Quinn slipped into the large conference room where the pre-dinner drinks and appetizers were being served. Men and women packed the room, most dressed to impress. They stood talking and drinking in pairs and small groups spread throughout the large space. The outside-looking-in feeling he always got struck, and he paused for a moment, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt.
Nervous didn't even begin to describe Quinn's mindset. He was a wreck. The urge to go back up to his room and hide plagued him, but he refused to give in to it. Whether he wanted to be here or not, he'd paid for the trip, and he'd promised Stephanie he would try his best. Hiding out in his room would not be his best.
He smoothed a hand over the front of his favorite dress shirt, black with dark gray pinstripes. Maybe the shirt had been a poor choice. His slacks were black as well. With his dark hair and his less-than-handsome features, he must look like an undertaker. Or a wannabe mobster. What had he been thinking?
No time to go back to the room and change, though, because Elaine from the airport spotted him. She smiled and strode in his direction. Stifling a resigned sigh, he met her halfway. "Hello."
"I'm glad you decided to come down. Let's get you a name tag." She took his arm and towed him to a small table in the corner.
At the table, a tiny young woman peered up at him. "What's your name?"
"Quinn Delaney." He hunched his shoulders to keep from looming over the girl, a tough feat at his size.
The young woman found a name tag with a red border and handed it to him. "Here you go, sir. You'll be eating in Room Two. Enjoy!"
Elaine beamed and waved him toward the crowded room. "Dinner will be starting in a couple of minutes. Anyone with a red border on their name tag is in your possibility group. There are twenty of you."
Possibility group. God. Why had Stephanie thought he'd enjoy this? Quinn dredged up a quick smile for the two women and made his way to the wall. He leaned against the bland beige surface and looked around the room with new interest. Scattered among what had to be at least a hundred people were nineteen other gay men. He spotted a lot of men and women wearing blue name tags, and some women who had yellow ones. The smirky guy, Damien, from the shuttle stood in the opposite corner of the room, holding court in the center of a group of men wearing red name tags.
To his disappointment, Quinn didn't see the one face he'd been hoping to see--the attractive man from the plane and the shuttle. Of course there wasn't much point in getting his hopes up. Given his luck, the man would be either straight or not interested.
"Attention everyone!" Elaine clapped her hands and the room slowly quieted. "Dinner is about to begin."
People began to make their way to their assigned dinner rooms, and the noise level went right back up. Quinn held back, staying at the wall until most of the other people had left. Trying not to succumb to nerves, he took a deep breath and followed the crowd.
He reached Room Two just in time to hear one of the tour's organizer speaking. "Before you eat, I'd like you to introduce yourselves. Give your name and occupation, and anything else you'd like." The older man glanced around the room. His gaze landed on Quinn. "Why don't you start for us?"
Certain he looked like a deer in the headlights, or perhaps one that had already been hit by a car, Quinn choked out, "Quinn Delaney. Thirty-six. Engineer." His face felt like he'd been standing by a blast furnace, just from the attention of twenty people for a few seconds. He was never going to survive this week.
The man nearest to him, a short, stocky redhead with a goatee, spoke next, taking the attention away from Quinn. "I'm Art Jackson. I'm forty years old, and I own a restaura
nt."
After that, the introductions flew fast and furious. Quinn breathed a sigh of relief at having his over with and tried to listen to the others. All of the men were between thirty and forty-five and held a wide array of jobs. It was reassuring to see that while some of them were very attractive, others were more average. None of them came close to matching his height, something he had resigned himself to long ago.
"I guess I'm last."
The familiar voice jerked Quinn out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the brunet from the plane and the shuttle, dressed in dark boot cut jeans and a simple white long-sleeved dress shirt. Staring at him now, Quinn could see that he hadn't exaggerated the man's appeal in his mind. The man stood about six feet tall and had a nice build, muscled in a sleek way rather than bulky like himself.
"I'm Josh Hart. I'm thirty-one, and I'm a pediatrician." Josh grinned and added, "And I'm starving. Can we eat?"
Everyone laughed. The travel company employee reminded them of breakfast at nine in the morning and directed them to the buffet line. Quinn took his time getting there. He picked up a plate and selected a few things that looked good, hoping his appetite would return when his nerves let up a bit.
He dawdled so long he had to take the last seat at one of the two large tables. Josh was at the other table, as was Damien. Their table laughed and talked like old friends. The table Quinn joined had a more subdued atmosphere, for which he was grateful. He pushed his food around and listened to the talk around him, trying to get up the courage to make eye contact with someone, or contribute to the conversation.
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