Next In Line: A Cake Series Novel

by J. Bengtsson

  He reached over, sliding his finger gently across my lips. “I’m not mad at you, Jess. This job allows you to buy those pink swoosh Nikes. Besides, I might start loving these bus tours, now that they brought you back to me.”

  “I still don’t know how you found me,” I said.

  “And I still don’t know why you didn’t want me to.”

  My cheeks flushed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Not from my end, it’s not. I like you, Jess. Hell, I’ve been beating women off with a stick since the whole Jesserella thing blew up. Who knew chicks loved grand gestures?”

  “Who knew?” I grinned. God, he was so endearing.

  “I mean, I always knew it was a possibility that you were avoiding me, but imagine my surprise when I’m in the driveway of my family’s home and I hear your voice projected over a 1970’s intercom system. I think, ‘Huh, that sounds like Jess, but no way could it be the girl I’ve spent weeks searching for over the internet, because if it is, that would mean she’s known where I’ve been all along and purposely did not want to be found.”

  He stopped, scanning my eyes with his own. “Have I missed anything?”

  Even when he was irritated, he was giving me an out. He wanted this. He wanted us. And I wanted the same.

  “You missed the why,” I replied.

  “There’s a why?”

  “Of course there is. No woman in her right mind would walk away from you.”

  He stepped in closer, gripping my arms. “Then why? Tell me.”

  I looked back at my bus. “I can’t. Not here. I’m working, Quinn. This isn’t professional. I’m not giving my passengers the experience they’ve paid for.”

  “Actually…” Quinn glanced over to the bus and waved. A chorus of swoons followed. “I think they’ve been fully compensated.”

  He had a point. And if it were just that, then there would be no issue, but what I had to say was not for public consumption.

  “Listen, just let me get back to work, and as soon as I drop them off, I’ll call you.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve heard that before,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

  “I get it. But this time, Quinn, I promise.”

  “So last time you didn’t promise? Because it sure seemed like you did.”

  The first inklings of anger crept in. And he had every right to be mad. I was one hundred percent in the wrong. If I’d given any consideration to his feelings, I would’ve afforded him an explanation, but instead, I’d been cowardly, all because I knew if I saw him or even just talked to him on the phone, I wouldn’t have the willpower to stay away.

  My fingers tiptoed over his forearm, his smooth skin as delectable as it had been that night on the couch. “I know I was wrong, Quinn. I should’ve texted you back. I’m so sorry. And I promise as soon as I’m done with this tour, I will call you. Just go back to your house.”

  “Actually, I don’t think I will. In fact, I think I’m going to take your tour.”

  “Oh no, you’re not.”

  He smiled. “Oh yes, I am.”

  “There’s no room on the bus for you.”

  “Then I’ll sit on the floor.”

  “That’s against the law.”

  “Since when do you care about the law?”

  He had a point. I hadn’t given him any indication that I was a rule follower before, so why would he believe me now?

  “Quinn. Stop being difficult. It’s like the pink ball all over again.”

  He was not impressed by my argument. “You brought this on yourself. I don’t trust you, so I’m going to stick right by your side until I get an explanation I can live with.”

  He jogged off in the direction of the bus as I followed close behind. “Seriously, Quinn. Not cool.”

  “I agree, Jesserella. Totally not cool.”

  He cleared the two steps into the bus like a gazelle and headed straight for Delene.

  Reaching a hand out, he introduced himself to her. “Hi, I’m Quinn.”

  She took his hand, almost smiling. “Yes, you are.”

  “Delene, Jess says there’s no room for me. Is that true?”

  Her eyes rolled over him. “Baby, if you can’t find a seat, you can squeeze right in here next to me.”

  My eyes widened to unsafe levels. Was she…was Delene flirting?

  Quinn threw his head back, laughing. “See, Jess? Delene likes me.”

  “And I like you. But that’s not what this is about.”

  “I look forward to the explanation. But until then, I’m just going to make myself comfortable.”

  Quinn didn’t give me a chance for rebuttal. He’d already taken his charm on the road, casually making his way down the single aisle in the bus, shaking hands and taking selfies with anyone who asked.

  Delene looked up at me. “That boy is all trouble.”

  “Don’t I know.”

  “Um…dude?” A young woman appeared in the doorway, her eyes settling on Quinn. “What are you doing?”

  “Being friendly,” he replied. “Jess, this is my sister Grace. Grace, this is my tormentor Jess.”

  Our eyes settled on one another.

  “You’re Jess?” she asked, totally baffled by the unexpected turn of events. “As in Jesserella Jess?”

  Oh god, if I never had to hear that name again, I’d be a happy woman. “Or, you know, just Jess.”

  “I’m so confused right now. Were you taking a sightseeing tour?”

  “No, Grace,” Quinn butted into our conversation. “She’s the guide. She’s been rolling by the house this whole month I’ve been looking for her. Haven’t you, Jesserella?”

  “Quinn, can we save this for our private conversation?”

  “Wait,” Grace replied, the wheels in her head obviously turning. “So, you’ve been…”

  “Ghosting your brother. That’s correct.”

  Grace burst out laughing. “This is… this just gets better and better. You and me, Jess, we need to get a drink.”

  “Hey, stop fraternizing with the enemy,” Quinn called to his sister.

  “I’m the enemy?” I protested.

  “You are until proven otherwise.”

  “Then what are you doing on my bus?”

  He paused a moment, perhaps considering why himself. “Proving otherwise.”

  Grace looked back at me. “You can’t reason with that logic.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  Just the way she looked at her brother told me she clearly adored him, and that made Quinn all the more attractive.

  Quinn slid into a row next to a teenage girl who’d broken ranks with her family the minute she’d entered the bus for my afternoon tour.

  “Hi. I’m Quinn.”

  The girl went temporarily mute, blinking up at him in awe. I knew the feeling well.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” he asked, already getting comfortable as he stretched out like he had in my car. I smiled at his ease.

  “Apparently you’re staying,” Grace said. “What do you want me to tell Mom? She’s expecting you for dinner later.”

  “Tell her I’ve been abducted by a bus full of angels. That should calm her down.”

  “Right. Because any mention of abduction in our family is met with lighthearted giggles,” Grace countered.

  Their relaxed ribbing caught the attention of every person in the bus. It was so out of place with the image most people had of this famously reserved family.

  “Okay, well. Sorry, Jess,” Grace said as she moved off the bus. “I tried.”

  And just as Quinn’s easy demeanor had captured my attention, so did Grace’s. There was just no way not to like her.

  “Nice meeting you,” I called out to her as Delene closed the door.

  I watched her wave as she walked up to a man and slid her fingers into his.

  “This whole day…” Delene mumbled before putting her bus in gear.

  “I hear ya,” I said before tur
ning the microphone back on and addressing my passengers. “Okay, Angels, I hope you don’t mind, but we picked up a straggler. Give it up for Quinn McKallister.”

  There was a rousing round of applause.

  “Answer the question,” someone in the back called out.

  “The question?”

  “So, Quinn knows it’s you.”

  “I think he knows already.”

  More chanting. “Answer the question!”

  “Just answer the question, Jess,” Quinn smirked.

  I spoke low and deliberately into the mic. “Someplace fun—but not too fun.”

  My answer was met with roaring approval as Delene pulled back onto the road.

  “Hey, Jess, I want to hear what you have to say about the people who live in that house,” Quinn said, pointing out his own palace.

  Oh, that smug look. He was playing with me. And not only that but he was looking frustratingly comfortable, with one leg crossed over the other and his arm resting on the back of his seat.

  “I think I’ve said enough,” I replied.

  He held my stare, his lip curled up ever so slightly. “Humor me.”

  Fine. He wanted a tour? I’d give him a tour. Launching into a monologue about the McKallister family, I mentioned not only Jake but also Kyle’s time on the reality survival show and the oldest sister’s husband, Finn, himself a popular actor. And with my eyes never leaving his, I concluded with a piece about the family’s youngest son.

  “If you will remember, Quinn McKallister recently competed on the singing competition Next in Line. He was the awkward fella wearing a full-body sea lion costume, not because he was forced to but because he just really likes attention and doesn’t care how he gets it.”

  Quinn laughed along with the other passengers. Snapping his fingers, he motioned me forward. “Give me that.”

  I handed him the microphone.

  “Sit down now, missy. I’ll take it from here.” Quinn stood up and pointed out the window. “The house up there on the left belongs to actress Tara Agora. Every year, she throws a huge birthday bash—for herself.”

  Quinn went on to give deliciously detailed, inside trader accounts of all his neighbors. I found myself as engaged as everyone else, watching him shine by just being the guy I fell for that one rainy California day. And although I hadn’t been with him since, I’d been following along in the media like everyone else. I’d watched in awe as Quinn had gone from an internet sensation to a vulnerable heartthrob to the frontman of a breakout band with a hit single that was taking over the airwaves.

  Quinn’s future was already outlined. Now all he had to do was fill in the blanks. I wanted to be a footnote on those pages… No, I wanted to fill every line. Maybe I hadn’t given Quinn enough credit. I’d thought he’d just move on, but he hadn’t. He’d held on… made a stand. Held himself faithful to me.

  I owed Quinn the truth. I would tell him about Noah and explain my reasoning. Maybe he would understand, maybe he wouldn’t, but at least I would have said my piece so that both of us could move on.

  Eventually, I wrestled the microphone from his hands and finished the tour. When Delene pulled into the parking spot nearly two hours later, there wasn’t a person in the bus who wasn’t smiling from ear to ear. Quinn had made today something special. Something unexpected. To have a celebrity wave and say hi on our route was one thing, but what Quinn had done was unlike anything I’d ever heard or seen. He’d put himself out there in a big way, and while it had paid off in the short term with a very pleased group of tourists, in the long run, I hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it.

  Just as the last passenger disembarked, I saw Andrea running toward the bus, waving us down. Delene opened the doors to let her in.

  “Don’t get off the bus,” she said as she climbed up the stairs, panting.

  “Quinn, this is my sister Andrea. Andrea, this is my stalker Quinn.”

  “Nice to meet you, Quinn. Were the two of you aware that the passengers on the bus have been livestreaming?”

  Quinn’s brows shot up. “Ah, shit. Tara will never speak to me again.”

  “You may need to move,” I agreed. I was in as giddy a mood as my departed passengers. Quinn really had made my day. My month. My life.

  “Actually, Andrea, I think we all know who to blame,” Quinn said, clearing his throat. “Delene.”

  My driver shook her fist at him, but there wasn’t an ounce of animosity. Dare I say the two had become friends along the route?

  “I’m glad you all had such fun, but there’s one person who isn’t as happy—your manager, Quinn.”

  “Tucker?”

  “Yes, Tucker. He called me. And has sent security to hold back the crowd.”

  “Wait,” I said, looking out the window. “Why is there a crowd?”

  Andrea gaped at me before tapping my chest. “Jess.”

  Her finger then tapped on his. “Quinn.”

  We both looked on, still not comprehending the connection.

  “Wow, you two really are meant for each other, aren’t you? Quinn McKallister just found his Jesserella. It’s a real-life fairy tale, and people have been flooding onto the boulevard in hopes of catching a glimpse of the crowning.”

  “My god,” Quinn replied. “I am Prince Gaston. My brothers are going to absolutely rip me to shreds for this one.”

  “At least you got a cool name. Jesserella sounds like someone’s heaving up a hairball.”

  “Hey. Hello,” my sister said, snapping her fingers at us. “You two really need to focus. Delene, drive them to the lot. Jess, you and your rock star can make your getaway from there. Oh, and Quinn? Thank you for the best publicity a tour company could ever have.”

  21

  Quinn: The Unbroken

  It wasn’t until I was sitting in the passenger seat of Jess’s car that I realized the significance of the moment. We’d come full circle. I was back where I belonged. Twisting my head in her direction, I smiled.

  She glanced back. “Wipe that smile off your face, Quinn.”

  A low rumbling laughter burst forth.

  “You don’t get to enjoy this,” she said, her own amusement coming out to play. “If you’d just stayed home where you belonged, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “Fair. But if you’d just answered my damn texts, it wouldn’t have happened either. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say you brought this on yourself. You could’ve knocked on my door at any time in the past five weeks. You’re the problem here, not me.”

  Jess bit down on her lower lip, staring straight ahead. “No, you’re right. This is all my fault. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted either.”

  “Then why do it? You make no sense.”

  “I know. And I will tell you, it’s just… I have to drop something off really quick, and then we’ll go somewhere and talk, okay?”

  Did I have a choice? No. Her silence confused me. Why was she hesitating? There was no denying our chemistry was right where’d we’d left it. And now, seeing her again, I was more determined than ever to make her mine. But Jess was in charge of this negotiation, not me, and whatever was holding her back seemed major enough that I might not get what I wanted in the end.

  Jess pulled into a parking lot and turned off her car. I read the sign on the front of the building—The Maas Transitional Housing Center—and then quickly glanced over at Jess.

  “Do you work here too?”

  “No. Someone I love lives here.”

  The revelation stunned me. Someone Jess loved was homeless? She reached into the back seat to grab a bag before turning to address me.

  “You can wait in the car,” she said, opening the door and stepping out. “I’ll be back quick.”

  I opened my own door and climbed out.

  “Quinn—I’m not going to abandon you. I’m coming back. It’s my car.”

  “I know. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to meet this person you love.”

  Sh
e stopped, her eyes wary. “It’s not pretty.”

  “I grew up in ‘not pretty.’”

  Jess considered my words before reaching her hand out to me. “Okay.”

  My fingers slipped into hers and we entered together. Jess didn’t stop for directions, moving through the facility with purpose, her head held high. If I hadn’t been convinced of this woman’s worth before now, this moment sealed the deal. Like me, Jess would walk through fire to protect the ones she loved.

  We moved down a hallway that led into an expansive rec room in the back. She made a beeline for a man sitting in a wheelchair, his leg in a cast that reached up to his knee. He was staring at the wall. He must have heard us approach because he turned and reached his hand out to Jess. She dropped mine and took his, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

  “Hi Dad. How are you feeling today?”

  The desperation on his weathered face was clear. “Not good. I need a drink, Jesse. They won’t give me one, and I can’t go out and get one myself because of my leg. Just one. Please, help me.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  He pulled her in closer, whispering, “They’re trying to kill me.”

  “No, they’re helping you, Dad. It should only be a few more days and then they’ll get you in the rehab facility. I know it’s hard, but you’re doing great.”

  “No, I’m not! I’m not doing great at all. I need something now,” he barked before spotting me and jabbing his finger in my direction. “You!”

  I shot to attention.

  “You look like you’ve got a secret stash somewhere. Weed. Coke. I’ll accept any and all donations.”

  Jess caught my eye and rolled hers. Her dad’s request seemed more serious than the roll of an eye, but if she said so.

  “Sorry, man. I’m clean out of blow.”

  His eyes narrowed in on me. Pissed. Then he cast me off. “Go away then. Get!”

  “Dad. He’s not a stray dog. This is my friend Quinn. Be nice.”

  “Nice? You want me to be nice when you’ve imprisoned me in this hell?”

  “Would you rather be on the streets?”

  “Is that even a question?”

  “Okay, then. Tell me how you’ll manage in a wheelchair. How will you go to the bathroom? How will you sleep?”