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.