Midnight Oil: Plaything #5 Read online

  Tate was avoiding eye contact, pretending to be absorbed in making his sandwich. "I've got enough for a few games."

  "From where?" I laughed dryly. "Did you sell a kidney or something?"

  He slathered so much mayo on his bread, bits of it were splattering all over the counter. He stayed focused on his task and far away from my questioning gaze.

  "Tate, where did you get the money?" The answer to the question was slowly dawning on me. Suddenly, it felt as if someone had just dropped rocks into my gut. "Tate?"

  He piled the last bits of ham onto his sandwich.

  I walked toward the kitchen. "My grandmother's platinum watch," I said with a waver in my voice. "The one I've been looking for all month." My words grew quiet as I absorbed the reality of the situation. The man, who had on many occasions declared his undying love to me, had taken my watch, the one left to me by a beloved grandmother and my most prized possession, and sold it to a pawn shop so he could buy beer and play poker.

  I stared at him in cold silence waiting for him to finish the charade of making a sandwich. He didn't look up from the bread as he laid the knife next to the plate. He finally found the courage to lift his face to me. "I was only planning to hawk it for one day. I needed enough for a few games of poker. I won enough and headed straight back to the shop. I swear I did, babe." He spoke faster as my tears fell. "But when I got back to the pawn shop, someone had already bought the watch."

  Tate circled around the kitchen counter and neared me. He reached up with his thumb to wipe away a tear but I swatted his hand down. "Stay the hell away from me. I've got to go to work," I muttered between sniffles. "I'm off at eleven. Don't forget to pick me up." I stormed out and slammed the door behind me.

  Three

  Quinn

  It was that crazy half hour before the dinner and theater show started. The crowd was lined up around the massive building to find their seats for tonight's medieval meal and jousting competition. Not that it was truly a competition since the scenarios were planned out in advance. But the audience didn't know that or at least they chose to believe that anything could happen. The coliseum shaped theater was filled with risers so that the entire audience could see the center of the arena where all the action would take place. The stage was as big as a football field which gave us knights plenty of room to run our horses straight toward each other for our well choreographed jousts. Not that it was so well choreographed that we avoided all injuries. Mistakes happened and if timing was off just a tiny bit or if a horse spooked or did one of the many silly things a hyped up horse is capable of, then injuries were inevitable. Even when one of us got hurt, the rest of the actors were trained to make it all seem like it was part of the show. The audience could go right on lifting their pewter tins of ale and gnawing on their roasted turkey legs while we quickly moved an injured actor off the jousting field.

  Billy, one of the dressing assistants, finished tying off the last of my shoulder plates. The owners had spent a fortune hiring costume designers to create elaborate and functional costumes for each member of the theater. It took a good hour and two assistants to transform me from plain old, everyday Quinn into the Red Knight. The armor was both for show and safety. It made movement and riding a horse a chore but our modern made armor was much lighter and more efficient than the cumbersome crap the real medieval knights had to wear.

  I took one last glance in the full length mirror. Kyla, the stylist, had pulled the top half of my long hair back with a strip of leather, a look that went with the whole knight thing and had the bonus of keeping my hair out of my eyes when I was under the full face helmet.

  My armor made me so wide, I had to turn sideways down the narrow hallway leading from the dressing area to the center of the behind the scenes activity. The groomers would have the horses ready and waiting in all their medieval regalia. I was on Archer tonight. He tended to ride hot when there was a big, boisterous crowd. And from the hum of noise outside the building walls, it was going to be one of those nights.

  I passed the corridor opening that led to the kitchens and food service area. Suzy, the server I'd been admiring from afar, was lifting a tray of glasses onto her hip. Her pretty face scrunched as she winced in pain. She quickly shifted the tray to the other hip. I dashed down the hall to help her. I was, after all, a knight.

  "Fair lady, doth thou need help with thy tray?" I asked in my deep knight's voice.

  She shook her head and that smile of hers, the one that could light a thousand candles, brightened her face. "If it isn't my favorite knight to the rescue," she said lightly

  I took the tray of glasses from her. "Where to, milady?"

  "The red section. I'm one of your serving wenches tonight." Her pale blue eyes always knocked me momentarily senseless.

  "If only that were true in every sense, milady. For you have already captured every inch of my soul with those powder blue eyes and that heart melting smile."

  She rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't you be saving that mush for the fair Princess Gwendolyn? I've heard that she was your latest conquest, both on and off the jousting field."

  I feigned outrage and followed her to the corridor that led to the dining arena. "Those scandalous rumors are—well, mostly true." I popped out of my knightly character. "Gwen and I had a thing for about a month, but it's over. I've definitely learned my lesson about dating women I work with." My big boots thundered in the corridor. We reached the dining area door. Suzy held it open for me as I shambled past in my unwieldy costume with the tray of glasses.

  She had just enough dimple in her right cheek to make a man crazy. "I'm proud of you, Quinn. It only took you—what—fifteen women to finally learn your lesson? Or maybe you just ran out of prospects."

  I followed her to her station in the red section and put the tray down. "I haven't run out of prospects," I said with all seriousness as I gazed down at her. I had been crushing on Suzy Riley since I started working at the Medieval Joust Theater but she was in a relationship. And I'd already convinced myself she was way too good for me. Just like she was way too good for the job and the asshole she was dating. I'd only met him twice, once at a holiday party and once at a company picnic. I'd instantly sized him up as a complete fucking jerk who had no business with a girl like Suzy. Of course, that could have just been the jealousy talking but still, it would have been satisfying as fuck to throw my fist in the guy's face just once.

  There was an edge of sadness in her laugh. "Trust me the last thing I need in my already screwed up life is Quinn Armstrong, otherwise known in this building and I'm sure everywhere past these walls, as the tall, dark player."

  I took lightly hold of her hand. "Not true. Just waiting for the right wench to own my heart. Actually, she already does, but she doesn't seem to want to own it. Just remember, Suzy Q, when you're tired of being a serving wench, this knight is waiting to make you his fair maiden."

  She laughed. "Go get on your horse, crazy man, before I start to believe your bullshit."

  I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed it before peering one last time into those unbelievable blue eyes. "It's not bullshit. One day you'll come to your senses and leave that guy—" I straightened. She looked so small and frail and more than a little lost as she gazed up at me. "I'll be waiting for you, Suzy Q."

  Her cheeks turned pink and she held back a smile. "Thanks for the help with the trays. By the way, does the Red Knight win tonight?" she called to me.

  I looked back. "Nope, I take a dive after the first joust. So you better keep those pints filled." The audience members tended to get pretty damn competitive during the show, and when their knight was defeated, things could get rowdy. "I bid you ado, my fair lady and remember what I said." I reached the door.

  "I thought you were done dating women at work," she called back to me.

  I looked over my shoulder at her. The corset belt was cinched tightly around her tiny waist, accentuating the curves above and below it. I had seen her without her costume and her body was
just as delicious without the saucy wench costume and corset. I'd spent plenty of time thinking about holding those curves and running my mouth along her creamy skin.

  "For you, Suzy Q, I would break all the rules." I winked at her and walked out the door.

  Four

  Suzy

  I hadn't realized how badly I'd bruised myself on the coffee table until I started hoisting heavy trays and leaning over tables. Two aspirins had gotten me through a long, loud dinner shift. I was thrilled when the work night ended. I only wished I was heading home to something altogether more pleasant and enjoyable than my depressing little rental and my even more depressing boyfriend.

  I'd pushed the heartbreak of losing my grandmother's watch to a game of poker out of my mind once I got to work. The job was so hectic, I needed to be on my toes and ready for anything. At least tonight there weren't any crude, rude drunks, like my boyfriend, to fend off. Occasionally, a dinner guest or party got too fired up and the big mugs of beer didn't help. The management frowned on us complaining about harassment. They rarely asked a guest to leave. They didn't like the negative publicity. Instead, we servers were supposed just grin and stay polite and avoid grabby hands and inappropriate advances. Easier said than done in a crowded dining hall.

  I sent another text to Tate. "I'm waiting on the east side of the building, near the parking lot. Hurry up, I'm cold and tired." It was my second text to remind him that he had to pick me up since he had so boldly helped himself to my car. I dropped the phone into my purse and sat on the bench outside the building.

  For a summer night, it was a touch chilly, but I had left the house in such a state of stress I'd forgotten my sweater. I crossed my arms around myself for warmth. Most everyone else had already left for the night, but there were a few cars in the lot, including Quinn's silver Porsche. His car was easy to spot because he was the only employee who drove a car that was worth three full years of pay. The Red Knight's horse had stumbled during the joust and knowing Quinn, he had stuck around to make sure the animal was all right. I didn't know too much about his personal life except what I'd heard through snippets of conversation with my coworkers. Apparently, Quinn's older brother was co-owner of a multi-billion dollar company that sold, of all things, monthly subscriptions for adult toys.

  Quinn Armstrong was one of those men who could draw all the energy in the room right toward him. It helped that he was extraordinarily handsome, built like a superhero and yet still managed to be charming. Normally, men with all the physical attributes lacked in personality but Quinn was different. It was one of the reasons every unattached woman at the dinner theater had at one point or another dated the man. I would be lying if I didn't admit to finding myself in the occasional erotic daydream with Quinn. The man oozed sexual magnetism. Just like this evening when he helped me with the tray, he was constantly teasing me, flirting with me, telling me he was waiting for me to give up on Tate. While it seemed I was slowly, truly giving up on Tate, I was convinced the last thing I needed was one of Quinn's short, fiery flings. And from what I'd heard, again through the gossip tree, they were indeed fiery. It seemed along with the good looks and charming personality, Quinn, according to coworkers with firsthand knowledge, definitely knew his way around a woman's body.

  Tate and I had a sex life that was occasionally good but usually mediocre. That was mostly due to his selfish style in bed, where his climax was paramount and mine was just a nice side benefit. For that past year, I had shunned his advances more than warmed up to them. I told myself it was because I was tired from work, but deep down, I knew it was because my feelings for Tate were fading into a dull gray emptiness.

  I checked my phone but there was no message from Tate. I swiped my thumb over the phone icon. It rang once and went straight to voicemail. He had either turned it off or forgotten to charge it. "What an ass." I dropped the phone into my purse and stared out at the road. During the day, it was a busy four lane street, but at this hour, it was deserted . . . and dark. It was a one mile walk to the nearest bus stop and my feet were tired. Not to mention that the bruise on my hip was so tender every step hurt.

  The back door opened and Quinn stepped out. He was busy texting and didn't notice me sitting on the bench. I kept quiet and watched his tall, broad shouldered figure cross the parking lot to his car. He walked with that easy, confident swagger that fit his personality perfectly. I rested my head back against the brick wall behind me and closed my eyes. I briefly allowed myself a few hot moments of imagining myself in his capable arms. Quinn's large hands sweeping over my naked skin, his tongue teasing my taught nipple before making its way to my aching pussy. Tingling heat unfurled between my legs. Just fantasizing about the man, while sitting on a cold hard bench and leaning against a rough brick wall, produced more physical reaction than five minutes of Tate's idea of rushed, clumsy foreplay. A flicker of envy went through me as I thought about my coworkers getting to experience a good, attentive long fuck with Quinn Armstrong. Maybe it would be worth the heartbreak of knowing that he would soon move on to his next conquest just to experience a few luscious nights in Quinn's bed.

  Headlights flashed across my face rousing me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes and squinted into the strong beam of light. The Porsche turned off and Quinn climbed out of the car. He had taken the leather strap from his hair, and it hung long and loose over his shoulders. He had pulled on a black sports coat over a green shirt. "Suzy Q, what on earth are you doing out here all alone in the shadows?"

  Quinn had started calling me Suzy Q from the first day we met. Brenda, the casting director, had been so thrilled at landing her new Red Knight, she had personally walked him around to introduce him to the rest of us. He broke right into an impressive version of Creedence Clearwater's Suzy Q when Brenda told him my name. It wasn't the first time someone had called me Suzy Q but it was certainly the most memorable.

  I crossed my arms tighter against the cold. "I'm just waiting for Tate to pick me up. He needed my car tonight."

  Quinn removed his coat. "Stand up so I can drop this around your shoulders. I don't need it tonight anyhow. I was supposed to head to a party, but I decided to skip it and head home."

  "Are you sure? I'll probably only be here a few more minutes."

  He held the coat up. "Come on. You can't be sitting out here in that wench costume. You're likely to attract all kinds of vagabonds and pillagers."

  I stood to be wrapped in the coat. "I definitely don't want to attract pillagers, but I've heard vagabonds are quite gentlemanly in the sack."

  His deep, low laugh caused his warm breath to tickle my forehead as he reached behind me with the coat. I stared straight at his masculine throat and took the opportunity to breathe in the scent of his aftershave, a mellow, pleasant scent, an expensive one, no doubt. Men in Porsches didn't splash on the drug store bargain stuff.

  I realized then, with a certain amount of shock, that we had never stood quite so close. His unintentional nearness sent a shiver through me.

  "See, you were cold. Good thing I had my coat." Quinn mistook the slight tremble as a result of the cold, but I knew it came from an entirely different source. There was no denying it, when he was close enough to see every long spike of eyelash and every bit of stubble from his five-o'clock shadow, Quinn Armstrong was a fucking male masterpiece.

  He pulled the oversized coat around my shoulders and pinched it shut as he tilted his head to look at my face. "Better?"

  I went from sitting on a frigid bench in my thin cotton peasant blouse to being draped and swaddled in Quinn's warm masculine scent. I was long past better.

  "How do you manage it?" I asked as I took over gripping the coat shut around me. The broad shoulders were like planks jutting out from my neck. I could have wrapped myself in the coat twice but I felt cozy.

  "Manage what?" He motioned to the bench and sat next to me. "I'm going to wait with you until what's his name shows up."

  "How do you manage to make a girl feel like swooning just by
wrapping her in your coat?"

  He looked over with that impish grin he wore when he was feeling extra cocky. "Are you close to swooning, Suzy Q? Then my night has been a triumph after all."

  I laughed lightly. The sound of it spread out and disappeared into the dark night. All of the despair I'd been feeling about my life seemed to float off with it. My bench partner's coat was more magical than I first thought. Just feeling warm, protected and suddenly the center of someone's concern had done it. I lacked all those things with Tate.

  "You know, Quinn, it's a shame you're such a player, bouncing from one girl to the next. You would make some unbelievably lucky woman an incredible boyfriend."

  "Ouch. Don't believe all the rumors. And thank you. There I think I addressed everything you just tossed at me. I'm not that much of a player—"

  I cleared my throat. "I've been inside the dressing room when the actresses are getting ready. Let me just say, I know more personal details about you, then you probably know yourself."

  "Shit." His face dropped. He pushed his long hair behind his ear, giving me a stunning view of his perfectly chiseled profile. There was just enough bump on his nose to be extra masculine, which worked perfectly with his strong jaw. "Sometimes I wish we didn't work together. That way I could be a complete stranger, and you wouldn't already have such a bad opinion of me."

  Without thinking, I reached over and put my hand on top of his. His large, capable hand was warm. For a fleeting second, my mind dashed back to the short fantasy I was having just seconds before. Some of the heat was still nestled between my legs. Or that might just have been from sitting next to him.