Midnight Oil: Plaything #5 Read online

  "I don't think badly of you, Quinn. Frankly, you're one of the most decent guys in the group. You like women and you like fooling around. I can't fault you for that, or I'd have to fault half the men in the world. You just happen to be extremely successful at it."

  "Huh, not sure if that makes me feel any better, but I promise you, it would be different with you, Suzy Q."

  The oversized coat shifted around me as I laughed. "I hate to sound cliché, but I bet you say that to all the girls."

  "Not true." He turned slightly to look at me. I realized I had left my hand on his and reluctantly pulled it away. "With the exception of Britney Hooper in sixth grade, I have never said that to any woman. And I meant every word of it."

  I drew the coat tighter around me and hid my smile beneath the tall collar. "Britney Hooper, eh?"

  He leaned back against the brick wall and stared out at the darkness. "Yeah, she had the cutest spray of freckles and long hair that she clipped back with little rhinestone butterflies. She broke my heart. She used to ride over to our house on her bicycle to play video games. I thought she was there to see me. Turns out she had a big crush on my older brother." He shook his head without lifting it from the wall. "I felt so cheap and used."

  I chuckled. "That must have stung. I was going to say that I felt honored to be in the same lofty group as Britney Hooper, but it sounds like she fell from grace after that."

  Quinn sat up straight, reminding me just how tall he was. "She did indeed and it was all for naught. Trey was three years older, and there was never any shortage of girls in his teenage world."

  "I've heard he's quite the businessman. Probably no shortage of women now either," I suggested.

  "There was plenty for awhile but now there is just the one. Georgie, his soulmate. She's an award winning journalist. I think he might even pop the question soon. So, you see, we Armstrongs can commit. It just takes finding the right person. And speaking of the wrong person, it seems like your ride is not coming. I'd be happy to give you a ride home."

  I was more than embarrassed that Tate had decided to just leave me sitting alone outside of work. Quinn wasn't showing pity but I was sure it was there beneath the layers of hunkiness.

  I pulled out my phone, knowing full well that Tate hadn't texted or called, but I wanted to at least give the illusion that he might have been trying to contact me to let me know he'd be late. To save face, I made up a lie and pretended there had been a text. "Actually, he says he's on his way. You go ahead, Quinn. And thanks for keeping me company." I stood up to take off the coat.

  He pushed to his feet and pulled the coat shut around me again, giving me a little tug so that I inadvertently fell against his hard chest. He didn't release me. I stayed pressed against him. Every inch of him exuded warmth, strength, confidence. I wondered how dizzying it would feel to be wrapped in his strong arms. With slow reluctance, he released me and my body peeled away from his. Heat seemed to swirl around us as we both gazed into each other's eyes for a silent few seconds.

  "You can keep the coat for now. Seeing you wrapped up in it is the best thing I've seen in a long time."

  I shrugged my thin shoulders beneath the giant coat. "Maybe I'll start a new fashion trend. Thanks again." I motioned toward his car. "You should get going. I'm sure you're tired after your performance. And Tate will be here any minute so I'm fine."

  He pointed at me. "Ah ha, so you were lying about Tate coming to pick you up."

  I blinked up at him in question. "No, really. He's coming," I said with little conviction. My cheeks heated with shame. I sighed. "How did you know?"

  "The coat. Most women wouldn't stay wrapped in another guy's coat while they were waiting for their boyfriend to pick them up. Unless, of course, he doesn't care, which makes him an even bigger asshole than I previously thought."

  "Well, this is embarrassing. Guess I need to plan my lies out better. Look, just go home, Quinn, so I can stop feeling completely humiliated and ashamed and forgotten . . . and, frankly, lost. I've been feeling so alone these past few months, I sometimes just want to hop on an eastbound train and ride the rails until I find a new existence." My hand flew to my mouth. "Wow, I'm pathetic. First I embarrass myself by getting caught in a lie and then I lay out a whole pity party spread. I'm not always this much of a downer. I'm just tired."

  "You're never a downer. In fact, when I get to work and find out my favorite food server is not working, it ruins my whole night."

  I flashed him one of those 'oh please' smiles. "As much as I would like to believe you—"

  My words fell off as he took hold of my hand. "You don't have to but it's true." Even in the shadow of the building, his eyes were a vibrant green. "Now, let me give you a ride home because I'm not leaving you here alone. Another reason for me to hate what's his name. How dare he leave you sitting in the dark by yourself."

  "Trust me, Quinn, you don't need to list reasons out loud for my sake. I've got a list a mile long. Anyhow, I'm not alone." I gazed up at him. "I'm with the Red Knight. And on that declaration—yes, a ride home would be nice."

  Five

  Quinn

  My offer to give Suzy a ride had started out being one of pure chivalry. She was sitting alone outside a dark building, waiting for a ride that didn't seem to be coming. But just a few minutes driving with her, chatting about nothing in particular, listening to her lyrical laugh and watching her smooth the bottom of her dress down toward her knees a hundred times, I questioned my first motive of chivalry. Was I just doing the decent thing, or was I trying to find a way to spend more time alone with the woman who had caught my attention from the moment the boss first introduced us. I'd been so thrown off by my initial reaction to Suzy that I'd acted the idiot and jumped right into the Suzy Q song. For the past six months, I'd had to remind myself that she was with someone else but that hadn't kept me from making a valiant effort to flirt with her.

  "Turn right here. I forgot to ask," she said after she pointed to the corner near her house, "how was Archer? Did he hurt his leg when he stumbled?" She laughed lightly. "By the way what a scare you gave the group of women who were out celebrating a thirtieth birthday. They were ready to race out onto the field and administer first aid to the knight. Can't believe you stayed in the saddle with all that gear."

  "That was more because Archer recovered fast enough to not dump me on the ground. Nick, the head horse trainer, walked him around for awhile. He didn't notice any lameness, but I think Archie earned himself a little well deserved R and R."

  Suzy pointed ahead. "This is humiliating to say but it's the ramshackle little green house on the north side of the street. It's just a rental. I'm hoping to find something nicer—"

  I put my hand on her arm. "Don't, Suzy. I know you work hard and cost of living is high." I pulled up to the curb and parked behind a red truck sitting in front of their house. Suzy's dented little car was parked in the driveway. A light was on in the front room.

  "That's great," she said. "He's just sitting at home watching television and he still forgot me. Doesn't that make me feel special. Hopefully, it just means he's passed out from too much—" Her voice trailed off as the front door opened and a woman walked out onto the crumbling stoop. The porch light was broken but we could still see that she was carrying her high heeled shoes in her hand as she tiptoed over the dead grass.

  My Porsche caught her attention. The woman completely ignored Suzy sitting in the passenger seat as she tucked her hair behind her ear and flashed me a smile before climbing into the truck and driving away.

  We sat in awkward silence for a few seconds.

  "Guess I know why he forgot to pick me up." There was no waver in her tone. "I wonder how long he's been seeing her." she said quietly.

  "Knew that guy was a fuckface the second I met him." I looked over at her but she stared straight ahead. "I'd be glad to go inside and throw that jerk out on his ass. In fact, I wouldn't just be glad, I'd be over the moon happy to do it."

  Suzy sho
ok her head. "No, he's not worth the effort. Guess I'm not worth the effort either."

  "Not true. Come home with me tonight." I rushed to explain myself before she could look askance at my offer. "I've got a spare bedroom . . . and a giant soak tub and a stocked wet bar. You could sit in a hot bubble bath, sip a glass of wine and forget all about the asshole inside that house."

  She breathed in a long, deep breath. "Sounds better than sleeping on a park bench or, for that matter, inside that crappy little house with—what did you call him—fuckface?"

  "Among other things," I admitted.

  She nodded weakly. There was the slightest smile on her lips, but I knew, deep down, she was hurting. "I like fuckface. It suits him." She looked over at me. "Considering I haven't had a hot bubble bath since I was living with my parents, I'll take you up on your generous offer. But only for tonight. I'm just going to push all this shit out of my head for one night and pretend I'm in a different life altogether. Then tomorrow I'll figure out how to get that beer guzzling cockroach out of my house."

  Six

  Suzy

  Since Quinn drove an expensive car, I expected him to have a nice place, but, in my mind, a nice place was a two to three bedroom house with a cute front yard of flowers and grass and a brick chimney. I might have heard tidbits about his beautiful house from those in the know, namely coworkers who had dated him, but I never expected a modern architectural masterpiece tucked in the side of a hill with full length windows overlooking the city.

  As the car climbed the long, snaky driveway, I glanced over at Quinn. "This is all starting to feel surreal, like maybe I did just land in a different life. I'm sitting next to the Red Knight, who, by the way, looks just as dashing without the armor, and it feels like we're driving up to a castle."

  Quinn laughed. "Not exactly a castle, but trust me, after my childhood, I sometimes still have to pinch myself when I'm driving up to this place. Of course, it's all courtesy of my brother, Trey. He's always looked after me. Even when we were growing up. Our single mom had to work three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. We had a few places that made your rental house look like the aforementioned castle. Trey was sort of a big brother slash dad. He missed out on a lot of stuff because of his baby brother." It was nice to hear him talk so openly and fondly about his brother.

  A shiny black garage door lifted and Quinn pulled the car inside. There was a nice Toyota truck next to the Porsche's spot.

  "Your garage is bigger and nicer than my whole house. I've got to ask—why do you work at the dinner theater?"

  "Trey insists I work, and I'm glad he makes me. It keeps me busy and sane. He wants me to work for the Plaything Company, but I'd rather do my own thing. Plus, he's a big brother and he's kind of bossy." He climbed out and was quickly at my door to open it.

  As I lowered my leg, I brushed my tender hip against the edge of the seat and winced at the pain.

  Quinn offered me his hand. "That's the second time I've seen you scrunch up that cute little nose when something pressed against your hip. Did you hurt yourself?"

  "Yes, it's just a bruise," I said, quickly, wanting to change the subject. Not just because it was too embarrassing to tell the real story but for the next twelve hours, before the sun broke in the sky, I wanted to pretend that Tate Silva didn't exist. On the drive to Quinn's hilltop home, I searched through my brain to see if there were any clues I'd missed about the woman in the red truck. I couldn't think of any, other than the general lack of affection between us for the past few months. But that was more on my side than his. Maybe he decided to look elsewhere for that attention. That was fine by me, as long as I never had to be touched, kissed or even looked at by Tate again.

  We headed inside and entered immediately into a kitchen that was a steel, glass and stone confection. The furnishings were modern, sleek and masculine, but the thing that caught my interest the most was the view. I walked straight through a living room that was lined with soft leather couches and up to the large picture window that stretched from ceiling to floor.

  In the background, I heard Quinn moving around glasses and popping a cork. Glittering city lights stretched all the way to the coast where the luminescent glow shifted into a shadowy gray. "How far are we from the ocean?" I asked. "Can you see it during the day?" I was talking loudly so that my voice would carry to wherever Quinn was in the house.

  "Only at night." His deep voice, directly behind, caused me to startle. I spun around. He smiled as he held up a glass of wine. He had opened a beer for himself.

  I took the glass of wine. I was no wine expert but it was definitely not the bargain stuff we served at work.

  "We're about fifty miles and a few thousand feet up from the ocean in this house." He stood next to me to enjoy the view. "I can only see it when the city lights come on."

  I sipped some more wine, suddenly feeling like I needed something to dull my senses and take the edge off. "This is the good stuff, eh?" I asked.

  "To be honest, I'm not sure. Georgie, Trey's girlfriend, brought it over a few weeks ago, but she never got around to opening it."

  I lowered the glass. "I hope it's all right that I'm drinking it."

  "Sure is. Georgie would be happy to be giving her wine for a good cause. How are you doing after that unfortunate scene at your house?"

  "I'm sure it will hit me like a category five hurricane tomorrow, but I'm determined not to think about it at all tonight." I lifted my glass. "Here's to Georgie and her great taste in wine."

  "That sounds like a good plan." Quinn clinked his bottle against my glass, and we drank while watching the city below vibrate and glow.

  I was a lightweight when it came to drinking, and the wine was already relaxing me. "Hmm, I don't want to seem pushy or spoiled, but I believe there was mention of a bubble bath."

  "Absolutely. You stay right here, relax and make yourself comfortable. I'll start the bath. This is your night to be pampered, and I plan to make it unforgettable." Quinn walked up to a panel on the wall. He tapped a button and music thrummed soothingly down from overhead speakers. He disappeared down a hallway.

  I spent no more than two seconds asking myself what the hell I was doing in Quinn's house, drinking wine and waiting for a bubble bath. I couldn't count how many times I'd told myself that Quinn Armstrong was like that last piece of chocolate cake, rich, decadent and satisfying but you'd hate yourself in the morning. But tonight, I needed this sliver of fantasy. I needed to forget everything.

  My phone rang in my purse, quickly shattering my goal to forget. It seemed Tate was finished with his fun for the evening. I pulled it out, my hands shaking and my face heating with anger. I was going to tell him to move out of the house and drop dead, preferably in that order. Then the flowery scent of luxurious bubbles floated toward me from the hallway and the fragrance swept me back out of reality and into my temporary fantasy. The last thing I wanted to do was screw it up by talking to Tate. Just hearing his voice would ruin the nice wine buzz in my head and the future bubble soak. I glanced at the phone, saw his name on the screen and promptly declined the call, then turned off my phone.

  Quinn emerged from the hallway. "This way, milady. Your bubble bath awaits you."

  I followed him down the hallway. "This probably sounds weird but I feel like a little kid going down the stairs on Christmas morning. Can't believe I'm this excited about a bath. I can't believe I'm saying all this out loud. Must be the expensive wine. I've only ever had cheap wine buzzes, and they aren't all that fun."

  We reached a door. Quinn pushed it open to reveal an amazing white porcelain tub, deep and long enough to submerge myself completely. It sat in front of a large picture window with a view that matched the front windows in the living room. The geometric chrome light fixture dangling from the center of the ceiling had been dimmed to a perfect warm glow and three tall pillar candles had been lit and set on the corners of the tub. Iridescent mounds of bubbles were just starting to float up and off the surface of the water, dancing
to the music that floated out of the speakers above.

  I turned to Quinn. He looked extra heartbreaking under the dim, romantic lights. "If I don't come back out of this bathroom, tell everyone at work I died doing what I loved best, soaking in a bubble bath."

  His deep laugh only added to the amazing ambience. "I will let you soak then. Do you want another glass of wine to sip?"

  "Oh my gosh, you've got this spoiling a woman thing down to an art. But you know what, I'm already feeling pleasantly tingly from the first glass. I'm just going to submerge myself in those bubbles and get lost in a satisfying delirium."

  Quinn bowed and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I wasted no time taking off my work costume. I dropped the wide corset belt on the dressing bench and pushed the peasant blouse off my shoulders. The dress puddled at my feet. I took off my bra and pushed my panties down with just enough force to remind me of the bruise on my hip. I stepped out of the dress and walked to one of the two big mirrors over the double sink vanity. I had to hop up on tiptoes to get a clear view of my hip.

  "Holy shit," I muttered. The dark blue and purple bruise had spread over my hip and down to my upper thigh. It was far worse than I'd imagined.

  A light knock was followed by the door opening. I gasped as Quinn popped his face around the corner. He pulled it back out. "I'm so sorry," he said through the crack. "I thought you'd be in the water." Then his face peered around the door again and his gaze went straight to the bruise. "Jeezus, Suzy, what the hell happened?"

  I picked up a towel and held it in front of me. Not that it mattered since he had seen every inch of me now. "It's all right, Quinn. You can come in."

  He stepped around the door holding a silky blue robe. He had changed into jeans and a white t-shirt that fit so snugly across his chest I could see every muscle. "I was just bringing you a robe to put on after the bath." He was silent as he walked slowly toward me. I was suddenly aware of just how naked I was and just how much I wanted to live out that fantasy of being Quinn Armstrong's for one night, even if it was just for one night. It had just moved to the top of my things to do before I die list, one night of wild abandon with the Red Knight.