Ride: Hearts Wild Series
Page 11
"Damn." He had to get his head back in the game--had to focus in on what was going on around him.
But then, if Quinn was the kind of girl he hoped she was...
"So how off the wall is Quinn?" Raph eyed Ian and his friend looked at him from the corner of his eye.
Again, Dan stepped in to fill the gap.
"Aren't you the one who can tell us? You saw what she was doing up there." He laughed.
Raph frowned. "I'm betting just about every woman up there has a vibrator. Doesn't tell me much about her."
"My wife doesn't. She doesn't need one," Dan said and the other guys groaned.
"What?" Dan asked.
"We're all horrified of the mental image of you defiling Janelle. She's a lovely woman," Ian supplied. "But to answer your question." He turned back to Raph. "Quinn is the kind of off the wall you want to stay away from."
His interest piqued. "And why is that?"
"Because my future wife will kill you if you anywhere near her," Ian said.
Raph raised an eyebrow. He wasn't worried about Zoe Andrews. But if Quinn was an open minded as everyone seemed to think she was...
The image of her cherub cheeks heating when she met his gaze filled his mind and he imagined her at his side, both of them strutting through a casino like they owned the place. She definitely fit the bill...if he could just get her to go along with the plan.
"What do you say we take a little break, gentlemen?" he asked and the other guys agreed, some shaking their empty beer bottles and muttering.
Ian stood. "Why don't you wait until I give the signal? If we all go up there and they're in the middle of some kind of demonstration..."
He didn't bother to finish but Raph saw where it was going. And to be perfectly honest? He might have paid good money for a front row seat to Quinn Andrew's one woman demonstration of her products, but if he was going to get anything done, he had to focus on the matter at hand.
And that was getting his plan in motion.
Ian gave the signal and he followed Dan and a few of the other guys to the second floor, his beer bottle in hand as he searched the crowd for Quinn. Some of the ladies had little red bags at their feet--none, it should be noted, more so than Dan's wife Janelle--but it appeared that Quinn had completely disappeared from the group.
With a frown, he made his way into the next room and Zoe stopped him.
"Please, eat some spinach dip," she said. "Also, it's nice to see you."
"Nice to see you, too." He nodded. "Where is your sister?"
Zoe's face fell and her long, thin, serious brown descended over her hazel eyes. "Why?"
"Curious." He shrugged.
Her frown deepened. "Is that so?"
But he didn't need to answer. From the archway, he spotted Quinn edging into the room, a plate full of spinach dip in her hand.
"Excuse me." He brushed past Zoe and beelined for Quinn, and though Zoe looked like she was about to argue, she apparently didn't bother.
"So," he said, a grin spreading over his face despite himself. "How is the performance going?"
She offered him half a smile. "Just fine. You looking for a pamphlet? I'm sure I have something in your price range."
"Why don't you circle your favorites and I'll have a look?" He countered and that bright red blush spread up her neck and into the apples of her cheeks.
"Did you need something?" she asked.
"Spinach dip." He took a chip from her plate, dipped it, then took a bite.
It tasted like a complete salt lick and he spun around, looking for a trashcan but not finding one. Instead, he swallowed it with a grimace.
"If you'd been polite and asked, I would have told you Janelle made that one and it's mostly just for show." She shrugged. "I guess that's what you get for being rude."
"I guess so." He raised his eyebrows, then took another chip. "So which one should I try?"
"My sister follows every recipe to the letter, so needless to say, hers is bland. Try this one." She pointed to the dip closest to her thumb and he brushed against her fingers as he grabbed a bite.
She was right. This one was cool and creamy with just the right amount of seasoning.
"Good taste," he said.
"Depends on what it is." She shrugged. "Men not so much."
"Is that why you're so attracted to me?"
"What?" she spluttered.
"Come on, it doesn't have to be a thing. Just come downstairs and play with the big boys. You can get to know me better."
She raised her eyebrows. "Is that so?"
"It is. Now what do you say?"
"I say absolutely not, but good try."
"Afraid to face me at the card table? Can't say I blame you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Even if I played cards--which I don't--I can't imagine myself being intimidated by someone like you."
The effect of this pronunciation was somewhat diminished by the fact that she had to crane her neck to look at him.
"Have it your way, doll. You don't seem the type to play anyway." He made to leave, and waited for his bait to catch.
One, two, three...
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's exactly what it sounds like. Look, don't feel bad, a lot of girls aren't good at cards."
"Oh so now this is a female thing?" She said. "I'll have you know women--"
"Woah, woah, woah." He held up his hands. "Either you want to prove me wrong or you don't. Now which is it?"
She sucked in her bottom lip, then tilted her head to the side. "Fine. One game. After that, we're done and you'll be proven wrong once and for all."
"That's all I'm asking."
For now.
About the Author
Allison Gatta is an avid writer of steamy contemporary romance, an obsessive viewer of bad television, and an occasional player of overly-complex board games. In her free time, she thinks up fun, new characters and argues with her family over sci-fi trivia. She is a firm believer that Voldemort would vanquish Darth Vader in a duel.
Allison lives in the happening city of New Haven, CT with her husband and their spunky pup, Sophie. To stay posted on what Allison’s up to, be sure to sign up for the newsletter.
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The Match Made in Honeybrook Novellas
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Allison Gatta’s steamy, paranormal romance alter ego
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Ride © 2017 Allison Bell
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