There was a flurry of confusion when Kellie protested giving her rental keys over to a guy dressed as a jester—it was a rental, but still… When she tried to gather her suitcase, Quinn hoisted it, along with her carry-on. And he neither groaned, nor moaned—both of which Kellie had done with every step between the baggage claim and the car rental pickup.
Huh.
“There. You. Are!”
Kellie’s brain had hardly processed the screech when she was snapped into an embrace by a bear trap.
“I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve got a table already in Masuku, and Perry”—Brae waved in the direction of a smarmy-looking concierge with an ineffectual bald-spot camouflage hairstyle, just visible inside the front door—“he can hang on to your bags for you. We have so much to catch up on!”
As Brae shot an appraising glance at Quinn, Kellie was dragged toward the darkened maw of a giant Japanese Kabuki mask.
…
Quinn dropped Kellie’s bags with the sleazeball behind the desk and delivered his best “you might be slime, but I’m a way bigger badass than you, so don’t fuck with my shit” glare, and strode after Kellie and her scary friend into the sushi bar.
Kellie looked back at him, the deer-in-the headlights thing turned up to eleven.
He sent her a “Well, darlin’, she’s your friend. I’m just the man candy” shrug. If only his parents could be here for this.
The sushi bar was packed with people—mostly women—wearing name-tag-bearing lanyards and decked out in buttons with slogans ranging from corny to embarrassing.
A very tanned man, wearing a Pebble Beach golf club hat, sat in a lush corner booth playing with his phone.
“Honey, look who I found.”
Honey jerked out of his i-Trance and glanced up, irritation quickly replaced with a capped-toothed smile. He dutifully stood and held out his arms to Kellie as she held out a hand to him.
“Hi, I’m Kellie,” she said, as he said, “I’m Toby Wagner” and tried to recover from almost hugging someone who wanted to shake hands.
“Well, of course you are, honey, we all know that.” The friend turned to Quinn with an indulgent eye roll.
Quinn smiled, although he didn’t know who Toby was, other than what Kellie had told him. The man was an actor. Apparently Quinn lived under a rock.
“And this is, uh, my boyfriend,” Kellie said, motioning toward Quinn. “Quinn. Um, Quinn—”
“Hi.” Quinn cut her off in time to rescue her from the obvious—only to him, hopefully—snafu that she’d forgotten his last name. “I’m Quinn Anderson. Toby, nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you. And you”—he turned to the friend he also knew nothing about—“wow. You’re the big writer, huh? Congratulations on your success. Kellie’s so proud of you. And your book, I understand it’s a very sweet rom—”
His last word was cut off when he felt a heel dig into his instep.
The horrified expression on the friend’s face told him that her book was not to be considered sweet. Why was that bad?
“Anyway,” he amended, “I hear it’s really good.” Hopefully “good” was okay.
Apparently it was, because she smiled and gave a fake-humble wave. “Thanks.”
By the time they’d settled around the table, Toby had refocused on his Twitter account, laughing at something and thumb-typing furiously.
“Quinn, huh? Nice to meet you,” the friend…Bree? Brenda? said. As they passed around menus, she said, “Kellie, you’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Do tell.”
Kellie shrugged. “Oh, well…”
“Come on, sister. Tell Brae everything.” Brae—like the sound a donkey makes—leered at Quinn. “How did you meet?”
Quinn put his arm around Kellie. She fit nicely against him, even as she stiffened.
Shit. They hadn’t discussed dating history.
But Kellie recovered nicely and even relaxed a little as she said, “Quinn owns a motorcycle shop, and I was doing some online research for a character. I emailed him with some questions, and one thing led to another…”
Nice. The lady thought well on her feet. And felt great next to him, the curve of her hip firm by his thigh.
“Oh, how wild, Kiddie Book Lady! Dating the local biker. How do the moms-who-lunch like that?” Dame Hee Haw told Quinn, “That’s what we call the stuck-up women on the neighborhood revitalization committee.” Brae went on, “But wait. When did Smyrna Springs get a bike shop?”
“It’s been a long-distance relationship until now,” Kellie said. “Quinn lives here in Las Vegas.”
“Omigod, you’re kidding. You just met? Like here? In person for the first time? Honey, are you listening to this?” She hit Toby on the arm and he roused himself from his phone long enough to smile and nod.
But then Brae’s eyes opened wide, and she said, “Holy shit. You’re breaking your rule.”
Kellie flinched. “What?”
“Your no-long-distance rule. After that guy in college, I thought you swore off—”
Kellie’s laugh this time sounded forced. “Oh, well, yeah. But you know…for the right guy…”
“This little romance is so cute.”
Wait. If Quinn and Kellie’s fake real romance was cute, why was it bad for Donkey Kongette’s fictional romance to be sweet?
He sighed and Toby, in a rare human interaction, rolled his eyes sympathetically before returning to his e-friends.
“Tell me more. How have you been doing it?”
“What do you mean?” Quinn asked. Missionary? Doggy style? Reverse—
“Skype, email, Snapchat, Twitter, Facebook Messenger, what?”
“The telephone.” Kellie opened a menu, clearly ready to change the subject. “I’m starved. Quinn, what kind of sushi do you like?”
The waiter took drink orders and promised to return.
“What do you like?” Quinn asked Kellie, while Brae tried to engage Toby in a discussion of the menu on the other side of the table.
“I’m not an expert…”
“Spicy okay?”
“The spicier the better.”
A woman after his own heart. Well. For the next couple of hours, anyway. Too bad. He wouldn’t mind getting to know her a little better. Especially without the friend from hell. Kellie’s buddy gave enemies a good name. Talk about insecure…
But the waiter was…waiting for him now. “We’ll have some uni and inari nigiri and the unagi roll.”
Kellie gaped at him.
“What?”
“All I know how to order is a California roll.”
He smiled. “That’s not on the menu.”
“I know,” she said, but it sounded like, “Ah noooo.” God, she was cute. Which was okay, right? Not sweet.
“How do you know so much about sushi? I mean—” She looked down at his tattooed arm, then away, smiling ruefully. “I took you for the steak-and-potatoes type,” she admitted.
He supposed she would. Which was fine, since he’d mostly left his fancy sushi-ordering days behind. “I come here when my buddies from school are in town.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize you’d gone to coll—” Her embarrassed flush was visible even in the dim lighting of Masuku, one of Quinn’s favorite restaurants. “Where did you go to college?”
Quinn hesitated. He thought he’d left the chip on his shoulder behind, but suddenly, it was weighing him down. “Here and there,” was what he finally came out with.
Chapter Four
“I’m sorry,” Kellie said, embarrassed that she’d stereotyped him. “I shouldn’t have assumed. People have made assumptions about me my whole life, and it…peeves me off sometimes.”
“It’s cool,” Quinn said, pushing his sex-deity hair back from his forehead.
She got lost in his smile, which seemed to say, “It’s not only cool, but I still like you, and you’re kinda cute.” Oh, jeez.
“Did you just say ‘peeves me off’?” Brae cut in.
“Yes. Yes, I did,” Kellie said, turning to look at her.
“Kellie doesn’t swear,” Brae, ever helpful, told Quinn.
“I just try to avoid it,” she mumbled. “I was an English major. My grandma always said if you couldn’t find a nice word for something, you didn’t need to say it.” What a great start this fake date was getting off to. First, she made a fool of herself by assuming Quinn was uneducated, then she enhanced that impression by looking like a prude. Gee, maybe she could make sure there was a stick up her backside next.
Fortunately, Brae filled up the next few minutes with the story of meeting Toby when he accidentally barged into her trailer on the set of Lustful Lovers and invited her to share her perspective on how a few key scenes should be acted out.
“And things just went from there,” Brae said meaningfully.
Toby looked up from his phone and dutifully leered, then went back to his social media.
The waiter brought a half dozen plates of food that were too pretty to eat.
“Here, try this,” Quinn said, picking up something colorful, but otherwise unrecognizable, and holding it toward Kelli’s lips. His eyes followed the food, but when she opened, he transferred his scrutiny to her mouth, watching her take a bite, keeping his gaze on her lips as she chewed, then moving down in the vicinity of her throat while she swallowed, and then back to her face. He left a trail of heat everywhere he’d looked at her.
The low-cut top suddenly felt too tight.
“Did you like it?” he asked, his voice deeper than it seemed a minute ago.
She had no idea what she’d just eaten, or what it tasted like, because Quinn’s dark eyes held her captive. “Uh huh,” she said, taking a moment to lick her lips. He watched her do that, too.
“Oh, you two are so cute!” Brae cooed. “Aren’t they just so cute?”
Breaking away from Quinn’s gaze, Kellie cleared her throat. It was all for show. She had to remember that. There wouldn’t be any follow-up tasting after the raw fish was gone. No Badass Dessert on the menu.
“So. How’s engaged life?” Kellie could give as good as she got. Well, maybe not, but she could try.
“Oh, wow. Better than we ever imagined, isn’t it?” Brae leaned into Toby, nuzzling his neck. He looked up and kissed her, then went back to his phone.
“He’s working on some business,” she whispered. “He took a break after Lustful Lovers, you know…” She giggled. “For the pre-honeymoon. So now it’s time to get back on the horse. So to speak.” Another giggle.
Ye gads. Kellie tried not to think about the horse scene that she’d been unable to convince Brae to cut from her book. There was just no way two people could do what she’d written, not on horseback. Could they?
“Did they put that scene—the horse scene—in the movie?”
Quinn sat forward a little when she asked that. She elbowed him with a snort. “Figures you’d pick up on that.”
“Darlin,’ you know me so well already,” he rumbled into her ear, as Brae launched into a complicated explanation of why that scene had been rewritten for the silver screen.
A shiver ran down Kellie’s spine—one that was only partially from the vibration from Quinn’s voice along her nerve endings. She felt like she did know some things about Quinn already. He had a dirty mind—in a fun way. And he was smart—and funny. He didn’t mind that she was one giant faux pas, and he was a rebel with a clue. She found herself wanting to know more.
She wondered if she could interest him in an after-date drink once Brae and Toby went up to their room.
…
After another hour of listening to Kellie’s friend—and he was beginning to question that “friend” label—describe how her career was soooo busy, without once asking about Kellie’s own work, Quinn was ready to drag Kellie off for some nuzzling and groping.
Except then the evening would be over, and there would be no making out, or hot and heavy petting, because this wasn’t a real date. He’d enjoyed this one a lot more than many nights that included way more than heavy petting and didn’t involve conversation monopolized by self-absorbed…people.
And even though the double half of the date was excruciating, he really wanted to prolong his half of it—the part that he was spending cuddled up on a banquette with a sexy, funny writer.
Wait. Hadn’t he sworn off women? Well, he’d sworn off relationships, anyway. Casual dinners with strangers who picked him up after minor fender benders were okay.
His right hand heaved a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, Toby rose and shoved his phone into his pocket. “Babe, I’ve got an early appointment. We should hit the hay.”
“Oh! Of course!” Brae was on her feet in an instant, clinging to Toby like a barnacle with separation anxiety.
Finally. Quinn didn’t want the night to end, but he was looking forward to a few minutes alone with Kellie. He’d made up his mind to ask her out for real before she left for home. Maybe he could take her on a tour of his shop and show her some nightlife away from the strip.
Kellie smiled at him, a spark there that gave him the impression she might like to spend a little more time with him, too. Without the un-dynamic duo.
“Come on, you two. I have a surprise.” Brae actually jumped up and down and clapped, while still draped around her fiancé. It wasn’t an attractive move. “I got you a room right next to ours! Isn’t that awesome?”
Kellie wouldn’t be winning any Academy Awards for her improvisational acting, but Brae didn’t seem to notice the look of horror that crossed her face. Quinn did, however. Why wouldn’t she want to be near her friend? He couldn’t stand her, but then he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the conference—
Realization hit him upside the head with a wet slap. They’d told Brae that he was here with Kellie. Kellie had used his presence as an excuse to skip some sort of workshop that Brae was presenting on writing sensual scenes with a natural bent—emphasis on bent. She didn’t want to leave Quinn alone in the room all weekend, she told Brae over dinner, so she’d have to pick and choose which events she attended.
“Well, come on. Let’s go get your stuff, and we’ll walk up together.”
Quinn took Kellie’s hand and pulled her toward him. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent as he whispered, “We’ll work this out. Just play along.”
She smiled, giving trust that he wasn’t sure he deserved. He hoped he didn’t screw this up for her. For some reason, it was really important to her to impress this friend. And it was becoming important to him to impress Kellie.
Perry, the slimy concierge, assured the ladies that Kellie’s bags had been taken to their room.
The ride to the top floor of the hotel was long and excruciating—because Quinn and Kellie were treated to the Brae and Toby lovefest for all twenty-nine floors. Pretty impressive that Toby could grope with one hand and text with the other.
And since there was so much gross lovey-dovey happening on one side of the elevator, Quinn felt like he should engage Kellie in something on their side. At least they wouldn’t be standing there staring at two grown people making out like teenagers in a giant glass tube.
So he backed her against the glass and looked down at her. Let them think he was going for the several-dozen-feet-high club. “You having fun?” he murmured. Her hands rested at his waist, probably to hold him at an appropriate distance, but it felt more like she was keeping him close.
She snorted softly. “It’s been an interesting date, that’s for sure.” But it was said with a smile.
“Yeah. For me, too.” And he meant it. Both the weirdness of spending the evening listening to one egomaniac ramble about herself while the other ignored everyone else, and the pleasure of meeting this sweet, sexy, smart woman. How about that? She was both vixen and nice girl. A dangerous combination, and yet…
“Sorry you can’t escape right away,” she said softly, looking at his chest. Her hands tightened fractionally on him—was that because the elevato
r had lurched, or because she wasn’t really sorry that he couldn’t leave?
“I’m not,” he told her. And he meant it. “I don’t suppose you—”
“Oh, here we are.” Brae dragged Toby behind her as the elevator doors slid open on their floor. “Come on, you two.” She pulled a key card from her little purse and handed it to Quinn. “You guys have a great night. I hope our snoring doesn’t keep you up too late.” She winked and elbowed Kellie, who gave a weak smile in response.
Quinn slid the key card into the slot to open the door. He held it open for Kellie and followed her in, while Brae and Toby called good-night from three feet away.
The door swung closed behind them on a nice, standard hotel room with a postcard view of Las Vegas.
“So,” he said, as Kellie turned to him. “What do you want to do now? Poker? Strip poker? Listen to Buddy Holly tunes?”
…
Kellie was trying to figure out how to politely excuse Quinn for the night without sinking to the floor, wrapping herself around his knees, and begging him to stay and hang out with her when the first sex sounds came through the hotel walls.
They were not soft, gentle gasps of pleasure. No, these were groans and moans worthy of the Haunted Mansion at Disney World.
She was mortified. Here was this nice guy—a complete stranger who had sacrificed his entire evening to do her a favor—and he was trapped in a hotel room listening to people have sex. The fact that it was people she knew made it so much more horrifying.
So, this was weird. What now? “I guess they’re busy enough—you could probably escape, if you want.”
But then he gave that grin—a grin she bet had gotten Quinn into, and out of, an awful lot of trouble in his youth—and said, “No way. I bet we can have louder, better sex.”
Her whole body flushed at the thought, completely on board with the idea, but her brain was still engaged enough to recognize that she barely knew this man.
Looking right into her eyes, he let out a bellow like a wounded bull. This was followed by a deep, rumbling, “Oh, Kellie, baby. I have been waiting for this forever.”
She nearly choked on the giggles that erupted.
Accidentally in Love With the Biker (What Happens in Vegas) Page 3