Love, Diamonds, and Spades

by Violet Duke

  The fact that Luke almost tripped over his own two feet reading the received text on his end shortly after was reason enough for Rylan to excuse himself. It was clear those two were dating…sort of. And it was equally clear that the pair had the strangest form of guerrilla foreplay.

  Speaking of foreplay…

  Rylan bypassed the now grinning and texting chocolatier, to head over to Luke’s lovely shop partner.

  Quinn Christiansen.

  His reaction to the woman that first day up on this rooftop had coldcocked him out of the blue. It had been beyond attraction. Far more intense. Adding her mysteriously short fuse with him to the equation somehow just made the magnetic pull ten times stronger.

  And not just for him, apparently.

  If he hadn’t felt her eyes on him for the past half hour while they’d been shooting the commercial, he’d have backed off. But he was a mere mortal man. He’d stayed away for three weeks to give her time to focus on the chocolate shop’s grand opening.

  The grand opening had been yesterday.

  Without another thought, he slid into the spot beside Quinn that Luke had just vacated.

  She took a not-at-all-subtle step away from him.

  He grinned. Yep, this was going to be fun. “Hey. It’s Quinn, right?”

  * * * * *

  GOD, THAT VOICE.

  With little more than a civil grimace, Quinn pushed out a terse, “Yep,” in response to the deep, smoky voice that had been torturing her memory for weeks.

  Rylan raised a dark eyebrow in amusement, and his glittering gaze showed he wasn’t thwarted in the least bit. “Dare I hope you’re a fan here to watch us perform?”

  She gave him her best ‘idiot’ dismissal and her no-fail testicle shrinking glance. “I don’t listen to whatever type of music this is you play.”

  Well done. She mentally patted herself on the back. Pinocchio would be proud.

  Unfortunately, it seemed the man went for that kind of thing, because his eyes darkened with interest, evidently drawn to the unintended challenge she posed. Great.

  “Really?” he replied, shrugging casually. “Huh. I could’ve sworn I saw you singing along to one of our songs during warm-ups, which could only mean that you’ve watched us on YouTube since we don’t have any albums out. My mistake.”

  He saw that? Her lips flattened and she willed the blood to stay out of her cheeks. “I’m just here to make sure things go smoothly for the video. Luke’s been a bit distracted lately.”

  An epidemic at the shop, it seemed.

  Since first seeing Rylan at Ocotillos a few weeks ago, Quinn had been having her fair share of distracted moments as well, all starring a certain too-hot-for-his-own-good musician.

  Worst of all, she was pretty sure he knew it too.

  It would certainly explain why he was still standing there despite her trying to ice him out for a good minute now. Probably amusing himself by torturing her. Bastard. Irked enough to finally steal a glance back at him—skewer-sharp glare in the chamber at the ready—she was horrified to find him peering around her instead.

  At the little blond preschooler clutching her hand.

  “Hey buddy,” he said in the perfect tone of voice that would pass a five-year-old’s bullshit meter with flying colors.

  That threw Quinn way off.

  She pulled her son closer. “He’s mine. My kid, that is.”

  “Yeah, I figured he wasn’t a rental,” replied Rylan dryly.

  With an arctic glower, she added archly, “Yes, well, I wouldn’t normally bring him to work but I don’t have a regular evening sitter; never needed one with my glamorous night life and all.”

  Studying her thoughtfully, Rylan leaned in to ask quietly, “Does that tactic work well?”

  Confused, she swung a cautious gaze at him. “What tactic?”

  “I’m sure you’re aware,” he said, his voice pitched low so her son couldn’t hear, “the big eff-off sign you have across your forehead already has neon letters and flashing lights. You really don’t have to use your single mom status to scare off the guys who are interested in you.”

  Her mouth fell open in utter astonishment.

  He leaned in even more, his lips now almost at her ear. “Luckily, I don’t scare easy. And sugar, you bet I’m interested.”

  Now, she was officially tongue-tied.

  Of course, the aggravating man had to shock her even further by then kneeling down in front of her son to introduce himself properly. “Hi, I’m Rylan.” He stuck out his hand palm up for a low-five. “What’s your name, big guy?”

  “Cooper,” answered the young boy, giggling delightedly as his hand tried over and over to slap Rylan’s now playfully evasive hand.

  “Cool name. Played with a guitar guy with the same name once.” Rylan laughed heartily when Cooper finally managed to smack his open palm. “Aw, you got me! Rematch!”

  Still thunderstruck silent, Quinn just stared at the now cackling duo.

  “So Coop, I saw you bopping around to our music. You’ve got good taste. Since your mom is busy working, why don’t you ask her if you can check out our instruments on stage?”

  “COOL!” Cooper turned his pleading blue eyes to Quinn. “Can I, mommy? Please?”

  She shook off her confounded stupor and managed to nod. “Sure, munchkin. Go have fun. Don’t break anything.” A Texas-sized lump formed in her throat when she saw the rest of the band welcome her son with warm hellos and knuckle-bumps. He was given a new band cap to wear and a pair of drumsticks to bang out some beats.

  His squeals of delight filled the air.

  Emotions all amuck now, Quinn spent the next ten minutes watching Cooper have a blast with Rylan and the band. Seeing the handsome singer really truly hang out with her son put a titanic crack in the ice blockade she had around her heart. The few men she’d dated in the past had just patted Cooper on the head and asked none too rudely when his bedtime was. Sadder still, they were all princes compared to the jackass noted as Coop’s father on his birth certificate.

  But Rylan... He was genuinely enjoying spending time with her son, laughing and teaching him how to strum a guitar while wailing into the muted mic.

  It was amazing. In an alternate universe sort of way.

  Maybe that’s what allowed the uncharacteristic chortle to escape her when she heard the guys ask Cooper what his favorite song was. The answer, as she knew it would be, was the song from a Disney show he watched religiously.

  Quinn’s humor quickly turned to complete shock, however, when the guys nodded and began strumming out the cotton candy pop tune she’d heard far too many times over months of DVR replays. The two older members of the group, the ones wearing wedding rings, each gave Cooper a crinkly-eyed smile before starting to hum a raspy, masculine rendition of the harmony just as Rylan started singing a rocked-out version of the lyrics.

  The random folks hanging out on the rooftop deck immediately started murmuring their surprised approval and gathering around to listen.

  Elated, Cooper began bouncing around and singing along as well.

  When Rylan kneeled down to share his mic with Coop so they could wail out the lyrics in unison, Quinn felt irrational moisture springing to her eyes.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, grabbing at a nearby chair, “not another musician.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  QUINN LOOKED UP as she heard footsteps approaching her in the alley between Desert Confections and Ocotillos.

  “Woman, why the hell are you out here alone?” growled Rylan. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is?”

  She looked around at the mini parking lot that overlooked the sunny town square on one side and a senior center on the other. “Yes, clearly, I’m living on the edge,” she replied wryly, tossing the shop trash bags in the dumpster.

  He glanced up and down the alley once more and strangely, she was touched by his fierce concern, unused to anyone actually fussing over her like this. “I’m fine, Rylan, really.
I only come out here during the daytime, and I always check the security cameras before I do. I’d never put myself at risk and leave my son without a mother.”

  He nodded then, noticeably eased by that info.

  “Are you here to see Luke?”

  “Nope. I’m actually here to see you. I wanted to set a couple of things straight.”

  She frowned. “Okay.”

  With one more suspicious look up and down the brightly lit alley, he grabbed the door handle back into Desert Confections and held the door open for her. “After you.”

  Quinn had to fight back a smile. He was still worrying over her.

  It was…nice.

  The second they walked into the office, he turned and pinned her with a look. “You’ve been sentencing me for crimes I haven’t committed, sweetheart. So we’re clear, I am not nor have I ever been a player.”

  Well, that was direct.

  “I haven’t been sentencing you.” Just doing my best to ignore you. “I don’t care how many women you fool around with.”

  “I care how many women you think I’ve been sleeping with. Because that number lately is zero. Has been for a while. The college girl you saw me with outside of Ocotillos is my cousin. She overheard some frat guys on campus calling her fat and she was feeling bad so I gave her a hug while she cried her eyes out.”

  Oh no. Quinn had a really bad feeling she was going to be eating crow soon.

  “The waitress you saw in this alley?” he continued, gruffly. “Yes, she’s a little handsy, but she’s also not at all into me. How do I know? Because she was attacking my face with kisses to thank me for the back stage passes I was able to get from one of my buddies…for her girlfriend’s favorite band.”

  Yep. A big ole heaping pile of crow was flapping into her horizon.

  And clearly, he knew it too. His brow rose up to dare her to continue to be judge, jury, and executioner for his trial.

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked instead, wondering where in the heck he was getting his intel…and if she would in fact have to strangle Luke any time soon for having a big, yapping mouth. Because if so, she was really going to need to get some chocolatiering lessons first.

  “Welcome to small town express, sugar. The walls, trees, and floors here have not just ears, but big ole mouths as well.” He made sure she was looking him right in the eye when he repeated, “So like I said, I’m not a player.”

  “What about the band bunnies?” she countered, a sore spot for her ego she didn’t like to think about. “They were all over you. And you were eating it up. Signing their bodies…”

  Her ex used to get off on doing that.

  Rylan sighed. “That has never happened before that day. Those girls were doing it for some sorority initiation scavenger hunt. One of them, I recognized. She’s been a fan for years and she kept going on about how their team was behind by so many points. I felt bad. So I signed one of their hips—not my fan’s.” He grimaced at the memory. “I’m sure you don’t believe me but I’ve really tried not to think about that incident since.”

  She actually did believe him.

  “Honestly, the guys and I hardly get requests for autographs. Mostly just girls wanting to party. And I’m way too old for that. As a rule, we never hook up with groupies. My drummer is probably the only one who isn’t uncomfortable with the bunny attention; he kind of digs it. The other two guys, Tucker and Levi are both married. Me, I’ve never liked getting treated like a piece of meat.”

  That one was harder for her to believe. Not because she thought he was lying, but because history told her otherwise. “So you’re saying if a bunch of your hottest fan girls stripped and wanted a group thing, you’d turn them down?” Yeah, highly doubtful.

  She watched an array of reactions pass over his face: frustration, incredulity, a touch of amused disbelief, but mostly, he just looked offended. “You do realize I’m just a local musician, right? I don’t have wild parties and groupies throwing their panties at me. I have fans, yes, but it’s nothing like what you’re imagining.”

  “I know for a fact that even local musicians get caught up in the whole fan orgy thing.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You do, do you? Anyone I know?” The question was casual, but his hard gaze was anything but.

  “Don’t switch the subject to me,” she said quickly. “You say you’re just a local musician but I’ve heard you hang out with some bigger musicians when they’re in town for concerts, and you’ve even opened for a few.”

  A slow grin overtook his features. “Been reading up on me, sweetheart?”

  She felt her cheeks burn. “The town talks,” she evaded. It was the truth, everyone in town was completely nosy, but, in an entirely bizarre way. They didn’t gossip about the things she expected them to. For instance, they seemed to care a whole heck of a lot more about his weekly poker game than anything else, even his celebrity connections.

  Thankfully, Rylan seemed to take her explanation at face value, and instead of teasing her into confessing that she may have googled him a little bit, he leaned against the wall and shrugged. “If you have questions, ask me. I’m an open book. A pretty dull book at that, if you’d let your imagination calm down for a bit to really take a closer look.”

  Ha! The man was anything but dull. Studying him, she saw the sincerity in his expression and instantly, a thousand questions poised for fire on her lips. She chose the one that was gnawing at her gut the most.

  “Has a fan ever wanted to have sex with you?”

  He thought about that for a second. “No. But to clarify, I’m thinking you’re asking if a fan asked to have sex with me as purely a fan, not a woman looking to hook up, am I right?”

  She frowned. “What’s the difference?”

  “I meet a lot of women at Ocotillos who want to have sex, but not necessarily because they’re fans, or even because I’m a musician.”

  Arrogant donkey’s tail.

  When his lips twitched to the side, she realized she’d muttered her G-rated musings out loud.

  “I try not to use curse words since Cooper likes to copy everything I say,” she defended, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

  “Wasn’t judging,” he replied back, eyes still laughing. “And while I probably am a donkey’s tail, my momma would slap me silly if I were arrogant.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You basically just told me you have women coming on to you because you’re hot, and not because you’re a musician.”

  His brows lowered tiredly. “No, I said I meet a lot of women who want to have sex. Most of them have beer goggles on by the time the guys and I are done with our set that they tend to be almost blind to looks. Some even blind to wedding rings.”

  The last statement came out so disgruntled, Quinn started in surprise. “The two married guys in your band…they’ve cheated on their wives?”

  “Hell no.” His expression turned fierce. “They wouldn’t still be in my band if they did. And again, you’ve twisted my words to shine the light only on the male half of the equation. Some of these women just want to get laid. Doesn’t mean the guys and I take what they’re offering.”

  So different from her ex and his friends.

  “You must have met some real class acts to have such a low opinion of me and the guys,” he groused, again with that hard edge to his voice that made him sound almost…possessive.

  “Back in the day,” she replied. “I guess it’s colored my view of musicians a little.” Looking up at him, she added earnestly, “But I don’t have a low opinion of you and the guys. Honest. You were all great with Cooper, and you helped so much with our Desert Confections video.” It was the absolute truth. Even with her automatic gut-roiling reaction to musicians, a part of her had recognized every guy in the band as good men—down to earth, hard-working and always kind to others. Suddenly, she felt ashamed for judging them at all, even Rylan with his fluffle of women.

  “What in God’s name is a fluffle?” he asked
sounding equal parts exasperated and amused.

  Dammit! She needed to get her lips wired shut. “A fluffle…that’s what they call a group of rabbits in Canada.”

  “Ah, a fluffle as in a fluffle of band bunnies.” Now all the frustration was overtaken by the amusement. “I think I’m a little flattered that you took the time to research obscure Canadian words to beef up your case against me.”

  “I didn’t,” she replied swiftly. “I just...know a lot of random things.”

  He gave her a knowing grin. “Okay, Miss Trivial Pursuit. I actually need to get back to work, but if you think of more questions for me, here’s my number.” He dropped his business card on the counter. “That’s my personal cell phone so don’t go selling it to the harem—I mean fluffle—of women who we both know would just scratch your eyes out for it. Just saying. I don’t want to start a stampede in town or nothing.”

  “Fine, fine,” she huffed. “I get it. I jumped to conclusions about the groupie thing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  She glowered at him, mostly because she was pretty sure this was jealousy she was feeling itching at the tips of her fingers.

  “Retract your claws, hellcat. I meant there are a few band bunnies who would do all that you’ve seen and imagined. But I have absolutely no desire to get caught up in that. Not one bit.” He ran his eyes over her face. “Do you believe me?”

  Why was it so easy to trust this man? “Yes,” she admitted, sounding confused over that even to herself.

  “Not that I don’t find the jealousy thing pretty darn cute.”

  She glared at him. No one ever called her cute. Why on earth was she liking it?

  “Okay, sugar, now I really need to head out. Errands to run. You going to be sticking around here for a bit longer? Say a few more minutes?”

  “Yes.” She studied him suspiciously. “Why?”

  “I’m having a grand opening present delivered in a bit.”

  “You got me a gift?” Besides Luke and her sister, no one ever got her gifts.

  “Yep. I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it,” he said confidently as he headed out of the shop. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”