“Quit being such bear.” Dax kept his hands on her neck. Either he didn’t notice his brother’s possessive voice or he didn’t care. “I was massaging the tension from her neck.”
“Don’t.” Reed’s warning shot out.
She didn’t want to see the two brothers fighting because of her. “It’s no big deal, Reed.” Backing away, she tucked the manual to her side. Guilt weighted her body down. She’d dated Dax and slept with his brother. She needed to clear up the mess and confusion, just not at this moment. “I really need to talk to you, Dax. Can we meet later?”
Reed’s eyes widened and his chin tucked in. He shook his head. He didn’t want her talking to his brother about them.
Why? Because he didn’t want anyone to know about them? Or because he didn’t want his brother upset?
“How about drinks?” Dax used his sexy-charming tone, a tone that must’ve worked on tons of women. Not her.
She glanced at Reed begging for assistance. She didn’t know his brother’s entire story, and she didn’t know what to say about her and Reed.
“No drinks.” Reed’s expression firmed and he stepped farther into the small living room. “No dating. No Quinn.”
Dax yanked his hands off her, and spun around to glare at his big brother.
She got queasy. She didn’t enjoy being fought over. She did love how Reed defended her. “No fighting, boys.”
“No worries.” Reed sent a short smile that was supposed to assure. It didn’t. “We’re going to have a chat.”
About her.
“You have a class. You should go.” He pointed at the door.
Dax’s gaze widened, staring between the two of them, possibly putting everything together. Putting them together.
Her concern doubled. “Are you sure?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. She was already late. “I really think I should stay. Talk to—”
“Go. I’ll handle this.” Reed’s confident tone told her the two brothers needed to work this out between them. He was protecting her. Her being present wouldn’t help the situation. She’d explain to Dax later.
Reed was sure he could handle things, and she was sure about him.
Chapter Nineteen
“What the hell?” Dax resembled an upset child. “Why’d you scare Quinn off with your surly attitude?”
Jealousy pumped through Reed. His brother had had his hands on Quinn. He couldn’t stand by and watch.
His brother stalked toward him. “She was about to say yes to a date.”
“No, she wasn’t, Dax the Pretender.” Reed sounded absolute, even though inside he trembled. This conversation was not going to be easy, especially since he didn’t know how Quinn felt about him.
His brother stepped into his space. “How would you know, brother? You haven’t been around a woman since the stone age.”
The insult sliced through his midsection. His brother didn’t know about his relationship with Quinn.
Could he qualify what they had a relationship? He wanted to. Did she? They’d only known each other days and made love four times. He’d been wrong about Elizabeth loving him. She hadn’t. She only wanted to use him and his celebrity. He could be wrong about Quinn.
Even if he was wrong, Quinn deserved more than a one-sided flirtation with his brother. “You were just with your ex, and now you’re sniffing around Quinn.”
“Me and my ex are finished.” How many times had Dax made the pronouncement? “And Quinn is special.”
Temper crashed into agreement in Reed’s veins. She was special. “You can’t use her to get over your ex.” He wouldn’t allow it.
“You’re jealous.” Dax’s expression turned contemplative. His gaze flashed, as if a light had been a clicked on. “She eyed you like she wanted to strip the towel off of you, bro.”
Reed’s lust stirred. He would’ve loved for Quinn to undress him and have her way. When he’d walked out of the bathroom and heard her voice he’d been drawn to her, hoping she’d changed her mind about teaching class and wanting to spend the day with him.
Until he’d noticed his brother’s hands on her.
Tugging at the towel, he pivoted away, wanting to get dressed before having a serious conversation. “Let me get dressed and we can talk.”
“What’s going on between you two?” Dax grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “You two have had sex!”
Horror drained the blood from Reed’s head. He couldn’t believe he was so transparent. “No.” He jerked the hand holding him off. Because they hadn’t only had sex. They’d made love, at least on his side.
“Don’t deny it, bro.” A knowing expression smeared across Dax’s face. A smarminess.
Reed braced himself for his brother’s smack talk.
“You had sex with Quinn.” His brother’s grin reminded him of high school and talking about whose pants they’d gotten into at a dance. “Was she good?”
The questions were gnats at his ear. The buzzing stung, and he reacted. He took a wild swing at his brother. His knuckles connected with his brother’s cheek, and Dax flew onto the couch and flopped back against the cushions. He grabbed his cheek.
“Sorry.” Reed was the older brother and needed to help, not hurt his brother. The talk was supposed to be calm and rational, not hormones and jealousy.
“Oh, man.” Dax rubbed his cheek. A teasing twinkle returned to his eyes. He didn’t appear upset about the situation. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Shut up.” Reed knew he had it bad. He didn’t need it pointed out.
His brother shook his head. “I can’t believe my big brother has really fallen hard.”
Sinking onto the couch, he held his head in his hands. His heart pounded with the gravity of his fall. He’d fallen in love with Quinn, and yet, she’d said letting his brother massage her neck was no big deal. As if having another man’s hands on her was okay. What did that mean for their relationship, moving forward? Did she have it bad for him?
* * *
Quinn tried to explain the problem to the stereo technician on the phone at lunch during the day. How the music kept stopping and the wires were loose. When he asked her to get the model number, she pulled the manual from where she’d left it on the counter. Loose white pages fluttered to the ground.
After providing the information and scheduling a service call, she hung up the phone and picked up the papers.
Her name was penciled at the top.
For Quinn.
Followed by staff lines with handwritten notations of chords and keys she couldn’t read. But she knew enough to know this was a song. Her soul hummed to the music. Reed had composed a song for her. She scoured the pages. Words, beautiful and lyrical poetry sang to her. He wrote of loss and renewed hope. Of dreams for the future. He spoke of desire and forever and the hold on his heart.
Her! She squealed inside.
An inner tune thrummed in her bloodstream. This was the most beautiful thing she’d ever read. Parts seemed familiar. He must’ve said them to her during one of their passionate lovemaking sessions. This song was his declaration.
Her happiness overflowed. Joy spread through her body, creating warmth and happiness. Their love was mutual. They might not have spoken the words, yet she sensed his emotions in the song. Felt his love.
Hugging herself, she tapped her toes in excitement. She couldn’t wait to see him, to share her love for him. With him.
She frowned. He’d taken care of speaking to his brother for her, and she wanted to do something for him. To show her love and her belief in him.
Glancing at the papers she held in her hands, a frizzle went up her spine. The song was amazing. Would he take her word for it, or would an expert opinion be better? He’d written the song for her. She could prove her support for him by sending the song to a music producer friend, and if he loved it, tell Reed. If the music producer didn’t like the song, which she found impossible to comprehend, Reed would never know.
She could do this for him. To s
upport him and show she believed in him. To give him a little push. To help him achieve dreams of a musical career.
Scanning the pages, she composed a quick email. She had connections in the music industry in New York. She understood his fear of performing in front of audiences, but his music needed to be heard. She attached the song, her song, to the email.
And pushed send.
* * *
Reed scoured the top of the coffee table, searching for his sheet music. While working on a construction job most of the day, he’d made notations of changes he wanted to make to the chorus of Quinn’s song. He still needed a good title. For Quinn didn’t express what he wanted to say.
The stereo manual was gone. No one had been in is apartment since his brother left this morning. Picking up his cell phone, he called his brother. “When you were here this morning, did you see sheet music laying around?”
“Musical sheet music?” Dax sounded stunned, so Izzy must not have shared the gossip Reed was playing and composing again.
Swallowing, he took another small step in his recovery and admitted the truth. “Yes.”
“I thought those were random scribblings.”
“So, you saw my song?” Pulling information from his brother resembled pulling tiny, rusty nails out of recycled wood.
“You’re writing music again?”
He’d tried to hide the evidence when he’d strutted into his apartment and found Dax cooking. One small step led to bigger ones. Reed’s physical recovery had gone the same way. “Yes.”
“Wow! Quinn’s really done a number on you.” Was that disgust or envy in his tone?
Reed didn’t care. He loved Quinn and his entire world would know soon enough. “If by a number you mean she’s good for me, then yes. Yes, she is good for me.” Everything inside him lightened at sharing his emotions. “I’m hearing music in my head again. I’m composing.”
“You’re doing more than dancing with Quinn.” If a voice could be suggestively wiggling eyebrows, Dax’s was.
Reed didn’t want to deal with his brother’s immaturity. He wanted answers. “I shoved the sheets into a manual this morning.”
“A stereo manual?”
Niggles of anxiety worked their way through him. How would his brother know the specifics? “Yes. Why?”
The line went silent.
His lungs constricted. He hadn’t made a copy. What if the sheets were lost?
Sucking in a breath, he couldn’t get enough air. Terror at someone else finding the musical sheets screamed inside him. He wasn’t ready for anyone to see his latest attempt at writing and making music. What if what he thought was good was actually terrible?
His temples pounded out a beat of tension. “Why, Dax?”
“Because a stereo manual is what Quinn came by to pick up this morning.”
The pounding in Reed’s temples clashed together like cymbals on both sides of his head. The noise shattered in his chest. He wasn’t ready to share his feelings with Quinn. And he certainly didn’t want her learning of his love by reading sheet music. He’d imagined a candlelit dinner, maybe at his house, a fire in the fireplace. Romantic and cozy.
And together.
He didn’t want her finding the sheet music and reading the lyrics alone. He wanted to watch her expression as he played the melody and sang the words. He wanted to experience her reaction and hopefully the way she expressed her love in return.
Chapter Twenty
Quinn’s phone buzzed with another text from Dax: Did you need the stereo manual this morning because it’s broken? If so, did you need my help?
She responded with a quick no before her thumb accidently scrolled through his earlier text from this morning. His poetic words jumped out.
Words sounding vaguely familiar.
She tapped her phone against the counter. Why would Dax’s words be familiar? Why would he be asking to help with the stereo? She’d picked up the manual from Reed’s apartment this morning, while Dax was there. He’d seen her take the manual, so he must’ve surmised she had a problem.
Flipping through the pages, she stopped at the sheet music tucked inside. Read the lyrics. Spotted Dax’s earlier text and read his words.
Words identical to the lyrics on Reed’s music sheet.
Shock reverberated in her body, zinging around her ribs and up her spine. How was that possible? Dax sometimes sounded like Reed through his texts, but to come up with the same thing word for word would be impossible. Maybe they’d worked together on the song. Except Reed was the only composer.
Her mind swirled with other possibilities, except for the one obvious one. The one option she didn’t want to believe. The brothers wouldn’t be so cruel. Would they?
Her heart throbbed a beat of its own. A hurt, angry, foolish beat. A beat so off-rhythm she was surprised she didn’t pass out. The two brothers had tricked her. Things started to add up into the complete equation.
From Dax’s sweet words the first night when she’d stood by the window, to his poetic texts—all had been written by Reed. Even though Dax was a handsome guy, it was the words that wooed her. Reed’s words. Why would he do such a thing?
He’d been quiet in the beginning. Not exactly shy, but withdrawn. Afraid to talk to her and other people. Recently he’d confided so many things to her, shared his past. A steam of confusion clouded her judgment. Why wouldn’t he confess this happened and stop?
The steam billowed into temper. She’d commented on how Dax could be poetic and lyrical, resembling a composer one minute and short and to the point the next. She’d recognized something was odd, giving Reed the perfect opportunity to tell her. He hadn’t.
With his reticence to be social, she could sort of forgive him in the beginning. But now? If Reed liked her, why would he help his brother get a date with her? Anguish tapped across her midsection. He was attracted to her. They were sleeping together, and she’d believed he felt something more. She certainly felt something for him.
Why would they be deceptive? Why would Reed lie by omission? The tapping became more rapid, more painful, more angry. She hated being lied to, and having her trust broken. That’s how she’d lost her grandparents’ house and lost her heritage.
The pain radiated outward in waves of gall and frustration. She’d been fooled by the investor, and now she’d been fooled by Reed. The two brothers must be laughing behind her back. Dax had never been really persistent. His attention seemed to wax and wane. He was a player, and this could be a game to him. But Reed?
Why continue this cruel game after they’d made love? She sucked in a breath and coughed. Was having sex the winning factor? She found it hard to believe he’d be so mean and immature. Her mind spun with bewilderment. Her pulse pounded, similar to performing pirouette after pirouette. She’d vowed never to be tricked by dishonest words again, and yet, both Dax and Reed had lied.
“Everything okay?” Izzy stood at the front door of the dance studio.
Quinn had been so deep in her furious thoughts she hadn’t heard the door chime. She throttled the manual she held.
“You look like you want to kill someone.” Izzy’s friendly-not-prying tone had Quinn trying to control herself. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
These were her friend’s brothers she was pissed at. Well, pissed at Dax. Hurt by Reed. She set the manual down and smoothed out the edges with a little too much pressure. “Are your two brothers competitive with each other?”
“Always.” Izzy dropped her chin. The question didn’t surprise.
“About women?”
“There was this one girl who Reed had a crush on forever. He finally got the nerve to ask her to a dance, only to find Dax had swooped in and kissed her in the hallway.” Izzy’s eyes glinted with concern, realizing why Quinn had asked. “That was in high school, though.”
Her head spun like performing a series of rapid turns on demi-pointe, twirling faster and faster until she couldn’t tell dizziness from anger. They competed for women.
They lied. They used each other’s words and actions. They fooled her.
The bigger question: did Reed mean the words he wrote? Her body sagged, because the words had been so strong emotionally. And if he meant the words, why share them with his brother this morning?
Izzy grabbed her hand. “Did one of my brothers screw up?”
“Both of them.” Trying to control the anger and hurt, Quinn forged a plan to make Dax and Reed regret what they’d done. She’d find a way to share her displeasure. “I’m not a prize to be won.”
* * *
Reed’s blood thrummed, taking the stairs too fast for a guy with a bum leg. Nerves jumped off his skin. He hoped to sneak behind the counter, grab the manual and the music sheets, and get out without being noticed. Quinn should be teaching classes until her short dinner break before the adult classes tonight.
Skirting the backroom and bathroom, he stopped short at the edge of the floor.
Quinn stood in front of the counter, talking to a student. Her body leaned against the counter in a casual pose, and he remembered some of the poses he’d seen her in this morning. His body reacted with an internal flare of heat. Her hair was in the usual tight bun. His fingers itched to take the bun down and run his fingers through the strands. She hugged the girl and his body tilted forward, wanting his own hug.
The student left, and Quinn swiveled and spotted him. She frowned, not welcomed. His anxiety ramped up. Her gaze narrowed and shot arrows at his heart, making it shiver. Something was wrong. Had she seen the sheet music? And if she had, what did she think? If she realized he spoke of his real emotions, he’d expected a different greeting.
The anxiety twisted in his stomach.
He didn’t move to kiss her, and neither did she. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong?” Her voice was shrill, straining his eardrums. “Nothing’s wrong.” She twirled away and picked up her phone. “I received the sweetest text from Dax.”
Reed clutched the counter. The arrow she’d shot earlier infiltrated his heart and oozed green. “Sweet?”
The Romance Dance: Castle Ridge Small Town Romance Page 21