Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

“Yup. Will do.” I made her a glass of iced tea before she could ask.

“I’ll save you a big piece,” she promised, accepting the drink with one of her patented smiles. “I’ve got more leftovers these days without Teddy scarfing down the cookies.”

“I miss them too,” I admitted. And we were both in the same boat, at loose ends with Ramona and Teddy gone for the summer.

“I’m happy for Ramona, but Alaska seems so far away.” Her sigh rattled through me. “Darren’s a good guy, but I miss my girl.”

“I know.” Mom all sad and lonely got to me. Maybe I’d visit with her a little after picking up the brownies, see what else she needed fixed. I could volunteer for a few more favors if it meant easing her load a little. It was damn impressive how she’d built her business as a single mom, and I didn’t mind helping her, even if her lists occasionally reached epic lengths.

“You must be enjoying all the free time without babysitting.”

Uninvited, Quinn’s image popped up in my brain. “Oh, I’ll find something to keep busy.”

Not wanting to get into my personal life, I steered the conversation toward the renovation plans for the rental I was staying at. I spent the rest of her lunch break trying to take her mind off missing Ramona and Teddy, grabbing my own lunch while she enjoyed her BLT.

Then it was dinner, and the Tuesday social club that met at the tavern kept us busy, along with some mid-week tourists. The rush had settled when I noticed a familiar face. Doc was lurking just inside the door, his expression sheepish, eyes darting around like we might be about to kick him to the curb. So, of course, I had to rib him a little as I waved him over to the bar.

“Doc. What did I say about no more benders?” I teased in a low voice, not caring for the way my pulse sped up as he took a seat at the bar.

“I’m not here to drink.” Quinn’s cheeks went adorably pink as he took a seat at the bar anyway. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Good. Dinner?” I slid him a menu. I was still smarting from his earlier business-like tone, so I kept my voice neutral. He didn’t need to know how happy I was that he’d come by.

“Thank you. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Having dinner.”

“I told you, I keep things quiet. No one’s gonna gossip about you on my watch.”

“That’s…I appreciate that. You’re a good guy.” His smile had warmed several degrees since the last time I’d seen him. “And I meant more that I owe you a thank-you.”

“It’s okay.” I waved off his concern. Should have known he’d feel all obligated. “We’re good. You had a rough time of it. I’m happy to help.”

“You did help. A lot. And I know that offering food to a restaurant owner is a little like giving plane tickets to a pilot, but I thought maybe I could cook you dinner? It’s probably not up to your chef’s standards…”

Huh. Was this a date? Perhaps Quinn was going to take me up on the hookup offer after all. If he wanted to hide behind a dinner invite, I could roll with that, see what he had planned.

“I’m not a food snob. Bar food gets old after a while anyway, even the good stuff Logan has on the menu. A home-cooked meal sounds good.”

“Excellent.” Exhaling, he seemed a little startled that I’d agreed so readily, but the color on his cheeks said he wasn’t upset about it either. “When’s your next evening off?”

“Tomorrow night, actually. I usually take Tuesday or Wednesday night if we’re slow enough. You still off tomorrow?”

“You remembered my schedule?” He adjusted his glasses.

Fuck. If hot nerd wasn’t already a favorite type of mine, he and his blushes would be enough to get it on my short list.

“Good memory.” I tapped my head. Everyone always assumed that because I was a big dude and hadn’t ever gone to college that I didn’t have the same smarts as a guy like Quinn. But I didn’t need a whole curriculum to be a damn good listener.

“I’ll say.” Quinn gave me an appreciative look that went a fair way toward making me forget the tense morning. The heat in his gaze added to my hope that this might be more than simply him trying to say thank you. “So, tomorrow night?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “It’s a date.” But I still wasn’t entirely sure what he was planning, and I didn’t want to spook him.

I settled for smiling and telling him, “That sounds perfect.”

And whatever his intentions, the way he bloomed under the praise, sitting up taller and smiling, was sexy as hell. Figuring him out would be fun and might be exactly the distraction I needed.