Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

Eighteen

Quinn

“It’s not a good omen when we’re still in your driveway and can’t agree on a playlist.” I laughed, but it was true. First, we’d had a friendly disagreement over which vehicle to take. I’d won that round by showing Adam that my SUV, while small, did have four-wheel drive and could hold all the gear he had stowed in plastic tubs. And now, Adam, clearly not the most comfortable playing passenger, had figured out that he could connect his phone to my car stereo.

“Hey, I have access to a fancy stereo, I don’t want to waste it.” Adam continued to thumb through music on his phone.

“I’ve heard parts of your playlist. The local rodeo called and would like its Friday night party music back.”

“That’s not rodeo music. It’s my weightlifting mix.” Adam waved my complaint away. “Besides, rodeo is a good time anyway. But okay, okay, I’ll find something with less twang.”

“My music taste isn’t that bad either. I’ve got a bunch of presets on there as well.”

“Yeah, I guess we can listen to your emo British boys.” Adam had already teased me about my musical tastes when we’d made the drive to the home store. “They’re fuckable at least, I’ll give them that.”

I didn’t like how easily he said fuckable. And I really, really didn’t like my swift surge of jealousy. Mad at myself, I muttered, “Twang it is. Pick what you want.”

Adam reached over and touched my arm. “Hey. Are you upset because I called them fuckable?”

“No,” I muttered.

“You are.” He sounded surprised, and when I tried to duck my head, he captured my chin. “Quinn, look at me. I’m not fucking around with anyone else right now. You keep me plenty busy.”

“Me and work.” I tried to cover for how pleased this news made me. Not that I needed exclusivity… Damn it. I couldn’t even lie to myself. Apparently, I did. And he seemed to know it, revealing yet again how good he was at meeting needs I didn’t even know I had. “You’re a good Daddy.”

“And you’re a good boy.” He brushed a kiss across my mouth. “I don’t want anyone else. Promise.”

His husky words made my chest warm and gooey like a brownie I wasn’t supposed to indulge in. “Good.”

“And you’re cuter than those singer guys anyway.” He nipped at my jaw before settling back into the passenger seat and buckling up.

“Now you’re just trying to make sure you get some later.” All pleased now, I finally put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

“There is no try about it. A night away? Hell, yes. Early to bed, and I’ll make you scream twice under the stars.”

“Such a romantic.” I followed the GPS’s directions to head east. Our destination was only about an hour away, but it was deep in the forest, near the river, and far from even a tiny town.

“I’m not a romantic.” Adam’s cheeks were distinctly pink when I glanced over while we were at a stop sign.

“You’re blushing.”

“Hey, if you can go all shy about loving Daddy kink, I’m allowed to feel self-conscious about romantic urges.”

“Liking romantic things isn’t weird,” I countered. “For instance, you liked my new bedding.”

I’d splurged on some new sheets and a duvet cover to match the blueish-purple walls. Cream with light heather accents, the set gave the room a very upscale spa vibe that Adam had teased me about until he’d felt how silky the sheets were.

“Accepting that you might be right about thread count isn’t romantic.”

“But packing similar bedding for the yurt when I know you’re a flannel guy? That’s romance.” I’d been more than a little touched when he’d had a puffy white comforter among the gear to take with us, saying he knew how I liked my creature comforts.

“Okay. You got me. I might have packed you some candles too. I’ve got plenty of flashlights, but there is something nice about candles in the yurt.” He was still blushing. Which considering that was usually my default operating mode around him, the reaction was particularly adorable.

“Such a good Daddy.” I patted his thigh.

“Drive faster so I can show you exactly how good.” Chuckling, he stretched in the passenger seat. “And surely me catching tonight’s dinner for you counts as romance too.”

“It depends. Does it have fur, feathers, or fins?” I kept my voice light, but I also wasn’t eating anything too strange, like squirrel.

“Fins, hopefully. Fish should be easy enough, and this part of the river is well-stocked and super pristine. I did pack some emergency venison just in case though.”

“Emergency venison is going on your line of T-shirts and memes.”

“Ha. I’m just prepared, that’s all. Gotta take care of my boy, earn more of those good Daddy points.” Adam preened, and we both laughed as the drive became increasingly more remote, thick green forest on either side of the narrow country road until we reached a dirt road turnoff with a large metal gate where Adam had to enter a code for us to proceed.