He shook his head. What the fuck was he even thinking? There was no woman more off-limits than Aubry, especially now that she’d agreed to act as his date for the wedding. He couldn’t afford to let something like sex muddle the waters between them. They didn’t like each other, and he was more than fine with that.
The longer he stood here, the more likely he was to say something they’d both regret, so he pushed off the wall and headed for the door. “Whatever. Just be ready bright and early Monday morning.”
“I don’t do bright and early.”
He opened the door and glanced over his shoulder. “You will on Monday. Be ready or I’ll climb into bed with you, and we both know how that would end.”
Her screech of fury was music to his ears, and he broke out into a little whistled tune as he jogged down the stairs and out the door.
…
Aubry hauled her suitcase down the stairs, cursing Quinn with every insult she knew under her breath. It was seven in the goddamn morning and she hadn’t had her coffee yet.
As if her thinking it had summoned said coffee, Jules appeared in the doorway that led to the café, a travel mug in her hands. “It’ll be okay.”
“I’m supposed to be the one saying that to you. You’re going to scatter your mother-in-law’s ashes.” Aubry had been so wrapped up in her fury at Quinn she hadn’t been focused enough on what Jules was going through. Yes, Jules had Adam, but that didn’t mean she and Aubry weren’t friends anymore. She sighed. “I’ve been a bad best friend.”
“You’ve been fine.” Jules passed over the coffee and squeezed her arm. “And both Adam and I will be fine, too.” She looked chagrined. “Honestly, I feel like I should be apologizing for pushing you into this trip with Quinn. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m wondering if it isn’t going to be a horrible mistake.”
“Oh, I can save you from wondering that—it’s already a horrible mistake.” The stricken look on her friend’s face instantly made her feel like an ass. “No, it’s fine. I’m joking.” Mostly.
It wasn’t being around him for the next few days she was worried about. It was that, when he’d threatened to climb into bed with her, she’d actually caught herself considering it for half a second. That was utterly unforgivable. She didn’t hook up. For fuck’s sake, she didn’t even date. To break both those rules with a man she could barely stand?
No. Absolutely not. Aubry might be kind of crazy, and she might be anti-social enough to worry her therapist, but she wasn’t that nuts. Even contemplating that level of crazy was asking for the kind of trouble she wasn’t sure she could deal with.
It didn’t stop her from wondering what it would be like if he really kissed her.
“What’s got that look on your face?”
Aubry jumped, trying to stomp down on the guilt weeding its way outward from her stomach. She had nothing to feel guilty for. “Nothing.”
“Aubry—”
The back door opened and Quinn stepped through, filling the door frame. He took them both in. “Guess I’m not crawling into bed with you, sweet cheeks. You missed the time of your life, and you don’t even know it.”
There went her blush again, flaming across her cheeks and making her want to snarl. The way Jules’s mouth dropped open did nothing to help Aubry’s mood. She grabbed her suitcase handle and started for the door. “Call me when you get settled in your hotel,” Aubry said.
“I, uh, okay.”
And then she was through the door and out into the sticky June heat. If there was one thing she missed about Ohio, it was the summers that were just shy of blistering. The milder winters down in Texas almost made up for the melting summers, but it was hard to remember that when she’d been out of air conditioning for a grand total of five seconds and was already starting to sweat.
She caught sight of the truck idling at the curb and stopped short. “Are you on crack?”
The truck looked like it had been alive longer than she had, and it wasn’t one of those pristine rebuilt oldie trucks, either. This thing had been lived in since it came off the production line or however the hell trucks were made.
“Not last time I checked.” Quinn scooped up her overnight suitcase and tossed it into the bed of the truck. He eyed the bag in her hands, which only made her clutch it to her chest. No way in hell was she letting him toss her computer around like he just had her clothes.
Satisfied her equipment was safe, she focused on the problem at hand—mainly, the sad excuse for transportation in front of her. “That is not going to get us to San Diego. I’m not even sure that will get us past the town limits.”