She clung to him as he finished, reality still too far away to be a worry. Quinn rolled onto his side and took her with him. “I’m glad we had this talk.”
Aubry laughed because there was nothing else to do. “You’re right. You really do play dirty.”
“You like it.” He palmed her breast, his expression losing its teasing edge. “I’m serious though, Aubry. I want to date you.”
The shock of hearing her actual name on his lips chased away the last of the desire tingeing her thoughts. She settled back into the pillow, staring at the wall. Trying to date Quinn might be a mistake…but it was suddenly one she wanted to make more than anything else in the world. “What if it doesn’t work out?”
“What if it does?”
She wasn’t sure which option scared her more.
He seemed to sense what the problem was—the man was way too good at reading her—and smoothed back her hair. “Do you have a legit reason for saying no?”
“Legit? No. Irrational? Only about a million and a half.” Strangely enough, that knowledge settled some of her fears. “You’re serious about wanting this?”
“As a heart attack.”
A curious lightness coursed through her and she found herself grinning like a fool. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. Let’s go on a date and see what happens.”
Quinn’s smile was a reward in and of itself. He rolled back on top of her, settling between her thighs. “Look at you, taking a leap of faith.” He kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers, his hands on her body teasing the desire she had been sure was sated back to life. “Guess I’ll have to reward you, huh?”
She laughed. “I think I’m going to have to insist on it.”Chapter SixteenAfter Aubry agreed to actually give them a shot once they got back to Devil’s Falls, nothing could get Quinn down—not even having to spend some time in close quarters with his parents. He’d left Aubry asleep in bed and come down to the required breakfast before the rest of the official shit started. Jenny was all smiles and clearly displayed nerves, but she gave him a big hug as he reached the table. “Sorry.”
Quinn didn’t get the chance to ask what she meant, because as soon as he sat down, his mother turned her disapproving look on him. It was one she’d had cause to practice over the decades and it used to be enough to bring him to heel, no matter how much he chafed at the restriction. That was a long time ago, though. Quinn poured himself some coffee and sat back. “Mother. Father.”
As expected, Peggy barely waited for him to take his first sip before she started up. “Quinn, honey, we’re worried about you.”
“We’ve let you have your freedom—all men need their freedom—but this is going too far.” His old man picked up right where she left off, as if they’d practiced this. Hell, maybe they had.
“You brought th-that girl to your sister’s wedding.” His mother took a sip of water. When she spoke again, her tone was much more controlled. “You’re thirty-four years old. The youthful rebellion was expected in your twenties. You dated wild girls and put gray hairs on my head. I hardly expected you to show up to your sister’s wedding with one who put them all to shame. She’s just so…trashy. I’m drawing the line.”
He almost pointed out that Jenny didn’t seem to have a damn problem with Aubry, but it was his sister’s wedding day and he wasn’t going to throw her under the bus to distract his parents. So he sat back and let them rant. They took turns going over the same old conversational paths. He was a Baldwyn. He was expected to act a certain way and not bring scandal down around the family’s ears. While his cowboy thing was cute at first, it was time to let it go and be done. He most certainly must not settle down with a woman who was beneath him. Under all the expected words, there was an undertone of desperation that had never been there before.
Apparently showing up with Aubry had been all the evidence they needed to finally realize that he was, in fact, serious about not dancing to the tune they set.
When they trailed off and a full five seconds passed without someone picking up the conversational ball, he drained his coffee. “Well, that was fun.”
“Fun.” His mother looked in danger of screeching. “You haven’t been listening to a single thing we’ve been saying.”
“No more than you’ve listened to me in the last twelve years.” He set his mug down. “I’m not coming back. Not in the way you want me to. As fun as it’s been torturing ourselves with these forced dinners and going round and round again every single time I see you, I’m done.” He stood. “If you can’t respect what I’ve chosen to do with my life—and who I’ve chosen to spend it with—then you can fuck off. I’m not changing, no matter how much you want me to.” He turned around and strode out of the restaurant, not sure if he was feeling free—or in a freefall.