He took his arm off me to eat.
And I didn’t miss it. Not one little bit.
Whew.
My head was still in the right place.
It remained there until after coffee and dessert when we asked for the bill. “The meal’s been taken care of,” said our server. “Including gratuity. Thank you so much.”
“What?” said Margot, who was pulling out her wallet.
We exchanged a look; she and I had been planning to split the bill.
I glanced at Quinn, who calmly sipped his coffee. His profile emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw, the smooth bridge of his nose, the stunning length of his lashes. My insides clenched. Was he really coming home with me tonight?
He caught me staring and winked, sending a little flutter through my belly.
“Quinn, did you do this?” Claire asked. “It’s too much.”
“Not at all. Happy birthday,” he said. “It was my pleasure to be here, so thank you. This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m so glad Jaime invited you,” she said warmly.
Quinn smiled boyishly at her. Finally, he’d dropped the act. “Actually, I think I invited myself. But Jaime had mercy on me.” Those eyes looked my way. “She’s got a big heart.”
And things in my head started to shift.
I didn’t say much on the way home, partly because I couldn’t stop thinking about New York. Would there be female models there? Would he get hit on? Would he be propositioned at the hotel bar? Would he feel free to say yes?
Of course he would. Why wouldn’t he? You have no claim on him, nor do you want one.
I didn’t. I didn’t want one. But truthfully, I felt a little ill thinking about him with someone else. And I couldn’t wait to get him into my bed tonight—the unexpected jealousy had me even more anxious.
The other thing that had me reeling was the compliment he’d given me.
She’s got a big heart.
It wasn’t usually something people said of me. At work I was called things like sharp, creative, ambitious, good with a deadline. My family thought I was responsible and hardworking, which they appreciated, being career-focused themselves. My friends sometimes told me I was funny and loyal and trustworthy, and I’d heard from men I was sexy and fun. But I didn’t think anyone had ever told me I had a big heart.
I never showed it to anyone.
“Tired, love bug?”
The term of endearment made me cringe. “Good grief. Please tell me the love bug show is over.”
“OK, fine.” He was quiet for a moment, then he started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your face.”
I slapped his arm.
“I meant your face all night whenever I called you a name.”
“You were ridiculous.” But I giggled. “Snookums? Gumdrop? Where did you even come up with that shit?”
“I don’t know. I guess you just inspired me.”
“Please.” I held up one hand. “I am not your snookums, nor do I want to be.”
He sighed as he pulled into the driveway, lining up the passenger door with the sidewalk. “Aren’t you ever worried you’re going to hurt my feelings when you say that stuff to me?”
“Was that…” I sat up taller in the seat and leaned toward him, like I might have heard him wrong. “Was that the F word I just heard coming out of your mouth?”
He grinned, glancing over at me. “I guess it was.”
“I thought we agreed not to talk about those things, but no, it is not my intent to hurt yours, so I’m sorry if I have.”
He put the car in park. “Here, I’ll let you out and then park on the street in case you need to get out in the morning.”
“It’s OK. I’m not going anywhere early.” I put my hand on the door handle, but something stopped me from getting out of the car.
She’s got a big heart.
“Quinn…have I? Hurt your feelings?”
He smiled. “No, I’m just having fun with you. But it’s nice to know you care, buttercup.”
“Blech. I’m getting out now.” I got out and waited on the sidewalk while he pulled up a little, leaving the car in the drive. Walking toward the house together, I felt his hand on my back, but I didn’t complain.
When the front door was locked behind us, I turned off the hall light and started up the stairs, expecting him to follow.
He stayed where he was, so I stopped at the top and looked down at his silhouette in the dark. “Don’t you want to come up?”
“I don’t know.”
My jaw dropped. “You don’t know?”
“I’m not sure I’m in the mood.”
Always a fucking game with him. “Felt like you were in the mood earlier.”
He didn’t say anything right away. Then, “You were a very bad girl at the table tonight.”
“You deserved it.”
“Your friends see what was going on?”
I nodded slowly.
“You wanted them to.”
Damn him. “Maybe.”
“Does it turn you on? Shaming me?” He started to move toward me then, slowly coming up the steps.
“Maybe.” My heart pounded louder as he got closer, my knees trembling. When he was two stairs below me, our eyes were just about even. I was trying to read his in the dark when suddenly he grabbed the back of my hair, stepped onto the landing, and forced me to look up at him.