All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) (16 page)

Although the average consumer would never know it, only a couple of new malls were under development in the entire country. Each mall usually housed three to four department stores, and Riley O’Brien & Co.’s expansion opportunities were limited by the number of new department stores.

In addition to department stores, the company had distribution agreements with select boutiques across the nation. Although it had an entire department dedicated to vetting boutiques for possible distribution deals, boutiques were secondary to department stores and did not generate a large portion of revenue for the company.

In general, Quinn was not a fan of selling Rileys in boutiques, and in this instance, he and his dad disagreed. He thought it was too hard to police all the boutiques to make sure they were the kinds of places that would enhance the brand rather than damage it. His dad was of the opinion that it didn’t matter where Rileys were sold, as long as they sold.

Sam sighed loudly. “If you’re talking about opening up more company-operated stores, you know your dad would be against that idea.”

Along with department stores and boutiques, Riley O’Brien & Co. also leased space in malls, open-air centers, and urban retail locations for its own company-operated stores. Quinn’s dad wasn’t a fan of selling Rileys through this channel because of the expense and management supervision
involved. As a result, there were fewer than seventy-five company-operated stores across the U.S.

Quinn rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get rid of the kinks. “I know, but we have to keep expanding. We can’t continue to grow our revenues by relying only on our existing stores.”

Removing his hands from his head, Sam grabbed the arms of his chair to push himself to a standing position. “Let’s postpone any decisions until your dad comes back and things get back to normal,” he suggested, moving around the desk to Quinn.

Normal?
Quinn didn’t even know what that meant anymore.

He hadn’t felt “normal” in a long time, since before his dad had gotten sick. And he definitely didn’t feel normal with Amelia around. She made him off-balance, like he was standing in an open room during an earthquake. He didn’t know how to regain his equilibrium.

Sam patted him on the shoulder. “Get on out of here, boy. I need to make a phone call.”

Quinn stood. Sam’s jovial, familiar manner had started to grate on him, and he no longer found it comforting so much as condescending. He doubted the older man would ever adapt to answering to someone who’d played doctor with his daughters.

Something was going to have to change. But he didn’t know what or when.

Quinn checked his phone again to make sure he hadn’t missed a text from Teagan. She was running late, which was understandable given the crowd of people who had come out this Saturday to enjoy the annual chocolate festival in Ghirardelli Square.

His sister had stopped by his office yesterday after his unsatisfying meeting with Sam Sullivan. Although he’d been in a bad mood, he had said yes when she asked him to attend the festival with her.

He moved closer to the stop sign so he wouldn’t block the pedestrian traffic. Looking up and down the street, he tried to spot Teagan’s dark head.

A black four-door sedan pulled up to the curb, catching his attention. The driver came around to open the door, and Quinn immediately recognized the red head that poked out of the car, along with the curvy body that followed.

He let out a low groan, although he couldn’t say whether it was one of pleasure or dismay. Had Teagan invited Amelia to join them?

He watched intently for his sister to emerge from the car, but once Amelia was safely on the sidewalk, the driver closed the door and handed a business card to her.

Although Quinn and Amelia hadn’t parted on good terms, he was happy to see her. A jolt shot through his body, almost as if he’d gulped a double espresso.

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight she made as she stood on her tiptoes looking for someone. She was just so damn cute. She’d clearly dressed for comfort rather than style, and she looked like a tourist.

She had pulled her curly hair back into a messy ponytail, and she wore a pair of khaki cargo pants that hugged her round ass and red Converse tennis shoes. Her leather backpack pulled her navy blue T-shirt tight across her chest, emphasizing the curves of her breasts.

Amelia had yet to spot him. She continued her scan, and he tensed as her gaze brushed past him. He knew the exact moment her brain communicated with her eyes because her head jerked back to him, and her eyes widened.

He raised his hand in a casual wave, and she slowly walked toward him. Stopping right in front of him, she looked up. They stared at each other for a few moments before she spoke.

“Hi,” Amelia finally said, her voice low.

“Juice,” he acknowledged.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised to see you. I was supposed to meet Teagan here.”

Her voice was faintly accusing, and it pissed him off. He didn’t have to trick women into spending time with him.

“I’m surprised to see you, too,” he replied in an unfriendly tone. “She asked me to meet her here, too.”

His phone chimed to let him know he had a text message, and he heard Amelia’s phone vibrate at the same time. His message was from Teagan. It read: “Change of plans. Not coming. Make sure Amelia has fun. You’re welcome.”

What a manipulator!
He didn’t know whether he wanted to hug his conniving little sister or shake her until her teeth rattled.

He looked at Amelia, who had pulled her phone out of her pocket to read her own message. As she reviewed it, her plump lips turned down in a frown. He was pretty sure he had an idea what her message said. They’d been duped by a master.

“Bad news?” he asked innocently.

She raised her eyes to his. “Teagan’s not coming.”

“I know. I just got the same message.”

She immediately pulled out the card the driver had given her, clearly intending to ask him to come and get her. He placed his hand on her forearm to stop her.

“Wait a second.”

She jerked away from him. “What?” she asked rudely.

“Stay. Spend the day with me.”

Shaking her head, she opened her mouth. He rushed to speak before she could say no.

“I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

Her russet eyebrows shot up. “What about your mouth?”

Her question shocked a laugh out of him. “That, too. You don’t need to worry. My mouth will be too busy eating chocolate to bother you.”

She harrumphed, the sound making him smile. After several seconds, she tucked her phone and the driver’s card back into her pocket.

“Okay.”

He gave an internal sigh of relief. She was his, for a few hours, at least.

“This way,” he said, tilting his head toward Ghirardelli Square.

He put his hand on the small of her back to usher her forward only to jerk it away when she tensed. He tucked his hands in his pockets to keep them under control.

“Teagan told me Riley O’Brien & Co. sponsors the event,” Amelia said.

“We’re one of the sponsors. It’s part of our philanthropic efforts since the proceeds from the festival go to a local nonprofit. We’ve been a sponsor for a long time.”

“Do you have any other charitable programs?”

“Yes. We have quite a few. The most successful is our annual special-edition jeans. We donate the sales proceeds to a different charity every year. My mom came up with the idea when Teagan was a baby, and my dad signed off on it.”

His dad was hard as nails when it came to business. But he was a marshmallow when it came to his wife and his kids.
And Teagan had taken advantage of it when she’d lobbied for the new line of accessories.

“How long have your parents been married?”

“They’re going to celebrate their thirty-sixth anniversary this December. They got married on New Year’s Eve. My dad said they chose that date because he never again wanted to kiss anyone else at the stroke of midnight.”

Amelia sighed. “That’s romantic,” she said. “Are they still happy together?”

He considered her question before shaking his head. “Happy isn’t a good description.”

She glanced at him quizzically, and he tried to think of the best way to explain his parents’ marriage. As a kid, he hadn’t realized how unique their relationship was, but as an adult, he recognized how rare it was to find the kind of love they had.

“They’re
absorbed
with each other. When they’re in the same room together, it’s like they breathe in concert.”

A big group of people passed by, and Quinn moved to shield Amelia from any possible jostles. When they were alone on the sidewalk again, he resumed their conversation.

“My parents have a very intense, passionate relationship. My dad never has to wonder if he’s done something wrong because my mom yells loudly enough that you can hear it in every room.”

Amelia laughed. “Is she only like that with him, or is she that way with everyone?”

“Now that you mention it, she’s only like that with him. She says he makes her crazy.”

She sucked in a breath, and he realized he’d said the same thing to her when they had been in the workshop. He didn’t want to consider the possibility there were any similarities between his parents’ relationship and the way he felt about Amelia.

He cleared his throat. “Let me tell you about the festival.”

He explained that attendees purchased tasting cards, which served as currency to purchase treats from the vendors. “One of the perks of being a sponsor is free cards, so we won’t have to purchase any.” He patted the front pockets
of his Rileys. “I have a few right here. You can have anything and everything you want.”

When she didn’t reply, a disturbing thought crossed Quinn’s mind. “
Shit.
Is chocolate one of your don’ts? Like coffee and alcohol?” His horror was evident in his voice.

“Are you kidding?” she asked, laughing incredulously. “In my world, chocolate is one of the major food groups.”

He exhaled gustily. “I’m relieved. This festival would be a huge waste of time if you didn’t eat chocolate.”

She smiled. “I don’t
eat
chocolate. I
devour
it.”

Her emphasis on the word “devour” made his skin feel tight and hot. Forget chocolate. He wanted to devour
her
.

•   •   •

Amelia took a big bite of molten lava cake. Gooey chocolate oozed over the spoon, and she had to catch it on her tongue to keep it from dripping down her chin and onto her shirt.

As the rich, dark flavor hit her taste buds, she closed her eyes and moaned, long and loud. She couldn’t help it. The cake was orgasmically delicious.

She heard Quinn’s muffled laughter, and she opened her eyes. He was enjoying his own mouthful of lava cake, his cheeks resembling a chipmunk’s, and he already had another big bite loaded on his spoon.

“I’m glad we decided not to share this lava cake because we would have had a throw-down over who got the most bites,” she joked.

He nodded vigorously in agreement and shoved another bite in his mouth. This time he was the one who closed his eyes and moaned. She was entranced by the expression on his face. Did he look like that when he climaxed?

She had a hard time looking away, and she was snared in his gaze when he opened his dark blue eyes and stared right at her. He licked his lips.

“What’s next?”

She looked around. They’d visited several tents, and she was glad she had agreed to stay and spend the day with Quinn.

She enjoyed Quinn’s company way too much. He was funny, smart, and surprisingly insightful. And despite his
well-developed ego, he was also self-aware enough to laugh at himself. Perhaps more important, she sensed an innate goodness in him, and after her childhood, she was adept at identifying both ends of the spectrum.

“Do you still have room for more?”

He chuckled. “I always have room for more chocolate.”

She nodded in agreement. Because each tasting was pretty small, she had yet to have her fill of treats.

“Cupcakes,” she suggested, pointing to a tent that had a pink-and-white-striped awning. “Babycakes” was written in brown script across it.

His eyes lit up. “Babycakes has the best cupcakes in town.”

They got rid of their empty containers and headed toward the tent. Apparently everyone at the festival agreed with Quinn because the line was long.

Quinn eyed the throng of people with a frown. “Do you want to wait?”

“You said they’re the best in town. Are they worth waiting for?”

He jerked his head toward her, an arrested expression on his face. “There are only a few things I’m willing to wait for.”

She felt like she was missing something. “Okay. But is Babycakes one of those things?”

He cleared his throat. “Sure, we can wait.”

They took their place in line, and there were so many people crammed in the small space that she and Quinn touched from shoulder to hip. His heat radiated through her clothes, and she wanted to move away, but there was nowhere to go.

The line moved forward, and the person behind Amelia bumped into her. When she stumbled slightly, Quinn moved closer to her, sliding his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip.

Her chest tightened, and she started to sweat. She couldn’t handle being this close to him without thinking about his mouth and hands on her body. She already thought about it too much.

The line was noisy, and he leaned down so she could hear him. His breath was hot on her ear, and she shivered.

“What kind of cupcake do you want? They have chocolate raspberry and chocolate peanut butter.”

She didn’t want a cupcake. She wanted Quinn.

“They both sound good. I don’t know.”

He caressed her hip. What happened to his promise to keep his hands to himself?!

“How about you get one flavor, and I’ll get the other, and we’ll share?”

She nodded. “That sounds fine,” she said, lying through her teeth. She didn’t want to share his cupcake, unless “cupcake” was a code word for “penis.”

Finally, they reached the counter, and he placed their order. Mercifully, he had to remove his hand from her hip to grab the cupcakes, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Passing one of the cupcakes to her, he returned his hand to the small of her back to move her in front of him. She wondered if he was this protective and possessive with all the women he dated.

She mentally slapped herself.
We aren’t dating. This isn’t a
date.

They found a quiet place between two tents to enjoy their treats. The small space was remarkably private despite the fact that it was in the middle of the festival, and the noise from the crowd was muted.

Amelia lifted her hand so she could appreciate the delectable sight of her cupcake. It covered her palm with a swirl of chocolate icing at least three inches on top. Quinn’s was identical.

“Which one do I have?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled widely. “I guess it will be a surprise.”

She peeled the wrapper from the side of the cupcake. “Please tell me you got some napkins.”

He nodded before taking a bite of his cupcake, smearing icing all over his upper lip. She took a bite of her own cupcake and got a bit of icing on her nose.

She savored the flavors creating a symphony in her mouth. She definitely had the chocolate peanut butter cupcake, and the mix of nutty goodness and rich chocolate was delicious. Grabbing a napkin in his free hand, he swiped the icing off her nose.

“Thanks. Eating cupcakes is messy business.”

He mumbled a reply around a mouthful of cupcake, and she pointed to his lips. “You have icing all over you.”

He licked his lips before rubbing the napkin across his mouth. “Is it gone?”

She nodded and held out her hand for his cupcake. He frowned.

“What?”

“You said we were going to share, and I want to try the chocolate raspberry.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Is your cupcake not good? Is that why you want mine?”

“Of course it’s good. I just want a bite. I’m not going to eat both of them.”

He held out his cupcake but snatched it back when she reached for it. “No, I’m going to hold on to it.”

She scowled. “Don’t be so selfish.”

He laughed. “I’m not being selfish, Juice. I’m being smart.” He offered his cupcake. “Here, take a bite.”

“You better not smash it in my face,” she warned him.

“This isn’t our wedding,” he shot back, freezing when he realized what he’d said.

His eyes widened, but before he could say anything else, she grabbed his wrist and took a huge bite of his cupcake. “Oh, this is so much better than mine,” she moaned, unconcerned with the fact that she was talking with her mouth full.