All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1) (26 page)

The limo’s headlights cut a swath of light across the front of the farmhouse, illuminating the empty driveway. Amelia exhaled in relief. It was pure luck that Ava Grace wasn’t home since she usually spent Sunday evenings catching up on her favorite television shows she’d recorded during the week.

Amelia had known Quinn would want to escort her home after they landed at the corporate airstrip outside Nashville. She’d been resigned to introducing him to Ava Grace and then suffering her best friend’s interrogation after he left.

She hadn’t been eager for him to meet her, though. Men tended to turn into slobbering idiots in the tall blonde’s presence, and she didn’t want to see his eyes bug out and his tongue roll out of his mouth like a cartoon character.

More important, she didn’t want Ava Grace to witness them together. Her best friend was perceptive, way too perceptive for Amelia’s peace of mind.

It would take Ava Grace less than sixty seconds to figure out Amelia and Quinn had breached the boundaries of their professional relationship. Within ninety seconds, she’d have a good idea they were getting busy. By the two-minute mark, Ava Grace would know Amelia was racing toward heartbreak.

During the entire flight from Georgia and the drive to the farmhouse, she’d tried to work up the courage to tell Quinn about the redesign. She cared more about protecting Quinn’s feelings than she feared angering Teagan. Her conscience—her heart—wouldn’t allow her to lie to him anymore.

Unfortunately, every time she had opened her mouth to tell the truth, something else had come out. She had babbled the whole time, and he had given her strange looks for the past three hours.

This was her last chance to tell him before he returned to San Francisco, and she turned toward him with the intention of coming clean. But he no longer lounged beside her in the limo’s leather seats. He’d already opened the door and exited the car.

Quinn held out his hand to help her from the car, courteous and attentive as always. She grasped it, a tingle traveling up her arm. She closed her eyes briefly to savor the feel of his skin against hers before joining him outside the limo.

The lights from the car’s interior cast his face in shadow, and she couldn’t see his expression. She could feel him, though, and she shivered a little when he brushed her hair away from her face.

“Are you going to invite me in?” he asked quietly.

Yes, she was going to invite him in. And then she would get some gumption and tell him the truth about the redesign. In doing so, she would implode whatever this thing was between them.

“Come in.”

She headed up the walkway. Ava Grace had left on the porch light, and she fished her keys from her purse and entered the house. She flicked on the foyer light, and Quinn and the limo driver followed with her luggage. She directed them to leave the bags in the foyer, and Quinn cocked his head toward the limo driver.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be,” he said.

The driver nodded, assuring him that he’d be waiting. She knew Quinn wouldn’t stay for long after she came clean with her secret project.

The foyer opened up into the living room, and she switched on the lamps situated around the room. His gaze swept the space, his face openly curious.

“This isn’t what I expected when you said you lived in an old farmhouse,” he admitted.

She looked around the room, trying to see it from his perspective. Before she and Ava Grace had moved in, they had done some minor renovations, including refinishing the wood plank flooring, painting all the rooms, and installing new light fixtures.

They’d chosen a fresh, buttery yellow for the living area, which provided a lovely contrast to the shiny oak floors. The far end of the room featured an entire wall of windows, and a huge stone fireplace occupied one wall.

An oversized sofa upholstered in a floral pattern and two coordinating plaid chairs filled the homey room. Reclaimed barn doors that had been whitewashed were repurposed as end tables and a coffee table.

All in all, it was obvious two women lived there. It was decidedly feminine.

“What did you expect?” she asked.

“I don’t know. But I like this room a lot. Is the rest of the house this nice?”

She nodded. “We went a little overboard when we moved in.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence. The tension in the room was palpable, and nausea churned in her stomach. He crossed his arms over his chest, and they stared at each other, several feet separating them.

“Quinn—”

“Amelia—”

They spoke at the same time, and she swallowed the rest of what she’d planned to say. He did the same. She cleared her throat loudly, and he frowned as he dropped his arms.

“What were you going to say?” he asked, his eyes intent on her face.

“I need to tell you something.”

Looking down, she realized her hands trembled. She immediately clasped them together to hide her nervousness.

She had rehearsed what she wanted to say over and over, hoping that if she used the right words to describe her deal with Teagan, she could minimize the fallout. But now that she was here, she couldn’t remember what she’d practiced.

Quinn closed the space between them, wrapping his big
hand around the back of her neck. “I need to tell you something, too.”

She let her head drop forward. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and she pressed her tongue against the top of her mouth to keep them from trickling out.

Placing his fingers under her chin, he lifted her face. He smoothed his thumb across her bottom lip before leaning forward and kissing her. She gripped his waist with both hands, wishing his kiss would never end.

Wishing they would never end.

He pulled back abruptly. “I think Ava Grace is home,” he said, stepping away from her.

She heard footsteps in the foyer, and she growled. She was going to
strangle
Ava Grace for her rotten timing!

He shot her a quizzical glance. “Are you okay?” he asked just as Ava Grace entered the room.

Ava Grace’s gaze landed on her, and a huge smile lit up her face. “Millie!” she squealed. “You’re home!”

Amelia smiled, even though just moments before, she’d imagined wrapping her fingers around Ava Grace’s slender neck. The tall blonde rushed toward her but stopped when she noticed Quinn.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead. “I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Ava Grace and Quinn stared at each other for several heartbeats without speaking. Amelia looked back and forth between them, noting that her best friend wore a tight red sweater and a matching short suede skirt she’d made for her.

She glanced toward Quinn to see if he’d noticed Ava Grace’s perky breasts, narrow waist, and long, tan legs. Surprisingly, he wasn’t drooling, and a frown marred Ava Grace’s pretty face.

Stepping forward, Amelia made introductions. “Ava Grace, this is Quinn O’Brien. Quinn, this is my best friend, Ava Grace Landy.”

Neither Quinn nor Ava Grace looked in her direction. They continued to stare at one another, both of them still and silent. Amelia was bewildered by the undercurrents in the room. Was it sexual attraction?

Please, God, no. Not that.

Finally Quinn spoke. “Amelia says you’ve been inseparable since you were five years old. She told me that you’re more than her best friend. She says you’re her only family.” He held out his hand to Ava Grace. “Thank you for being there for her.”

Ava Grace’s hazel eyes narrowed. “I’ll always be there for her.
Always.
”

He nodded, and Ava Grace cocked her head. After a moment, she clasped his hand.

“You’re not what I expected.”

He smiled, reminding Amelia how gorgeous he was.

“Neither are you,” he replied.

Amelia cleared her throat, more than a little annoyed they were gazing into each other’s eyes like lovers. Ava Grace immediately dropped his hand.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Quinn,” she said before turning to Amelia. “We’ll catch up later.”

Ava Grace headed toward her bedroom with a long-legged stride, but Amelia knew the opportunity for her and Quinn to speak privately was gone. She sat down in her favorite chair and tucked her feet under her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. “Ava Grace is an unrepentant eavesdropper,” she warned him. “So if you don’t want her to hear what you’re going to say, you better not say it.”

Closing his mouth with a snap, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck me,” he mumbled.

She felt like echoing his sentiment. She had no desire to tell him the truth about Teagan’s project while Ava Grace listened. She wasn’t happy with the alternative, either, which was waiting until she returned to San Francisco in early December.

Of course she’d probably have several samples finished by then, and she could show him what she’d done. Maybe Teagan was right. Maybe Quinn would react more favorably to the redesign if he could see and touch the new styles.

Throwing himself onto the sofa, Quinn looked up at the ceiling. “Listen, Juice. I want to keep our . . .” He paused. “Would you be willing to . . . to . . .” He stuttered a bit. “
Shit
.”

He sat up and speared her with his dark blue gaze. “I
know we live in different cities, but I don’t have any interest in being with anyone but you. And I don’t want you to go out with any other guys or . . .” He made a low sound in his throat. “Or let anyone else touch you.”

His words surprised her so much she couldn’t formulate a response. She had never imagined he wanted to discuss
this
.

He frowned at her silence. “Can we at least give it a try?” he asked, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. “Just see how it goes?”

Even though she knew things would end badly, she wanted more time with him. She nodded.

“Okay.”

His eyes widened. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

He frowned. “Just to be clear, no dates and no sex with anyone else.”

“Yes, I’m agreeing. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He rubbed his hand across his chin, the stubble making a slight rasping noise against his fingers. “It’s a start,” he answered before standing up and pulling his phone from the front pocket of his Rileys.

Looking at the screen, he pressed a button. “Damn. I need to get going, Juice. Walk me out?”

She rose and walked him to the door. He backed her up against the wall of the foyer before sliding his hands into her hair and tilting her head back until he could look into her eyes.

“I’m going to miss you,” he said.

He gave her a deep kiss that made her knees tremble and her mind go blank. Before she could recover, he’d already opened the door and jogged to the limo. He didn’t look back, and she closed the front door because she didn’t want to see him drive away.

Slowly returning to the living room, she grabbed a quilt from the wicker basket beside the sofa and climbed back into her chair. She wrapped the comfy softness around her, pulling up her knees and resting her head on them. He had taken all the warmth with him, and she was freezing.

Amelia heard Ava Grace come back into the room. Her
best friend knelt beside the chair, smoothing her hand over Amelia’s hair before resting her head against Amelia’s.

“Did I hear that right? Quinn calls you Juice?”

Amelia laughed at the confirmation that Ava Grace had indeed eavesdropped. But then her laughter stuttered to a stop, and she burst into tears.

Quinn dragged himself up the steps of his Victorian, the muscles in his legs limp like spaghetti. He had been wide awake at four a.m., and he’d figured he might as well go for a run.

The insomnia he had experienced during the trip to Georgia had intensified now that he was home. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep until he’d indulged in a little self-pleasure, recalling the maple syrup he had poured on Amelia after they had finished Sunday brunch in the suite.

It was Wednesday morning, and he’d been away from her for a little less than seventy-two hours. Apparently, the actual number of hours didn’t matter because he felt as if he was about to crawl out of his skin. He was a little ashamed at how pathetic he felt and more than a little worried that Amelia had so much influence over his emotional well-being.

He let himself into his house, and as he made his way to the staircase, he saw Cal asleep in the leather club chair in the living room, his feet propped on the ottoman in front of him.

Cal’s tablet computer was balanced precariously on his lap, and Quinn removed it as quietly as he could. He placed it on the coffee table before grabbing the cashmere throw from the sofa and draping it over him.

His brother looked worn out, his face shadowed with stubble and his eyes ringed with dark circles. Things had to be bad with Saika if Cal sat in Quinn’s living room when it was barely five thirty in the morning.

He made his way upstairs and took his time in the shower, letting the hot water pour over his tight muscles. He’d done a lot of thinking since he had left Amelia in Nashville, not only about his feelings for her but also about the women’s division.

He’d made some big decisions, and he didn’t want to have those conversations with her via Skype or phone. He was considering a trip to Nashville early next week.

Grabbing the shampoo, he lathered his hair. Amelia planned to attend the American Association of Country Music awards on Tuesday. Maybe he could surprise her and attend the show with her. He made a mental note to ask Teagan for Ava Grace’s phone number to see if his idea was feasible.

He finished with his shower and dressed quickly before heading downstairs. Cal was still asleep, and he made his way to the kitchen where he found a box of pastries and a couple of to-go coffees. He was lucky to have a brother who still managed to be thoughtful even when he was going through some serious personal shit.

He grabbed the coffee and a cream cheese Danish and settled himself on the barstool before powering up his laptop. He was still behind on the work he had ignored while he’d been in Georgia, and he made a serious dent in some of his backlogged emails by the time Cal woke up and ambled into the kitchen with his tablet in hand.

“Hey,” Quinn said.

Cal grunted before depositing the tablet on the island. He scratched his chest through his long-sleeve T-shirt and dug in the box of pastries until he found one he liked. He bit into the pastry, almost halving it in one bite.

Pushing aside his laptop, Quinn leaned his elbows on the bar. He caught Cal’s eyes.

“I know guys aren’t supposed to talk about their feelings, Cal, but you need to tell me what’s going on with Saika. You’re miserable, and maybe we can figure out how to fix things if we tackle the problem together.”

Cal choked on his pastry. He grabbed his coffee, taking a big gulp of it. He swallowed noisily.

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Cal asked, depositing the pastry and coffee back on the island.

“Very funny, asshole. Now out with it.”

Sighing loudly, Cal massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “Saika’s ex-husband has decided to move here. He says he wants to be closer to Valerie, but I know what the fucker really wants. He wants his family back.”

Quinn tried to recall what little he knew about Saika’s ex-husband. He didn’t know much more than the fact that they had divorced when Valerie had been a baby.

“What’s his name? You told me once, but the only thing I remember is that it was something weird.”

Cal rolled his eyes. “Noble. His name is Noble, like he’s some kind of fucking prince charming or something.”

The name jarred loose another fact, and Quinn snapped his fingers. “And he’s in the military, right?”

Cal nodded. “Yeah, I guess he’s some big-shot Navy SEAL. The dickhead.” He snorted. “She said she was going to talk to him when she visited her sister in Southern California, and I didn’t handle it well.”

Quinn gave him a minute before prodding him. “And?”

“And when she got back, I asked her what happened, and she kept changing the subject. Finally, she told me it was none of my business.”

He winced, but Cal wasn’t done. “Then a few days later, she told me that he had resigned his commission and found a job at one of the corporate security firms here in San Francisco. His job was the main reason why they split up.” He swallowed. “She’s still in love with the bastard. She denies it, but I can tell that she is.”

Cal looked down. “I’m going to lose her. Her and Valerie.”

Quinn sighed. Now that he had fallen in love with Amelia, he had a lot more empathy for his brother. He couldn’t imagine how crazed he would be if he had to compete with another guy for her affection. He didn’t have any competition, and he still questioned her feelings for him.

“Are you in love with Saika, Cal?”

Cal’s whole body tensed. “Yeah.”

“Have you told her that you love her?”

“Of course. I tell her all the time.”

Quinn was bewildered. “Why would you do that if you don’t think she loves you back?”

“Because I love Saika regardless of whether she loves me, and not saying it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. Before her fucking ex-husband came back into the picture, I’d planned to ask her to marry me.”

He sucked in a surprised breath. He’d had no idea Cal had considered marriage.

“What are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Cal answered flatly. “I can’t make her love me. I can’t make her stay with me.”

Quinn was overwhelmed with sadness for his brother. “No, you can’t,” he agreed. “But what if you . . .”

Cal held up his hands. “Quinn, I appreciate that you’re trying to be a good brother, but I’m done talking about this.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Cal pointed at him. “And you . . . you’ve got your own relationship problems to work through, don’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

Cal laughed softly. “Come on, Quinn. Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself.”

He eyed his brother. “Maybe you’re right. So what do you think I should do?”

“First of all, you should man up and tell Amelia that you’re in love with her,” Cal suggested with a smile. “And then you should go buy a ring, brother, because you’re not going to rest easy until you’ve tied her to you in every way you can think of. Getting her pregnant is the next step.”

His whole body jerked at Cal’s statement, and he knocked over his coffee. Dark liquid spilled across the bar, but he just sat there as it dribbled down the sides of soapstone.

Cal grabbed a handful of paper towels and mopped up the mess. He threw the sopping paper into the trash can before turning toward him.

He chuckled when he saw the look on Quinn’s face. “I guess you hadn’t progressed that far yet.”

Quinn shook his head. “No. But I was close,” he admitted.

Soon after he had realized he was in love with Amelia,
he’d thought about what that meant for the long term. He wasn’t an impulsive guy. He liked to consider all the pros and cons, mulling over different strategies until he felt comfortable with his decision. In fact, he was more risk-averse than most people, probably because he felt responsible for all the men and women who worked for Riley O’Brien & Co., along with their families.

When it came to Amelia, though, his logical, problem-solving side shut down, and his emotions ruled. Letting them take the lead wasn’t easy, but when it came right down to it, he wasn’t afraid of commitment.

His parents had shown him how great marriage could be with the right person, and he had no doubt Amelia was the one for him. He just didn’t know if she thought
he
was the one for
her
.

Cal speared him with his icy blue gaze. “I know you’re scared shitless right now, but you need to tell Amelia. You’re fucked up because you don’t know how she feels. Just think of how happy you’ll be when she tells you that she loves you, too.”

He tapped his fingers on the bar. Cal was right about at least one thing: he
was
fucked up. But he’d be even worse off if Amelia didn’t love him back.

He broke out in a cold sweat as he imagined baring his soul to her. She might give him a look of pity before saying she was sorry because she just didn’t feel the same way.

It would destroy him.