Love, Diamonds, and Spades (5 page)

“Don’t switch the subject to me,” she said quickly. “You say you’re just a local musician but I’ve heard you hang out with some bigger musicians when they’re in town for concerts, and you’ve even opened for a few.”

A slow grin overtook his features. “Been reading up on me, sweetheart?”

She felt her cheeks burn. “The town talks,” she evaded. It was the truth, everyone in town was completely nosy, but, in an entirely bizarre way. They didn’t gossip about the things she expected them to. For instance, they seemed to care a whole heck of a lot more about his weekly poker game than anything else, even his celebrity connections.

Thankfully, Rylan seemed to take her explanation at face value, and instead of teasing her into confessing that she
may
have googled him a little bit, he leaned against the wall and shrugged. “If you have questions, ask me. I’m an open book. A pretty dull book at that, if you’d let your imagination calm down for a bit to really take a closer look.”

Ha! The man was anything but dull. Studying him, she saw the sincerity in his expression and instantly, a thousand questions poised for fire on her lips. She chose the one that was gnawing at her gut the most.

“Has a fan ever wanted to have sex with you?”

He thought about that for a second. “No. But to clarify, I’m thinking you’re asking if a fan asked to have sex with me as purely a fan, not a woman looking to hook up, am I right?”

She frowned. “What’s the difference?”

“I meet a lot of women at Ocotillos who want to have sex, but not necessarily because they’re fans, or even because I’m a musician.”

Arrogant donkey’s tail.

When his lips twitched to the side, she realized she’d muttered her G-rated musings out loud.

“I try not to use curse words since Cooper likes to copy everything I say,” she defended, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

“Wasn’t judging,” he replied back, eyes still laughing. “And while I probably am a donkey’s tail, my momma would slap me silly if I were arrogant.”

She rolled her eyes. “You basically just told me you have women coming on to you because you’re hot, and not because you’re a musician.”

His brows lowered tiredly. “No, I said I meet a lot of women who want to have sex. Most of them have beer goggles on by the time the guys and I are done with our set that they tend to be almost blind to looks. Some even blind to wedding rings.”

The last statement came out so disgruntled, Quinn started in surprise. “The two married guys in your band…they’ve cheated on their wives?”

“Hell no.” His expression turned fierce. “They wouldn’t still be in my band if they did. And again, you’ve twisted my words to shine the light only on the male half of the equation. Some of these women just want to get laid. Doesn’t mean the guys and I take what they’re offering.”

So different from her ex and his friends.

“You must have met some real class acts to have such a low opinion of me and the guys,” he groused, again with that hard edge to his voice that made him sound almost…possessive.

“Back in the day,” she replied. “I guess it’s colored my view of musicians a little.” Looking up at him, she added earnestly, “But I don’t have a low opinion of you and the guys. Honest. You were all great with Cooper, and you helped so much with our Desert Confections video.” It was the absolute truth. Even with her automatic gut-roiling reaction to musicians, a part of her had recognized every guy in the band as good men—down to earth, hard-working and always kind to others. Suddenly, she felt ashamed for judging them at all, even Rylan with his fluffle of women.

“What in God’s name is a
fluffle
?” he asked sounding equal parts exasperated and amused.

Dammit! She needed to get her lips wired shut. “A fluffle…that’s what they call a group of rabbits in Canada.”

“Ah, a fluffle as in a fluffle of band bunnies.” Now all the frustration was overtaken by the amusement. “I think I’m a little flattered that you took the time to research obscure Canadian words to beef up your case against me.”

“I didn’t,” she replied swiftly. “I just...know a lot of random things.”

He gave her a knowing grin. “Okay, Miss Trivial Pursuit. I actually need to get back to work, but if you think of more questions for me, here’s my number.” He dropped his business card on the counter. “That’s my personal cell phone so don’t go selling it to the harem—I mean fluffle—of women who we both know would just scratch your eyes out for it. Just saying. I don’t want to start a stampede in town or nothing.”

“Fine, fine,” she huffed. “I get it. I jumped to conclusions about the groupie thing.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

She glowered at him, mostly because she was pretty sure this was jealousy she was feeling itching at the tips of her fingers.

“Retract your claws, hellcat. I meant there are a
few
band bunnies who would do all that you’ve seen and imagined. But I have absolutely no desire to get caught up in that. Not one bit.” He ran his eyes over her face. “Do you believe me?”

Why was it so easy to trust this man? “Yes,” she admitted, sounding confused over that even to herself.

“Not that I don’t find the jealousy thing pretty darn cute.”

She glared at him. No one ever called her
cute
. Why on earth was she liking it?

“Okay, sugar, now I really need to head out. Errands to run. You going to be sticking around here for a bit longer? Say a few more minutes?”

“Yes.” She studied him suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’m having a grand opening present delivered in a bit.”

“You got me a gift?” Besides Luke and her sister, no one ever got her gifts.

“Yep. I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it,” he said confidently as he headed out of the shop. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”

“Okay,” she replied automatically before she caught herself.

Wait. Tomorrow? If the whole ‘beautiful’ thing hadn’t hijacked her brain, she wouldn’t be standing here actually looking forward to ‘tomorrow.’ Whatever that meant.

“Quinn Christiansen?”
called out a loud voice from the door. “Delivery!”

What happened to ‘a few’ minutes?

She went up front to sign for the delivery and stopped in her tracks when she saw it.

It was a ginormous gift basket of beer.

She burst out laughing. The ass.

No guy would have
dared
to give her this kind of gift before.

She liked it.

And in defiance of all that was sane and smart, she was starting to like
him
, too.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE MAN WAS
driving her crazy.

Mainly because he wasn’t
actually
driving her crazy.

Quinn had to concede the fact that Rylan was actually a nice guy. A real-deal good guy, judging by all she’d been hearing about him lately…and it did sound like, weirdly, she was hearing his name a lot. At first, she thought it was one of those things like where you don’t notice any ugly Christmas sweaters during the holidays until you actually receive an ugly Christmas sweater—then you suddenly can’t un-see them all over the place.

Then
, she realized that Dani had somehow activated some sort of covert government-level matchmaking mission, and all her little sleeper agents around town were now on full deployment.

The CIA had nothing on her and her meddling.

At least a half dozen band flyers with Rylan looking crazy hot had been mysteriously slipped under the Desert Confections door the past few days. And well more than a dozen folks had
casually
found a way to bring him up in conversation yesterday alone…which had been a particularly impressive feat to see in action when she’d stood in line at the bank next to the Carradine sisters, two sweet old biddies from the town center who had somehow transitioned from talking about their menopause symptoms to Rylan in two seconds flat.

She would’ve sworn Rylan were behind it all if not for the one final damning clue.

Dani calling her up and just plain asking her why she wouldn’t date Rylan.

After muttering through a few standard single mom excuses that didn’t come off as convincing as she’d hoped—Dani was beyond direct—Quinn finally found herself blurting out the one biggest reason.

“He hasn’t asked me out.”

Did she mention the man was driving her crazy?

In the last two and a half weeks, he’d shown up every single day to chat with her and not once did he ask her out.

It’s not that she was arrogant enough to believe he
should
ask her out or anything of the sort, but if those heated glances he’d sometimes let her see, or even more dangerous, the affectionate ones, were any indication, he seemed interested in her. And most impressive of all, he didn’t seem the least bit scared of her.

Instead of turning tail and running far and fast away from her like most smart men, or hitting on her simply for the challenge she seemed to present to the stupid ones, he just came by every day to spend a few minutes with her, by all evidence happy just to talk…and listen.

He never asked her
any
of the standard questions that guys usually did. He never asked her what she liked to do for fun, or what her favorite food was. He asked about her day, he asked why she looked a little more stressed than the day prior.

And he took special pleasure in being charmingly aggravating, teasing, exasperating, and an overall goofball when and where he could.

It was all unnerving.

But rather great at the same time.

A few weeks ago, he’d begun buying a single piece of chocolate from the shop and handing it to her when he’d drop in each day, simply because she’d made the mistake of telling him on day one of his friendship crusade that she never indulged in any of the shop products. So ever since, he’d come in and talk while he selected a chocolate. Then he’d push it in front of her, and then be on his merry way, utterly shameless about riling her up before he left.

“You okay there, beautiful?” came the deep timber of Rylan’s voice, rough with concern. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it when a gorgeous woman is so blinded by my good looks that she can’t help staring but—”

Quinn blinked herself out of her thoughts and narrowed her eyes, doing her best to keep her smile hidden. How the man could get her to smile so easily was a complete mystery to her. “I wasn’t staring at you or your enormously big head.” Her eyes shot wide. “
Ego!
I meant enormously big ego.”

His grin turned almost wicked. “I don’t mind you talking about my big head at all. In fact, I like that you think about me and my big head.”

Don’t you dare blush, Quinn Christiansen!

“I don’t think about you or your big anything,” she lied shamelessly.

He shrugged. “That’s okay. I think about you enough to make up the difference.” Sliding a chocolate forward in her flummoxed silence, he gave her an atrociously sexy wink. “See you tomorrow, sunshine.”

She started to say something to stop him from leaving, for some reason not wanting him to go just yet.

Suddenly, he stopped. “Sweetheart, those eyes of yours are lethal weapons,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “I have a feeling I could get addicted to having your eyes on me like that.” His gaze brushed over her lips and then rose back to her eyes. “Hell, I’d be like a slot machine junkie looking for another adrenaline-pumping jackpot every minute of the day.”

His words served as the electric jolt she needed to fry the heated web she’d somehow allowed herself to get caught in, as he confirmed the one thing she’d heard about him in town that she wasn’t a fan of. “You gamble?” she asked as casually as she could.

He laughed. “I’ve never played a slot machine in my life.”

A tiny bit of hope glimmered in her belly. Maybe—

“That’s barely gambling,” he continued. “Now poker? That’s a different story. I’m always up for a game of poker.” Grinning, he added, “It isn’t really gambling unless skill and stakes are involved.”

The disappointment she felt crushing her lungs was a little startling. A musician she could deal with. A gambling musician like her ex? Hell no.

“I’ll see you around, Rylan.” She’d put the full frost of her iciest wicked witch of the west tone in that one sentence.

But instead of leaving, he stood there silently studying her for a moment.

“I won’t push,” he said gently. “But one day, I hope you’ll tell me why you thought you hated me as much as you did at first glance…why you’re trying to convince yourself to hate me right now.”

Damn, that sounded terrible. “I didn’t…I’m not…”