Start Me Up (4 page)

“Ladies,” the host said with a charming purr, sweeping his hand toward a table that overlooked the street outside.

“Thank you,” Lori said, trying not to giggle like a teenager when he winked at her.

“Paul will be your server tonight, but I’m Marcus. Please let me know if there’s anything else
I
can do for you.”

“We will, thanks.”

By the time she’d settled into the chair he held out, arranging her skirts carefully so they wouldn’t get wrinkled, Lori could feel that Molly was about to burst. She looked up to find her grinning over her clasped hands.

“You look so pretty. And you’re glowing, Lori!”

“Maybe I put on too much blush.”

“Maybe you’re in heat!” Her eyes dropped lower. “My God I’m a genius. That dress is perfect for your body.”

“Thank you for helping me. I even look like I have boobs.”

“How crazy is that?”

Lori kicked her with one brand-new shoe.

“All right, I’ll be serious. You look gorgeous, so keep an eye out. There isn’t a man here who’d be able to resist you.”

“
That’s
being serious? I’m ridiculously short, I’ve got a face like a grumpy pixie, and there’s black grease under my nails.”

“You look like a
hot
pixie tonight, darling. And everybody knows that pixies are little whores.”

“Hey, I think I read that book!” They were both snorting quite unsexily when the waiter came to take their drink order.

When he hurried away, Molly went suddenly wide-eyed. “Oh, my God. Look!”

Lori swung around, and immediately spotted the person who’d caused Molly’s shock. He was handsome, tall, and he had exquisite hands, though she couldn’t see them from this far away. Quinn was standing next to a table on the other side of the restaurant, a napkin clutched in his fist, and his eyes locked on…Lori.

Her heart flipped as she spun back to stare down at her silverware. When she’d first looked at herself in the mirror at the store, she’d had a brief, mad wish that she’d run into Quinn tonight. And here he was. Maybe she
was
a pixie.

When she noticed Molly smiling up as if her brother were getting closer, her heart fluttered.

Where the hell were those drinks? Flirting with a stranger was one thing, but now she had the acute sense that she looked foolish. A fraud. A sow’s ear trying very hard to become a silk purse, or whatever that damn expression was. She pulled nervously at a curl and wondered if she’d already licked all her lipstick off.

“Hey, Quinn!” Molly said, and Lori nearly knocked her bottle of mineral water over.

When he didn’t reply, she couldn’t stand the suspense and had to look up…straight into his hazel eyes. “Lori?” he breathed. Heat climbed up her chest, burning all the way up to her hairline.

“Hey,” she managed to croak. It didn’t help that he looked unbelievably elegant. His dark gray suit was set off perfectly by a white shirt and silver-green tie. He’d seemed like plain old Quinn this morning, but she was abruptly reminded that his life was a world away from hers.

“Hellooo?” Molly interrupted. “I’m Molly, your loving sister.”

“Hey, Moll.” His eyes didn’t leave Lori’s. “What did you do to Lori?”

“Got her horny with my award-winning writing.”

“Gah,” Lori choked, and broke free of Quinn’s eyes to shoot an outraged glare at Molly. Her friend grinned in response, but her mouth got more serious when she looked up to Quinn, then down to Lori and back up again.

“Why?” she drawled. “What did
you
do to Lori?”

He opened his mouth but didn’t say a word, then seemed to shake off whatever shock he’d been laboring under. “You look beautiful, Lori. Really amazing. I’m afraid my new client thinks I’ve got epilepsy now. I choked on a piece of jicama when you walked in.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

“That color is amazing. Like blue steel.”

“I…just…”

Molly tapped his arm. “Quinn, that blonde is waving at you. I think she’s pissed.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’d better go. It’s probably not professional to get caught drooling on my mechanic. I’ll see you soon, all right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

Despite his words, he stood staring at her for so long that she got dizzy from holding her breath. Then he grinned and walked back to the fancy world where he belonged.

Lori couldn’t help but watch him the whole way, and goose bumps rose on her skin when he turned halfway to his table and winked at her.

“Lori,” Molly said in a very steady voice. Suspiciously steady.

Bracing herself, she turned back to face the scrutiny. “Hmm?”

“Lori, are you interested in being spanked by
my brother?
”

Hot and cold rushed over her at the same time; she leaned forward, almost landing her chin in the pomegranate martini she hadn’t even seen arrive. “You are the worst friend in the world!” she whispered. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that!”

Molly seemed unfazed. She lifted her glass and took a sip, eyes unwavering in their focus. “You were just asking me about dirty things, Lori Love. Remember? And then Quinn walks over here and stares at you like you’re a raspberry truffle dipped in honey cream.”

“He…A what?”

“I’m sorry. That was too much, huh? Too erotica-y? Too much creamy goodness?”

Lori wrapped her fingers around the stem of her martini glass. “God, you are strange.”

“Don’t change the subject. Do you want to do dirty things with my brother or not?”

“No!” Her brain seemed to vibrate at the word, like an internal lie-detector test. “Of course not. I just fixed his backhoe. That’s it.”

“Got his engine running?”

“Stop it.”

“Hey!” Molly protested. “I could’ve said something about being a hoe, but I didn’t.”

Frustration built up inside her, but when it boiled over, it just disappeared, steam spreading out into the air. The curses she wanted to yell morphed into laughter, and she collapsed against the linen tablecloth. “Can’t you ever be serious?” she gasped.

“I’m working on it, I swear. But I have to save it all up for Ben so he won’t lose his mind. You only have to tolerate me for short periods. Suck it up. Anyway, I’m supposed to be showing you a good time, remember?”

What could she do but nod? Molly was her best friend, and her life had been one long gray haze before Molly had returned to Tumble Creek last year. It had been so much less gray since. “Okay, I suppose I can tolerate you. By the way…Did Quinn say he was drooling?”

A smile started small on Molly’s lips, but it gradually spread into a wide grin. Her eyes sparkled like happy jewels. “That,” she answered, “is exactly what he said.”

Lori polished off her drink and then stared down into the empty glass. She tried even breathing, but it didn’t seem to work. “I-think-I-want-to-do-dirty-things-with-Quinn,” she forced out, and then raised her heavy gaze to Molly’s. “But I can’t.”

The sparkle left her friend’s eyes and she finally got serious. “Why? I admit, we won’t be able to gossip about the details, but I don’t have any objection otherwise.”

“He’s your brother.”

Molly placed both her hands flat on the table and leaned slowly forward. “I only have circumstantial evidence,” she whispered, “but I’m almost certain he’s not a virgin.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m not looking for a relationship, I just want to use someone for sex.”

A throat cleared from somewhere just over her shoulder. When she turned to see the waiter standing there, she wasn’t even embarrassed, just incredibly relieved it wasn’t Quinn.

“Shall I give you another moment?” He was turning away before Lori finished explaining that they hadn’t looked at the menus yet.

“He’s very tense,” Molly said.

“Well, then he shouldn’t walk up on people so quietly.”

“No, I meant
Quinn.
Quinn’s very tense. I think he could handle being used. Might be good for him. He has trouble sleeping.”

“I’m not going to use your brother! And I don’t think he’s volunteering.”

“Oh, he’s volunteering,” Molly scoffed. “I think he’s ready to have his tires rotated, if you know what I mean.”

“No, I
don’t
know what you mean. Is that supposed to be sexy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, I can see we’re moving away from serious here.” Lori sighed. “So let me put this simply. I’m looking for a little fun. No attachment. And definitely not someone I’ll see all the time afterward. Quinn is not an option.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “How many times have you seen Quinn in the past decade? Five or six times?”

“Are you determined to pimp your brother out?”

She slumped and waved a dismissive hand. “Fine. Never mind. Whatever you do, don’t sleep with Quinn. Anyway, you’ve got another option. Our waiter is talking to the maître d’—I think he’s passing on your secret message.”

Lori twisted around to find both men smiling in her direction. Great. She suddenly felt less like a powerful sexual creature and more like prey. She’d exposed her soft underbelly, now one of them would move in for the kill.

Finally picking up her menu, Lori just shook her head. “I think heels and a dress are enough for this weekend. I’ll cross the sex bridge next week.”

“Oo, the sex bridge,” Molly murmured, looking over her own menu. “All right, we’ll see how that works out. By the way, Ben said to tell you he might stop by the shop on Monday.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought it was something to do with his truck, but now that I know about your dad, I’m not sure. Just make sure you’re not standing on the sex bridge when he gets there. He might accidentally get on it, and wouldn’t
that
be embarrassing?”

Picturing Ben catching her in a compromising position, Lori burst into laughter. He’d had enough embarrassment via Molly over the past year, and she didn’t want to put him through any more, but the thought still struck her as hilarious.

Enough with worrying about men. Tonight she was going to have fun. Let the boys watch from afar. And maybe…maybe even drool a little.

Speaking of spying…Maybe it was creepy of him to stand outside unannounced.

So he said, “Hey, Lori,” and then watched her head rise into a quick and nasty crash with the truck’s hood. “Damn,” he rasped, rushing forward to help. The cursing started again, which would have made him smile if he weren’t worried about her skull.

“Are you okay?”

As she clutched the top of her head, Quinn eased his hands around her waist and lowered her to the ground. “Are you bleeding?”

She slapped his hands away and cursed some more. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry. You want some ice? Let’s get some ice.”

“I don’t…” Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, fine.” She led the way through the garage and into the house, fingers gingerly exploring her scalp the whole way. “I think it’s all right actually.”

But Quinn didn’t pay any attention; he was busy inhaling the scent of home-cooked food. “My God, that smells good. I was going to ask if you wanted to go grab dinner, but you’ve already got plans, I guess.”

He glanced over to find her staring at him, hand still pressed to her head. “Dinner?”

“Yeah. You’ve already got something in the oven?”

“Yes.”

When she didn’t offer anything more, Quinn felt his stomach sink. “So you’re busy?”

She looked from him to the oven, her green eyes wide with…anxiety? Strange. “No, I’m not busy.”

Well, she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but he didn’t plan on giving up that easily. He’d been thinking about Lori Love since yesterday afternoon in his cabin. He’d been thinking
seriously
about her since last night.

“It smells delicious, did I mention that?”

She finally lost her shocked expression and smiled, rolling her eyes at his obviousness. He’d never claimed to be slick with women.

“Fine, Quinn Jennings. Since I’ve already cooked dinner, would you like to stay and help me eat it?”

“That’s a fantastic idea! I’d love to. Now let’s get some ice.”

“My head feels fine. I’ve got a thick skull. And lots of hair.” She glanced at the clock as she balanced a boot on a kitchen chair to loosen the laces. “It’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes. Just give me a second to change. There’s beer in the fridge.”

His shoulders had already begun to turn toward the ancient beige fridge when his eye caught the motion of her hand rising toward her zipper. He changed direction, turning back toward Lori as she moved the zipper down. The coveralls gaped, and Quinn watched, entranced, as a white tank top was exposed.

At that point, he half expected her to step out of her uniform wearing nothing but a thin white tank and a pair of panties. But Lori tugged the coveralls down with no ceremony, revealing a faded pair of jeans. And the tank top wasn’t that thin, either. Damn.

Seemingly unaware of his train of thought, Lori toed off her boots, pulled off the coveralls, and tossed them over the chair before heading for the bedroom.

Her walk seemed captured on a slow-motion camera; Quinn imagined her hips swaying in nothing but a pair of skimpy blue panties and reached blindly for the handle of the fridge door. He needed a drink. He might not be better with women with a beer or two under his belt, but he forgot how bad he was, at any rate.

After popping a bottle open for Lori, he downed half of his in a few quick swallows. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? Looking to ruin a perfectly good friendship? His track record with relationships so far was zero and…Hell, he didn’t even know the number, which proved the point. But every time he put down his work lately, he started thinking about her and that smile.

Lori Love was an enigma. Though she and Molly had been friends in school, they hadn’t been best friends. Molly had been popular and slightly flighty, while Lori had embodied the stereotype of the scholarly girl. Nose always in a book, extracurricular activities planned with an eye toward college applications, or so Molly had claimed. Lori had studied hard and spent her free time working in Love’s Garage. Quinn had no idea what had happened to her after that, except that she’d gone to Boston College on a full scholarship, then come home when her dad was injured.

And now she seemed like a typical female mechanic, if there was such a thing.

Wandering into the living room, Quinn let his architect’s eye take in the lines of the fifties construction. Nothing had been changed since the original build as far as he could tell. He wasn’t even sure the walls had been painted since then. Certainly the decor hadn’t been updated. Nothing here, absolutely nothing, gave him any clue as to who Lori had become.

Ancient bowling trophies crowded the mantel above the moss rock fireplace. A lamp made from a bowling pin sat on an unremarkable oak table. The couch was frat-house chic.

This was her father’s house, plain and simple. But her father had died over a year ago. Was it grief that kept her from making the place her own? Quinn raised the dusty blinds on one of the small windows and found a view of the garage yard. The sad sight burned through his stomach. He could see why she kept the windows closed.

A creaking floorboard alerted him to her presence, and when he turned, Quinn forgot about old decor and broken-down cars. Her jeans and tank were gone, replaced with white capris and a flirty little red shirt that showed off her shoulders. She chewed on her lip and tugged a few brown curls into compliance. He let his eyes slide all the way down to her bare feet…and bright red toenails.

“Nice toes,” he said stupidly, and watched them curl against the carpet. Clearly he needed to finish the beer. Who the hell told a girl she had nice
toes?

When she’d had enough of him staring at her feet, Lori spun for the kitchen and opened the oven. “Another few minutes,” she muttered. “I’ll make the salad.” By “make,” she apparently meant “get out the bag” because she cut open a plastic bag and dumped the salad into two bowls while Quinn smiled at her back.

Her shoulders were straight and beautifully pale, brushed by shiny, bouncy curls as she moved. He caught her profile as she went back to the fridge for salad dressing and couldn’t help but lose himself in the careful line of her throat and chest. Her breasts were small, but they rose in a graceful curve that drew the eye. No wonder she wore that baggy outfit at work. The men in her employ would get nothing done if she showed up like this.

“Do you want to go to The Bar after dinner?” he blurted out.

Her head popped up and she frowned. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t bring any wine.”

“And you think they’d have good wine at The Bar?”

Well, she had a point. The place was so old and crusty it didn’t even have a real name. “To Aspen then,” he corrected. “There’s a great wine bar on Hopkins Avenue.”

“Did you talk to Molly today?” Lori suddenly demanded.

“I—”

She cut him off by slamming the dressing bottle onto the counter. “Damn it, I told her I didn’t want to date you!”

Quinn wondered if the air conditioner had just kicked on with a vengeance. All the pleasant warmth of the evening vanished in an instant and left him in the freezing cold. “Really?”

“Yes!” Lori ran her hands over her face, then shook her head before she met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. I’d love to date you, honestly, but that’s not what I’m looking for right now.”

Now he was confused. That sounded a lot like, “It’s not you, it’s me,” except that they’d never even gone to lunch. “I see,” was all he could say.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered.

“Look, I just wanted to take you out for a drink, and maybe we could—”

“Whatever she told you, I am
not
going to use you for sex.”

The imaginary air conditioner switched off. So did his brain.

“Not that I wouldn’t love to!” she went on. “But it’s really about random, meaningless fun, not dating. I’m not in a good place for dating right now. I’m sorry you were dragged into this. She just won’t drop it.”

“Who?” he rasped.

“Molly! What did she tell you to get you over here?”

Quinn clutched the beer bottle tighter, feeling the smooth glass press his skin, grounding himself so that he could make his brain work. “Molly hasn’t called me in weeks.”

Though she’d been reaching for her own beer, Lori’s hand froze just an inch from the bottle. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

Her hand fell away to hover near her side. “That doesn’t…No. Why would you be here if Molly hadn’t called?”

Maybe she wasn’t as smart as he’d always thought. “Lori, I came over to ask you out. Period. It’s not that complicated.”

“Oh.” The pink started right at the skin just above her shirt and floated inexorably higher, past her collarbones, then up her neck to her jaw. Her cheeks flamed redder than the rest of her skin. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Very sure. But what were you saying about using me for sex?”

Her body tilted slightly to the left, then the right. Alarmed, Quinn was moving toward her, meaning to grab her elbow and help her to a seat, but the oven timer went off and the sound snapped her straight.

She moved stiffly to the oven, grabbed a hot pad, and in a moment she was standing at the counter, staring down at a perfectly roasted chicken and a loaf of hot bread. “Okay,” she said to the poultry. “Okay.”

“Lori—”

“No, just…Let’s have dinner. I’m sorry there’s not more. I was just going to have a salad and…Oh, Jesus.”

Quinn let silence fall, utterly unsure of how he should proceed. His thoughts were ping-ponging back and forth, running into each other like drunk kids in a mosh pit. When Lori moved, grabbing plates to set the table, he jumped on the opportunity to give them both time and took her beer and the bottle of dressing.

Sex. Lori Love wanted sex.

He grabbed the salads and carried them over while Lori brought the chicken.

No dating. Just sex. Nothing else.

He watched her hips as she hurried back to the fridge and let himself imagine. Sex. With Lori. The images came easy and quick.

Once the food was served and all the busywork ran out, they both lowered themselves slowly into chairs and looked anywhere but at each other as they dug into the salad.

Though he’d never been into meaningless sex, Quinn wasn’t above liking the idea of it. And, actually, it would solve one of the more serious problems in his life: he was a terrible boyfriend. Seriously bad. Out of all the women he’d dated, not one had been happy for more than a month.

He forgot things, important things like dates and birthdays. On the phone, he had the attention span of a gnat. Worked late more often than not and liked to read books about engineering when he got home. It was a sad measure of a relationship when a woman grew jealous of
New Physics in Architecture.

Quinn started on the chicken.

Considering his track record, asking Lori out in the first place had probably been idiotic. But if they kept it meaningless and casual…None of his shortcomings would matter, would they? They’d simply go their separate ways, some very nice memories between them.

A few minutes later, Quinn set down his fork and raised his eyes. Lori kept chewing for a few moments, until she noticed his attention and swallowed hard.

“What?” she asked.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Relief softened the anxiety on her face, but her smile popped into place with too much brightness. “No! No, of course not. I was obviously joking. Duh.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He stared at her until she squirmed, then stared some more.

Her smile vanished.
“What?”

“Because if you weren’t joking—and I don’t think you were—then I’d like to volunteer.”

“Volunteer?” she breathed. “For what?”

Quinn took a deep breath and placed his hands flat on the table for balance. “I’d like to have meaningless sex with you, Lori Love.”