FLOWERS ON THE WALL (14 page)

Intrigued, Quinn tugged Ryder's hand until he looked her way. "Give me a for instance."

Leaning close, Ryder whispered three words in Quinn's ear.

"No."

"Yes."

Quinn glanced at the driver who had picked them up at the Indianapolis airport. She would have loved to question Ryder further, but some things were better left unsaid—until later when there was nobody to hear.

The black Cadillac slowed to a halt at the end of a wide cul-de-sac. The driveway leading to the house wasn't long. However, Quinn knew the backyard was huge. Cora liked to tell anyone who would listen about the amount of outdoor space. The swimming pool and tennis courts dwarfed anything owned by their neighbors. Though Cora used neither, she had bragging rights. Apparently, that was what mattered.

"Did you see the first season of
American Horror Story
?" Ryder nodded toward the house. "Avoid the basement."

Quinn was still laughing as she rang the doorbell. Ryder was right. Soon after their wedding, Michael had purchased the house at his new bride's request. The first time Quinn saw it, she knew there was something odd, but couldn't put her finger on what it was. Now, she knew.

The door flew open, and there stood Cora.

"Quinn. You made it."

"Hello, Cora. Happy birthday."

"That isn't until tomorrow, silly." Cora air-kissed in the direction of Quinn's face. "Don't make me thirty before my time."

It was all Quinn could do not to roll her eyes. For Cora, thirty was a sticking point. She had been stuck there for the last three years.

"You don't look a day older than when we met."

Which was true. Cora was petite. In heels, she barely reached Quinn's shoulders. With her long, bleached-blond ringlets and propensity to giggle, Cora looked and acted like a woman ten years younger. Why Michael Abernathy wanted that, Quinn didn't know. The less she thought about it, the better.

"And you look…," Cora batted her false eyelashes, looking Quinn up and down. "Well traveled."

Quinn knew that was an attempted dig. Since it was the best that Cora could manage, she hid her smile and nodded. She let Cora enjoy her moment. Quinn thought of it as an extra birthday present.

"Come in." Cora motioned for Quinn to follow. "Did you ask the driver to bring in your bags?"

"I…"

"I hope you don't mind taking the green room. It's not the one you had the last time you visited, but I didn't think you would mind something a bit smaller. My parents are coming. They need the extra space."

Quinn waited to see if Cora had more to say. When nothing came, she shook her head.

"That will be fine, Cora. Dad told you I was bringing a guest, didn't he?"

It was obvious from her expression that this was the first time Cora had heard of it. Quinn should have known. It was how her father operated. In one ear and out the other—unless it was something he deemed important.

"If it's an inconvenience—"

"Not at all." Give Cora credit, her recovery time was stellar. "What is the situation between you and your… girlfriend?"

"Are you asking if my lesbian lover and I want to share a room?"

"Well? Do you?"

Cora's eyes practically danced with glee. In her world, same-sex relationships were something to be ashamed of. Quinn was extremely grateful that she didn't live in Cora's world.

"I'm afraid I'm not a lesbian. Can I still share Quinn's room?"

The expression on Cora's face when she saw Ryder was one for the ages. Thank goodness Quinn's camera was never far from her hands. Pulling it from the bag slung over her shoulder, Quinn focused and snapped the shot. Christmas card material, no doubt.

"Is that…? Are you…?"

"Ryder Hart. And you must be Cora."

In a daze, Cora took Ryder's outstretched hand. "I am," she gushed. "And you are Ryder Hart."

"I apologize for crashing your birthday celebration, Cora. I completely understand if you don't have room in your lovely home."

Quinn stood back and watched a master at work. Ryder knew how to charm. She already knew that. In seconds, he had Cora eating out of his hand. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was a world-famous rock star. Or that Cora was obviously a fan.

"Oh, no. There is plenty of room." Cora kept Ryder's hand grasped in hers long past the introductory stage of their meeting. "The blue room has a wonderful view of the backyard."

The blue room
.
The one Cora had given to her parents
. Quinn wondered how Cora's parents would feel about getting kicked out to accommodate Ryder Hart.

"Blue looks good on you," Ryder smiled at Quinn.

"My room is green."

"There is no need to crowd you into the same room." Cora reluctantly let Ryder reclaim sole ownership of his hand. "Besides, the blue room has an attached bath."

"The truth is, Cora," Ryder lowered his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "When Quinn told me she was coming here, I invited myself. I know that's pushy, but I wanted to be with her. I'm sure you know how it is when you can't stand the thought of being away from someone—even for a few days. If you give us separate rooms, I will have to sneak in with Quinn every night. Then sneak out in the morning."

"Oh." Cora's high spirits seemed to deflate.

"Perhaps Cora has a moral objection to us sharing a room."

When Ryder's surprised gaze met hers, Quinn shrugged. She didn't know why she had said it. The words came out before she could stop them. To Cora's credit, she didn't take the chance to keep Ryder's virtue intact.

"Naturally, I have no objection." Cora plastered her best hostess smile on her face. "I'm certain you will both be very comfortable in the blue room. I'll have your luggage taken up."

"Thank you for being so understanding." Ryder gave Cora his most dazzling smile.

With a sigh, Cora nodded. "We are having drinks on the lanai."

"Ryder and I will join you in a few minutes, Cora, after we freshen up."

Since Quinn had been there before, Cora left them to find their way to their room.

"Wait a second," Quinn said when Ryder would have started up the stairs. She looked at the bottom of her shoe, then did the same to the other.

"Is there a problem?" Ryder looked puzzled.

"Just checking to see if I had stepped in any of the bullshit you dished out."

"It wasn't bullshit; it was natural charm," Ryder informed her.

"Please." Quinn laughed as they walked up the huge
Gone With the Wind
-inspired staircase. "The only reason the crap didn't pile up is that Cora ate it up with a spoon faster than you could dish it out."

"Your stepmother is an
interesting
woman."

"And a big fan of yours. With the slightest encouragement, she could be yours." Quinn turned left at the top of the stairs. At the end of the hall, she opened a set of French doors. "I would have found her overt fawning humorous if she weren't married to my father."

"It was a bit much."

"You handled her perfectly." Quinn shut the door before walking into Ryder's waiting arms. "Thank you. And I'm sorry."

"Please. You had no way of anticipating Cora's behavior." Ryder kissed Quinn's cheek. "Compared to some of the female fans I've encountered, she was nothing."

"Right now you should be sipping a Mai Tai and rubbing on sunscreen. Cora is nobody's idea of a vacation."

"I wanted to spend time with you." Ryder looked her in the eyes. "I want to get to know you, Quinn. Here. On a beach. It doesn't matter where we start."

"We scratched the itch. Now you want more?"

Quinn held her breath, waiting for the answer that might change her life.

"I guess I do." Ryder looked a bit bemused. "How do you feel about that?"

"Does that go both ways?" Quinn had to ask. "Are you going to let me in, Ryder?"

Ryder ran a hand over the stubble on his face. He paced, stopping to look out the window. "You can ask me anything, Quinn."

"Will you tell me anything?"

"I don't know." Taking a deep breath, Ryder turned toward her. Slowly, as though gathering his thoughts, he exhaled. "I've never met anyone like you, Quinn. You have questions and damned if I don't want to give you the answers. But I've guarded my secrets for so long. There are things nobody knows."

"Not Zoe? Or Dalton?"

"Or Ashe," Ryder finished for her. "It's—"

"Trust." Quinn nodded. She understood how hard that could be. "It's a Catch-22. I can swear I'll never betray you. But how can you be certain unless you trust me with your secrets?"

Taking Quinn's face between his hands, Ryder rested his forehead against hers. "I want to trust you."

"Let's start slowly. I'm an open book." Quinn put a warm kiss on Ryder's left wrist. Then turned her head, kissing the other. "Ask me anything. Just to break the ice? The touch of polyester against my skin gives me the willies."

Ryder smiled. When Quinn looked in his eyes, she found them filled with warmth and humor. "It could be dangerous to arm me with that kind of information."

"I trust you not to use it against me."

Understanding, Ryder nodded. Baby steps. Quinn didn't expect him to reveal everything in one emotion-packed rush. She didn't expect anything. But she hoped he would start to let her in. How much was ultimately up to him.

"Remember the night we met?"

"How could I forget?"

"My knee hurt like a bitch, and you asked what happened?"

Quinn nodded. Reaching up, she gripped Ryder's hand. He was about to take step number one, and she wanted him to know that she was a safe place for him to land.

"It isn't an old war wound."

"No? Really?" Quinn teased.

Ryder's lips twitched, but a smile wasn't coming. He swallowed.

"It was caused by a baseball bat."

"Your father?"

Ryder nodded. His eyes searched hers—looking for what, Quinn couldn't have said. She wanted to say something deep and meaningful and comforting. She wanted to be wise and insightful. She wanted to find the words that would heal Ryder's wounds and take away his pain.

The last thing Quinn wanted was for tears to well up in her eyes or to let loose with a string of the foulest words that had ever passed her lips. However, what she wanted and what actually happened, didn't always coincide.

"Sorry." Quinn wiped her eyes. "I have never reacted that way in my life."

"Don't apologize." To Quinn's amazement, Ryder was laughing—hard. "When it comes to swearing, I thought I had heard it all. However, you managed to put together some truly unique combinations."

"Oh, God." Cheeks burning, Quinn turned away. "I asked for you to tell me something personal and when you do, I cry and curse."

"And made me laugh." Ryder slid his hands around her waist, pulling her close until her back was flush with his chest. "In a million years, I wouldn't have thought that was possible."

"I wanted to comfort you."

"You did," Ryder whispered against her ear. "In the best way possible. Thank you."

RYDER WATCHED QUINN from across the patio. He refused to call it a lanai. If they had been in Hawaii, that would have been different. However, this was the freaking Midwest, and he knew a pretentious load of crap when it was dumped at his feet.

As if sensing his gaze, Quinn looked Ryder's way and smiled. A burst of warmth shot through his body, settling in the vicinity of his heart.
Damn
. Unconsciously, he rubbed his chest. Something had happened between them in that bedroom. There had been a shift. A change inside of him. But Ryder wasn't ready to figure out what it was.

One thing Ryder did know. Quinn was in his life. Not for today or the next few weeks. She had become important. He could count on one hand the number of people he called a friend. It was a small, tight group. Ryder had thought the number finite. Set in stone.

It had taken someone special to change his mind. And in a short amount of time. It had taken Quinn.

Ryder shouldn't have been surprised. His friendship with Dalton and Ashe happened in a flash. A meeting of like-minded musicians. One gig and that had been it. A band was born. Zoe had been an easy addition. She was his little sister. And soon his friends thought of her the same way. They had ten years of ups and downs. Hardships and triumphs.

This thing with Quinn was new, but, just as with Zoe, and Dalton, and Ashe, Ryder knew in his soul that she would be his friend for the rest of his life.

"I thought about pursuing a singing career. My father pushed me toward secretarial school."

Cora had been speaking non-stop for what seemed like an eternity. Ryder wasn't required to respond beyond the occasional nod. Absently, he did just that.

"Who knows, we might have recorded a huge hit song together." Cora twirled a lock of blond hair around her finger. "Not that I regret my decision. I love Michael. And he adores me."

"I'm certain that Michael's gain was the music industry's loss." Ryder decided if he were going to escape, this was the moment. "Excuse me, Cora. I need to speak to Quinn."

"She has you all the time," Cora said with a pout. She reached for him with her long, pale-pink claws, but he backed away just in time.

"You know how it is. We can't keep our hands off each other."

Cora stomped her foot as she watched Ryder hurry across the lanai and slide an arm around Quinn's waist.

"Actually," she muttered, "I have no idea how it is. But I would love to find out."

"What was that, cupcake?" Michael joined her, a glass of single malt in one hand and a lit cigar in the other.

"You know those are bad for you," Cora said automatically. Michael only had a small part of her attention. Her interest lay with Ryder Hart.

"A few puffs and a sip or two. Where's the harm?"

"Fine, honey." Cora patted Michael's hand.

Michael frowned. He liked to complain when Cora nagged him about his health, but the truth was, he expected it as his due. He paid the bills. She fawned. That was their unwritten deal. He followed her gaze.
Ryder Hart. He should have known.

"He's just a man, Cora."

"He's gorgeous." Realizing who she was speaking to, Cora gave her husband her breathiest laugh. Brushing her breasts against his arms, she sighed, "But you are the most handsome man I've ever met."