Quinn (The Beck Brothers #3) (10 page)

~~~~~

The day seemed to drag on, and by five o’clock, Margot was
ready to go home. Quinn helped her out to his car and drove her home. She lived
in a condo she bought on the waterfront, with a beautiful view of the Delaware
River and the Ben Franklin Bridge. It did not come cheap, but it was so worth
it. Quinn parked in her visitor parking spot and helped her out of the car. He
followed her to her condo, carrying her purse and portfolio that she wanted to
bring home and look through. All the while, Quinn was quiet. He never said a
word about their earlier kiss, and he refused to speak about what he and Peter
talked about.

Margot unlocked her door and walked into her condo. Quinn
followed, shutting the door behind him. They moved past the small entry hallway
and into the main living area, which combined the living room and kitchen into
one great room. He went over and put her purse and portfolio on the dining room
table then glanced around.

“This is nice,” were the first words out of his mouth in
hours.

Margot smiled tightly. “Thank you.”

This morning, Quinn picked her up in the lobby so he did not
see her condo yet. “You may go look around if you like,” Margot said and
crutched her way into the kitchen.

Quinn sent her a wary glance. “Are you sure?” he asked.

She nodded. “Oui. I am sure, everything is clean and tidy.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about that,” he
muttered as he started toward the hallway where the two bedrooms, bathroom, and
the laundry room were.

Margot went to the fridge to pull out the chicken that she
was going to cook for dinner. She placed it on the island counter next to the stove,
grabbing the rest of the stuff she needed to make chicken parmesan. She was
just about to tear open the chicken package when Quinn returned.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Margot looked up to find him strolling into the kitchen with
a disapproving frown on his face. “I was going to make dinner. Would you like
to stay?” she asked.

“I’ll stay, but you need to go sit. I’ll cook,” Quinn said
as he came around the island counter to stand next to her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You know how to make chicken
parm?”

“I do, now go sit. Your foot should be elevated,” he said.

Margot pouted. “But I have been sitting all day, I am tired
of it.”

Quinn moved so that he was standing behind her. He was so
close that Margot could feel the heat from his body on her back. One arm slid
around her waist while he used the other hand to sweep her hair away from the
sight side of her neck. She closed her eyes when she felt his warm breath on
her now bare neck.

“Would you rather I take you to bed?” Quinn whispered, his
lips brushing against her neck.

Margot stifled a shiver of pleasure.
Oh, oui…
she wanted him to take her to bed, but...

“Is that all you want from me?” she asked quietly in return.

Quinn stiffened behind her but he did not pull away. She was
not sure if it was a good sign or bad.

“I...no…it’s not, but I really don’t know what I can offer
you in a relationship,” he rasped and dropped his forehead to her shoulder.

Margot’s heart broke for him. “Why would you say that? You
have plenty to offer a woman,” she murmured, nuzzling her face against his.

Quinn shook his head on her shoulder and took a deep breath.
He then straightened up and let her go. “No, I don’t. You can’t touch me, I
have secrets that I’m not willing to share, and I have trust issues. Most women
can’t deal with all of that so I doubt you can,” Quinn said and started for the
front door.

“Quinn! Where are you going?” Margot called after him. She
was not really in the position to chase him.

Quinn shook his head. He turned around but kept backing up.
“You deserve better than me, Margot. I shouldn’t have kissed you earlier and I
shouldn’t have come onto you just now. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said
tightly then left without giving her a chance to respond.

Merde! Stupid pigheaded American man!
 
Margot was so frustrated. What could she do to make him
understand that she wanted to be with him? He
was
good enough for her. She did not care
that she could not touch him, she was sure they could work on that. Margot was
not going to let him go without a fight. Quinn deserved to have someone fight
for him.

Margot finished making her dinner and ate it alone. It
turned out fairly good in her opinion. She was not the most magnificent cook in
the world, but she could definitely fend for herself. She put the dishes in the
dishwasher then sat on the couch to watch some TV. She put her foot up, as
Quinn wanted her to. Maybe five minutes passed when her cell phone started
ringing. Margot picked it up off the couch next to her, hoping that it would
possibly be Quinn calling to say he changed his mind, but no, it was her
sister, Colette, who was in France.

Margot answered the phone in French. “Bonjour?”

“Margot,” her sister sobbed into the phone.

Margot sat straight up, dread spoiling the food in her
stomach. “Colette? What is it? What is wrong?” she asked rapidly in French.

“It is papa…he…he has passed away…” Colette choked.

NO! No, no, no!

“What? I do not…how?” Margot croaked, her eyes started to
well up with tears.

“The medical examiner suspects a heart attack…”

Colette explained how they were eating dinner like always
when their father suddenly got a surprised look of his face, then fell forward,
face in his food. He was dead instantly. Margot was in shock.
Not her papa!
Why did this have to happen when she was
not home? She had not spoken to him in a week, but now she would never have the
chance again. Margot wanted to scream. She hung up with Colette because there
was really nothing else to say. She would try to get home as soon as she could,
but right now, she was overcome by her grief, and she could do nothing but sob.

~~~~~

Quinn walked into his brother, Christian’s, house after
giving the customary double knock. Christian’s head popped over the railing of
the second floor hallway. He gave Quinn a nod and said he would be right down.
Quinn went into Christian’s living room and plopped down onto the tan suede
couch. He came right here from Margot’s, and was in need of someone to unload
his thoughts on.
 

Christian walked in a moment later. He was wearing dark
jeans and a crisp pale pink dress shirt that was tucked into his jeans. Quinn
smirked. The man never dressed down. He didn’t understand it. Didn’t Christian
ever get uncomfortable and just want to wear sweatpants and a T-shirt?

“Hey Quinn, what’s going on?” Christian said, clapping Quinn
on the shoulder as he skirted the couch to sit down next to him.

Quinn sighed and dropped his head onto the back of the
couch. “I needed to talk to someone who will take me seriously and not fuck
around with me,” he murmured.

The small smile on Christian’s face faded. “Well, you know
you can talk to me. I’ll take you seriously,” he said.

Quinn smiled warmly at his younger brother. Christian was
twenty-seven, three years younger than Quinn, but he was extremely mature for
his age. Sometimes Quinn forgot that Christian was the youngest of all of them,
especially with the way Henry and Sebastian sometimes fucked around as they
did. Christian was blessed with the trademark Beck blonde hair, but he acquired
the brown eyes like Quinn. Christian had that boyishly handsome look about him
with that clean shaven face of his, but with his height and muscular build,
there was no way anyone could mistake him for a boy. Quinn patted Christian’s
knee.

“I know, that’s why I came to you,” Quinn said.

“So what’s the problem?” Christian asked, looking slightly
concerned.

“Shit, I don’t even know where to start,” he huffed. He
scrubbed his face with his hand as he tried to gather his thoughts. “You know
the woman, Margot, which I work with?”

“The one you just went to London with? Yeah, what about
her?”

“I’m starting to really like her.” Quinn sighed heavily.

Christian barked out a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth
when Quinn glared at him.

“Sorry. It’s just that you practically hated her a couple of
months ago,” he smirked.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know what happened. We ended up
sleeping together while we were in London and now I’ve been taking her to and
from work because she sprained her ankle while we were away and she can’t
drive.”

“So you’ve been spending some time with her outside of work
then?” Christian asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, and I guess I’m just seeing a different side to her.
Don’t get me wrong, the shit she does at work still irks me, but I don’t seem
to be getting as pissed off about it like I did before.”

“Have you been with her since London? In a sexual way, I
mean,” Christian asked and settled back against the couch, arms crossed over
his chest.

“No and that’s where my problem comes in. While we were in
London, we were messing around a second time; she touched me in a way I
couldn’t handle, and I just freaked. I just can’t seem to get past this whole
‘no touching’ thing. It’s like my body wants her to touch me, but my brain is
against it and makes me just react,” Quinn grunted, shaking his head.
 

“You’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. Did
something happen that I don’t know about?” Christian asked.

Quinn shrugged. “Not that I can think of.”
 
He lied.

“Huh.” Quinn muttered, stumped by the situation. “Maybe you
can try to slowly introduce her touching you. Like let her touch your chest one
time, then move on to your stomach the next time, then legs, and so on. What
about your junk? Do you let women touch you there?”

“That’s iffy. I handle blow jobs better than getting jerked
off.”

Christian nodded and turned his gaze to the coffee table
while he thought about everything. “Do you think you should talk to a
therapist? I’m sure Jared would see you,” he said after a moment of silence.

Quinn thought about going to Jared before, especially since
he got home from London. He wanted so badly to change the way he was. He wanted
to be normal. He wanted Margot’s hands all over him. Quinn could not stand to
be like this for the rest of his life. He wanted a normal fucking relationship
for once. He wanted to be good enough for Margot.

“Maybe. I’ll get his number off of Sebastian tomorrow.”

“I think it’s for the best,” Christian said sincerely and
glanced at Quinn.

Quinn nodded. “So how you doing?” he asked, wanting to
change the subject.

Christian shrugged and looked back at the coffee table in
front of them. “Nothing new,” he said tightly.

Christian’s knee started bouncing. That was something he
always did when he had something on his mind. Quinn studied his little brother
for a moment - he looked weary and run down, his shoulders were slumped, and he
looked a bit paler than normal. Something big was bothering him. Quinn reached
over and put his hand on Christian shoulder.

“Chris, what’s going on? I’m here for you, too, you know,”
he said with a frown.