Daughters Of The Bride(121)

She sat next to him in the Bentley, her bare feet up on the dash. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she wore sunglasses. They’d stopped for lunch at In-N-Out Burger before heading north.

They’d had a good time together. He liked how she’d been able to hold her own at the party. She’d admitted to feeling totally out of her element, but she had stood her ground when necessary. Her reaction to the “mean girl” moment still made him chuckle.

He’d spent a lot of his life with something to prove. Maybe that need had come from the fact that his father hadn’t bothered to stay much past conception or that his mother had also abandoned him. Maybe it was in his DNA. For whatever reasons, he’d given his all to his work and used the parade of beautiful women that followed to satisfy himself.

He’d been careful to not get involved until a few years ago when he’d started to realize he wanted something more. For a while he’d considered taking things to the next level with Shannon, but when she’d found love with another man, he’d moved on. Until he’d met Courtney.

She was everything he could have wanted and a thousand times more. Which kind of led him to the next obvious question. Where was he going with this?

A few years ago any talk like that would have him carefully showing the lady in question to the door. But now...now he had other plans.

Courtney stretched her arms out in front of her and pointed to the Los Lobos sign. “We’re almost there. I had a great time, but I have to say, a little of that city goes a long way.”

“For me, too.”

“It didn’t used to.”

“People change.”

She looked at him. “You sure did. Are you sure you’re ready to give up that house and the—” she made air quotes “—‘beautiful people’?”

“I am. The house was nice, but I can build another one just like it, here.” Not that he wanted to. He was thinking more of a family home. With a big backyard and plenty of bedrooms.

“They sure want you back,” she said.

“Who?”

“Those women.”

He dismissed them with a shrug. “They want what I represent. For most of them, I could be anyone. It’s the same with the men trying to get into the industry. I’m a means to an end. They want power and prestige and think I can make that happen.”

“That doesn’t bother you? Them using you?”

“I don’t care about them. I care about my people and the music. The rest of it is simply part of the landscape.”

She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I can see that. I know I tease you about living in Los Lobos, but you really fit in. Wayne complains about the small-town stuff, but I can’t see him in Los Angeles.” She laughed. “He would never have survived at that party.”

“It’s not his thing.”

“Mine, either. All the mean girl stuff was kind of fun, though. Weird, but interesting.” She lowered her feet to the carpet. “Thanks for taking me. I’ve never been a flavor of the month before. It’s been a wonderful experience.”

He turned off PCH and drove toward town. “What are you talking about? You’re not a flavor of the month.”

She waved her hand. “Whatever you want to call it. I get it, Quinn. I don’t want you worrying. Being together has been fun and I’m not looking to end things, but I know you’re not...” She paused and pressed her lips together. “Okay, this got awkward fast. What I’m trying to say is that you’re...”

They were nearly at the hotel. He pulled off the road and put the Bentley in Park, then turned toward her.

“Is that what you think?” he asked. “That I’m using you because you’re handy and then I’m done?”

She pulled off her sunglasses. “No. That makes you sound awful. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make trouble or send us somewhere we didn’t want to go. You’ve been so great to me and we have a wonderful time together.” She flushed slightly but didn’t turn away. “I like you and you like me. I appreciate that. As for the rest of it—” She swore under her breath. “Can we talk about something else?”

She liked him? That was it? He couldn’t tell if she was trying to be cool or if she genuinely didn’t care. Not knowing what a woman was thinking was unusual for him. And disconcerting.

“We should talk about this,” he said.



Courtney wanted to stick her fingers in her ears and hum loudly. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said. “Really.” She pointed at the hotel. “Oh, look. We’re almost there. Why don’t we unpack and talk later?” Like never.