Page 44 of Four More The Merrier

"Your timing belt's shot. And..." I lean in closer, grimacing at the state of her engine. "Looks like your head gasket's blown too."

"In English, please?"

"It'd cost more to fix than the car's worth."

Quinn slumps forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. "Perfect. Just perfect." Her voice cracks. "What am I supposed to do now? I can't afford..."

"Hey." I open her door, crouching beside her. "We'll figure something out. For now, let me drive you back to the hotel."

She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing."

"Nothing embarrassing about it." I helped her out of the driver's seat. "My first car was held together with duct tape and prayers."

"Yeah?" She manages a watery smile.

"Broke down right before a gig once. Had to ride my bass on the back of Lyle's motorcycle."

That gets a real laugh out of her. "Now that I would've paid to see."

I guide her to my truck, opening the passenger door. "Come on. Let's get you somewhere warm."

The drive back is quiet, Quinn staring out the window at the passing Christmas lights. I catch glimpses of her reflection in the glass, eyes still bright with unshed tears.

I pull into the hotel parking lot, watching Quinn twist her hands in her lap. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the soft hum of the heater.

"I can't believe this." She drops her head back against the seat. "I'm going to have to call my parents. They'll love this."

"Like hell you are." The words come out sharper than I intended.

"What choice do I have? I can't afford?—"

"Forget the fucking car." I turn to face her fully. "Move into the tour bus."

Her mouth drops open. "What?"

"We've got an extra bunk. The one above Lyle's." I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. "Makes more sense anyway. You're spending most of your time with us anyway."

"I can't just?—"

"Why not? You're part of the band now."

"Well, there's Jarron…"

"I don't give a fuck what Jarron thinks." The words come out rough, raw with emotion. "And neither should you."

Quinn's eyes widen in the dim light of my truck cab. The dashboard clock casts a soft blue glow across her face, highlighting the slight tremble in her lower lip. My hand moves to cup her cheek before I can stop myself.

"Beau..." Her voice is barely a whisper.

This time, there are no carolers to interrupt us. No more excuses. I lean across the center console, my thumb brushing her jawline. Her eyes flutter closed as I close the distance between us.

The first brush of her lips against mine is soft, tentative. Then her fingers tangle in my shirt, pulling me closer, and everything else fades away. The taste of hot chocolate still lingers on her lips, sweet and warm. My other hand finds her waist, steadying her as she arches into me.

When we finally break apart, her breathing is ragged. My heart pounds against my ribs like a bass drum. Quinn's lips curve into a smile that makes my chest tight.

"So..." She smooths her hands down my shirt. "Is this part of the tour bus package deal?"

I laugh, pressing my forehead against hers. "Darlin', that's just the beginning.

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