Page 5 of Dream Lover
Sliding past grumpy and getting into the stall, I was hovered over the toilet seat relieving myself when the door flew open. My eyes flew up. On the other side of said door was this freakishly tall man with bulging tattooed biceps. His gaze slid over me, taking me in, and I thought for sure I was going to die of mortification on the spot. My cheeks were flaming, and his husky voice drawled out a gritty, “Sorry.” The man then winked at me.
“Shut the damn door!” I shrieked, which garnered the attention of the flight attendant. Who ended up having to stand at the restroom on guard for me because the damn door was somehow broken. All I wanted to do was turn around and go home. Forget this ever happened. I knew this trip was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Each moment proved my theory right.
Suck it up, Quinn. You’re in Vegas.
By the time I made it to the hotel, I knew I must’ve looked crazy. After missing the first bus to the hotel from the airport and almost not getting on the second because it was too full, I was drained.
People were staring at me as I trekked through the opulent lobby taking in the big chandeliers and the fountain on display, rolling my bag behind me. The lobby was bustling with gamblers and travelers. All I wanted was to make it to my room unscathed and take a hot shower to wash away the day. Once that happened, I could start fresh and forget about everything. I had to be here, and I was going to make the best of it.
The clerk behind the desk looked at me then my ID. Back to me again. “Are you sure your name is Quinn Landis? You look … different.” Her nose scrunched up at my haggard travel-worn appearance. Surely in her line of work, she’d seen people tired from traveling hundreds of miles. While I was no beauty queen, I didn’t think I looked that bad. Did I? Maybe the makeup free, hair in a bun on top of my head wasn’t the best choice for a day on a plane. I was going for the I’m-in-a-hurry-but-I’m-not-a-hobo-look.
I squared my shoulders and smoothed my hand over my dark hair, trying to tame the loose hairs that fell. “Yes,” I hissed. “I’m just not wearing makeup. Thank you so very much.” I was starting to sweat. If this day was any indication of how the rest of the trip was going to go, I was royally fucked. That was when I heard his voice before I saw him, my bad day going into the shitter.
“Quinn?” I turned my head in the direction of one of the smoothest voices I had ever known. One I’d recognize anywhere.
Conner Davenport.
Sweet baby Jesus in the manger he was hot. Hotter than hot. I hadn’t seen him in years, and man did he grow up. Dark wavy hair that was simply meant for running one’s fingers through. The bluest eyes I had ever gazed into reminding me of the sky above. Perfect smile, straight teeth, and those kissable lips I’d had many dreams about over the years.
More importantly, though, what was he doing here? He wasn’t in the bridal party. Did something happen and Conner was standing in for someone else?
“Conner?” I cleared my throat and looked around for a hidden camera somewhere. It would be my luck for someone to jump out and yellSIKE!This had to be some kind of joke. The cosmos didn’t hate me this much. At least I hoped not.
“Looks like I caught you just in time, buttercup. It’s you and me. This week, you’re all mine.” His voice melted over me like butter on a hot roll. Then there was that perfect smile paired with the most gorgeous set of sky blue eyes. Eyes that were gazing at me like I was the sun. I trembled at the very thought of beinghisfor a week. What was I supposed to say to that? This was Conner, Carrie’s brother, and my brother’s best friend.
What would my brother say?
Rebecca would hate the very idea of it, and that was enough to have me considering that maybe this could work. Maybe Lady Luck was taking pity on me and stacking the odds in my favor for once.
Or playing a terrible trick that would have all the cards falling into dust.
Quinn
LEAD ME NOT INTO TEMPTATION… OH WHO AM I KIDDING, FOLLOW ME; I KNOW A SHORT CUT
Conner staredat me like he was waiting for me to do or say something. Except, I stood frozen in place, my breaths caught in my throat.
I hadn’t yet decided if I wanted to choke Carrie to death or kiss her face for sending her older brother to my rescue. There were so many ways this could go.
It could be a dream come true or my worst nightmare.
How many scenarios had I imagined myself with Conner over the years? Too many to count, but this was something I hadn’t thought about when Carrie asked me if I trusted her. Never in a million years would I have guessed she would sendhimto be my date. And better yet, how did she get him to agree so easily and on such short notice at that? I had so many questions for my bestie the next time we spoke. Which would be soon.
“Have a little faith,” I heard her voice in my head. I was going to kill her, I decided.
“Ma’am, your signature,” the hotel desk clerk prompted, but I was lost, staring at Conner.
Conner grinned even bigger and slid up to the counter next to me. “Allow me.” He plucked the pen from the holder and signed for the room. The clerk placed the room cards in his hand, and Conner passed them off to me.
Conner then proceeded to grab my bags. Finally, after the rough day I had endured, I felt calm, like maybe things would be okay. I had known Conner Davenport most of my life. If there was a man I could depend on outside of my father or my brother, it was him. At least it always had been. Somehow the worry seemed to melt away, and the day seemed a bit brighter. All the terrible mishaps leading to him somehow faded away. That was Conner. He had that effect on the people around him or, at least, on me.
The pair of us strolled to the elevator. The door closed with only the two of us on board, and I couldn’t help but think of the scene inFifty Shades of Greywhen Christian slams Ana against the wall and makes love to her mouth. I felt my pulse pick up. That kiss was something to write home about. Hell, to plaster on billboards. That was a kiss of all kisses.
Conner smirked at me as though he knew exactly what I was thinking about. I looked away, a blush staining my cheeks. I wished I knew what was going through that handsome head of his. One thing I never learned was mind reading.
The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and he trailed behind me with our bags. I swore I could feel the heat of his eyes on my ass but blew it off. There was no way in hell he’d be doing that. This was Conner, and well, I was me.
We walked down the hall, and I turned right.
