More Than This Page 13

  Quinn tugged at the hem on her thigh and glanced around as if she was being watched. “At least if they’re ogling my body, they won’t pay any attention to my singing.” She picked up the play list and scanned the titles.

  Rachel returned with their drinks. She placed small, square, purple napkins on the table and topped them with their glasses. She spun away to deliver the rest of the drinks on her tray. The drinks were a completely unnatural smoky blue color. Quinn turned the glass in a circle.

  “Wasn’t it George Carlin who made jokes about there not being any blue foods?”

  “Yeah, and I’d bet he’d chug this down. Come on. Cheers.” Indy held up her tall slim glass.

  Quinn picked up hers and clinked. She took a tentative sip. Sweet. Smooth. When it slid down her throat she felt the slight burn of alcohol. The drink had kick. It was good. She took a full drink. Still smooth. Hardly any aftertaste.

  Rachel returned. “Well?”

  Quinn smiled. “You were right. Excellent choice. Thank you.”

  “What’s in this?” Indy asked.

  “I don’t know. The owner came up with it. The bartenders are sworn to secrecy. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “I bet I could get the recipe out of the bartender,” Indy commented, almost to herself.

  “Hey, guys,” Kate said as she sat next to Indy. “What are you drinking?”

  “We’re trying a really good new drink.” Quinn slid her glass toward Kate.

  She sipped. “Wow. That is good. What’s in it?”

  “No one will tell. Some hush-hush recipe created by the owner.” Indy sounded irritated by the secret.

  Kate looked around. “I like this place. It’s so much closer for me to get here. I put the kids to bed and haven’t missed any of the fun.”

  Rachel returned to the table for Kate’s order.

  “I’ll have one of those,” Kate said, pointing to Quinn’s glass.

  Rachel nodded and left.

  “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing. We’ve only been here a little while. This is our first drink.” Quinn drank from her glass.

  “How have the singers been?”

  “We’ve only seen one. They must be taking a break.”

  They all looked at the empty stage. Sure enough, DJ Dan picked up the microphone. “Next up . . . Kelly,” he read from a small card.

  The girl who stood wore a halter dress in a bright flowered print barely skimming her butt. And I thought my dress was short. The bright lights made Kelly squint as she took the stage.

  The music started. Quinn didn’t know the song, but it was something Britney Spears-ish. Kelly’s eyes fixed on some point in the middle of the dance floor. The poor girl was obviously nervous, which didn’t help her carry a tune. Every note was off. Quinn’s stomach clenched nervously, but Kelly finished. She didn’t run away screaming.

  No one heckled her.

  Quinn glanced around at the other tables. Although many people carried on their quiet conversations, no one laughed at poor Kelly. It was a good sign. When Kelly bowed at the end of her performance, people actually clapped. Maybe I can do this.

  Indy nudged Quinn from her musing. “Let’s pick a song.”

  “Let me have another drink first. I think I’ll be ready by then.”

  Indy caught Rachel’s attention and pointed at Quinn. Moments later, her fresh drink arrived, along with a Sprite for Indy, and a new singer took the stage.

  After her introduction, Sadie stood onstage in a loose, glittery black tank top and skintight black pants. Her orange-red hair rolled in waves past her shoulders. Her makeup was heavy, and it took Quinn a minute to recognize Sadie’s attempt to hide her age. She must’ve been at least fifty.

  When she took the microphone, Sadie reintroduced herself. Her voice was smoky and a bit raspy. She chose to sing Stevie Nicks’s “Stand Back.” A perfect choice.

  By the end of the song, the crowd had hushed. Instead of the polite claps the previous singer received, they applauded Sadie.

  “Oh, please. She’s good, but I can do better,” Indy commented.

  Quinn raised her eyebrows. She had no doubt Indy could do better, but she was rarely a snot about it. The comment confirmed Quinn’s suspicion that something happened to trouble Indy. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She took a drink of her pop. “Are we singing or what?”

  “I’m not ready. Besides, I don’t want to follow her. I want to follow someone who sucks.” With another gulp of Blue Smoke, the glass was half empty.

  “Scoot over and let me out. I’m singing.”

  Indy walked toward the DJ, who shuffled cards at his table. Before he rose to announce the next singer, Indy leaned over and offered a wink and a flash of cleavage. The next minute, she took the stage.

  There was no introduction. She didn’t offer her name. Within the first thirty seconds, most people in the room stared at Indy. She’d chosen “Stay” by Sugarland. The country ballad told the story of being the other woman. The accompaniment was so soft, Indy might as well have been singing a cappella. And she had the voice to do it.

  Quinn leaned forward with her chin propped in her hand. Her sister’s voice always sucked her in.

  “She’s really good.”

  “She always is when she sings from the heart.” After the words left her lips, Quinn’s mind registered that the comment had come from a man.

  She looked over her shoulder and looked up at the tall man behind her. He looked vaguely familiar.

  “Hi.” The broad smile clicked in place and recognition dawned.

  “You’re motorcycle man.”

  He chuckled so deep and rumbly, her fingers remembered feeling his diaphragm vibrate. “I usually go by Griffin.”

  “We weren’t introduced last time we met.”

  “I think Ryan planned to introduce us tonight, but it looks like he got distracted.”

  She turned back to the stage. The song ended and tears waved down Indy’s cheeks. Before the last beat, the crowd stood, cheering.

  Quinn saw movement to the left of the stage from the corner of her eye. She stood and turned her attention to see Ryan parting the crowd to get to the stage. With a spotlight on his back, he handed something to Indy. A handkerchief? She blotted her eyes.

  He held his hand for her to take. Ryan put his arm around Indy’s shoulder and hustled her through the mass of people.

  Griffin leaned close to Quinn’s ear. “Now that the entire room thinks my best friend is a married lech, maybe you’ll tell me why you weren’t the one onstage.”

  Quinn shrugged in response. She only halfway paid attention to the question. She focused on Ryan and Indy. Ryan didn’t look like Ryan tonight. He was dressed in all black—pants and a collarless button-down shirt, the top two buttons undone. She was used to seeing him in jeans and a T-shirt. It didn’t occur to her to imagine him wearing anything else. She became aware of the crowd, nudging each other and pointing in Ryan and Indy’s direction. The way they were huddled together, they did appear to be a couple. The same irritation pricked her. Rationally, she knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t control her emotions.

  What was Ryan doing here anyway? How could he have known she planned on singing tonight instead of one of the other Thursdays? Unless someone told him. Her irritation grew, this time not because she felt like Ryan was making a play for Indy, but because Indy seemed intent on getting him to make a play for Quinn. She felt the muscle in her jaw twitch. The crowd swallowed up the path Ryan and Indy walked, and Quinn lost sight of them.

  She eased back into her seat and gulped the remainder of her drink. The noise of the crowd leveled off once they figured out Indy wouldn’t sing again.

  “Would you like another one of those?” Griffin asked, still standing next to her seat.

  Quinn straightened her shoulders. “Yes, I would. Thank you.”

  Griffin returned quickly, carrying two glasses of Blue Smoke and a bottle of beer. Quinn
inched over to make room for him to sit. It would’ve been rude to accept the drink and not offer a seat. When he was settled with his long black denim-clad legs stretched out under the table, Quinn made introductions.

  “Griffin, this is my friend, Kate. Kate, this is Ryan’s friend, Griffin. He’s the one who took me on a motorcycle ride.”

  Kate extended her hand. Griffin shook it politely and slid a glass in front of her. “I figured you could use another one too. How do you like it?”

  “The drink? It’s fabulous.”

  If Kate gushed any more, it would become a swoon. Quinn bit her lip to stop the smile and a smart-ass remark. Kate had always been a sucker for a man with a motorcycle.

  “I’m glad you like it. I helped Ryan create it. That was one long night of drinking.” He took a pull on his longneck.

  Quinn sucked in a sharp breath. Kate simply sipped her drink. “You helped Ryan create it? Our waitress said the owner came up with it.”

  Griffin nodded. The smiled eased across his face again. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  “Know what?” Kate asked.

  “This is Ryan’s bar.” He enjoyed telling her, like a gossip releasing a well-kept secret.

  Kate focused on Quinn. “I thought he owned O’Leary’s. You never mentioned him having another bar.”

  “He didn’t tell me. You were there when he handed me the flyer for karaoke night. He said nothing about this being his bar.” Another big gulp of alcohol. The buzz felt good, but it didn’t ease her anger.

  “Why are you pissed? He probably didn’t think it was important.” Griffin’s logic made sense, even to her increasingly fuddled brain.

  “I wouldn’t have come here if I knew he owned it.”

  “Why not?”

  She waved her hands in an attempt to gather her words. “Because he’s all over my . . . stuff.”

  Griffin leaned close. “How many drinks have you had?”

  “Three?”

  “You don’t drink often, do you?”

  “Often enough.” The alcohol was hitting her system hard, but she didn’t care.

  Griffin took a drink from his bottle of beer. “I thought you wanted his help with your list.”

  Quinn shrank back into a slouch. “He told you about my list?”

  “Was it supposed to be a secret?” He drained the bottle of beer and set it down.

  “No, not a secret. But it’s personal. I don’t go around blabbing to everyone I meet.”

  “He doesn’t either. I’m his friend. And he asked me to take you on a ride.”

  The anger sizzled in the air between them. What right did Griffin have to be mad at her? He had nothing to do with what was going on between her and Ryan. Kate sat on the opposite side of the table, not commenting. She watched, like a shark spying its prey. Quinn felt Kate’s visual dissection. “What?”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “You want to. Since when do you hold your tongue?”

  “Since I was trying not to piss you off. I’m having a good evening and I don’t want it to end on a bad note. Griffin is right. You shouldn’t be pissed. Ryan has gone out of his way to help you with your list. In fact, he’s done more to help you accomplish things than I have. Instead of brewing up an argument, you should be giving him a huge kiss. Or more, if you’re so inclined.” Kate took another small sip of the drink Griffin brought her and offered a smug smile over the rim of her glass.

  “Please tell me you’re single,” Griffin smoothly said.

  Kate held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “Married.”

  Griffin shook his head and his mouth formed an exaggerated frown. “All of the beautiful, intelligent ones are these days.” He stood. “Another round?”

  Her anger gone, Quinn reached for her purse. “Yes, but I’ll get this one.”

  “No way. I got it. The entertainment is worth the price of a few drinks.”

  Quinn watched him as far as she could without leaving her seat. What did he mean by that? She fished a five-dollar bill out of her purse and waved Rachel over.

  “Need another drink?”

  “No, I wanted to give you a tip before I forgot. Do you guys have a food menu here?”

  “Sure. I’ll go grab a couple and bring them by.”

  “Thanks.” Quinn hoped having some food would absorb the alcohol streaming through her system. Blue Smoke was certainly more potent than it appeared to be.

  “Are you okay?” Kate wrapped her cool fingers around Quinn’s wrist.

  “I’m feeling a little light-headed. I drank the last one too fast. I don’t think when I get irritated.”

  Rachel breezed by and deposited menus on the table. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

  “Where’s Indy? She’s been gone a long time. She never stays upset this long.”

  “I’ll go look for her. You don’t look steady enough to walk. Ryan might’ve taken her outside for air. She looked pretty rattled.” Kate exited the side of the booth and disappeared into the crowd.

  Quinn felt odd sitting by herself in the large booth. She hoped no one would notice. She wasn’t sure she could string together a coherent sentence at the moment. Griffin slid in next to her. She must have dazed out because she didn’t notice him until he was in the booth.

  “Where’s Kate?” he asked, placing her drink and a glass of water in front of her.

  “To look for Indy.” Quinn took a deep breath and attempted to steady her gaze. “Can I ask you a favor?”

  “I guess.”

  “Will you order something for me off the menu? The alcohol is hitting me pretty hard, and I don’t think I can focus enough to read.” She felt the rumble of his laughter. She recalled the feel of her hands wrapped around him on the motorcycle. The memories of the excitement flooded her. She slid closer to Griffin until his denim rubbed her thigh.

  “Anything specific you’re looking for?”

  “Mmm. Whatever you think.” She propped her elbow on the table for stability.

  Rachel returned and Quinn heard Griffin say something. She didn’t care what he ordered. The sound of his deep voice cascaded over her.

  “Drink this.” He pushed the glass of water in front of her. “You’re not gonna puke, are you?”

  “No. Why do you go to the bar to get drinks?”

  “Because that’s where they come from.” He spoke like she was a dim-witted three-year-old.

  She inhaled deeply and tried again. “I mean, why go to the bar instead of asking Rachel to get the drinks?”

  “Because Rachel knows I’m Ryan’s friend and he told her not to take my money. I can blend in at the busy bar.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. She turned her attention to the stage. The singer was a blur and her blood thundered in her head, preventing the music from penetrating. She had no idea whether or not he was any good.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ryan pulled up short on his way to Quinn’s table. Griffin faced his direction, legs stretched out, a beer in his right hand, and Quinn nestled against his left side, with her head on his chest. He finished his journey to the table with his jaw clenched, but then he saw Quinn wasn’t nuzzling Griffin. She was sleeping on him.

  “What the hell did you do to her?”

  “She got herself drunk on Blue Smoke. Someone should’ve warned her.” He took a drink of his beer. “I ordered food. She talked for a few minutes. The next thing I know, she scooted closer and put her head down.” He shrugged, at least as much as he could with only one free shoulder.

  Kate came around the other side of the table from behind Griffin. She looked at Ryan. “Where’s Indy? I’ve looked all over.”

  “She left. She was really upset. I took her outside for a few minutes. We came back in, but when she saw Griffin, she mumbled something about work and asked me to bring Quinn home.”

  Kate came around the table and saw Quinn. Griffin smiled at her. “Your friend doesn’t drink m
uch.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Kate shook her head. “If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, could I ask you guys to dump her into my car so I can get her home? It’s a long drive for me to get her to her place and come back home.”

  Griffin shifted, and Quinn wrapped an arm around his waist.

  “I’ll take her home, Kate,” Ryan offered, trying not to be annoyed by Quinn’s hands on Griffin.

  She considered it, but answered, “No, thanks. I can’t expect you to do that.”

  “I live a lot closer to her than you do. I’ll take her to the office and let her sleep a bit. She’ll feel better and I’ll take her home.”

  Kate’s hand went to her hip and she cocked her head to the side. “No funny business?”

  He couldn’t decide if she was serious. He’d only met her a few times. “Quinn is my friend too. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  Just then, Quinn stirred and Griffin looked a bit uncomfortable. Ryan tilted his head to tell Griff to get out of the booth. Griffin eased Quinn upright, and while her eyes opened, Ryan took Griffin’s place. Kate resumed her position on the opposite side.

  “Hey, Quinn.”

  Her head swung toward him. “Hey. I ordered food, I think.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m mad at you.”

  He waved to Rachel to check on the food. “Why are you mad at me?”

  Griff remained standing beside the table. “I’ll go check on the food.”

  “You didn’t tell me you owned this bar.” She paused and pointed to her empty glass. “With these fabulous drinks.”

  He slid her glass of water closer, hoping she’d take the hint. “That made you mad?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t remember why. You’re such a good kisser. Your mouth is the best I’ve had since . . . ever.”

  Ryan looked at the unfocused glaze in her eyes and tried to ignore her words. If he didn’t, he’d be hard again in a minute. He couldn’t forget the kisses they shared and felt better knowing she couldn’t get past it either.

  Her eyes widened. “Did I say that out loud?”

  He leaned closer and whispered, “Yeah, I’ll make sure to remind you later.”

  She turned and looked at Kate, who continued to nurse her own drink. “Where’s Indy?”