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“Quinn!” For god’s sake, her mother was standing right here.
But her mom, at least, was used to Quinn’s antics, and she just swept the remaining bobby pins into the box. “Come downstairs so I can take some pictures before I have to leave.”
Her mom was working tonight, sparing Becca the awkwardness of introducing Hunter—and forcing him to endure pictures and questions, while guaranteeing herself a bunch of crap tomorrow morning about his piercings.
They posed for the photos; then her mom was out the door, and it was just Becca and Quinn.
They sat on the couch, perched on the edge so they wouldn’t wrinkle their dresses.
“I like that bracelet,” said Quinn, reaching out a hand. “Very new age. Where’d you get it?”
Becca blushed. “Hunter. Sort of.” She didn’t think twine bracelets worked with the dress—but for some reason she couldn’t make herself leave the stones sitting on her dresser, either. So she’d strung them on an old silver chain and looped it around her wrist a few times.
“He really likes you.”
She stroked her fingers over those stones. “I really like him.”
“But you’re thinking about Chris Merrick?”
Becca stared at her.
Quinn shrugged a little. “I’m not an idiot, Bex. You wouldn’t have dragged me across the field to apologize if you didn’t have a thing for him.”
“I do not have a thing for him.”
“Please. There’s some serious pining going on here.”
Becca giggled. “I am not pining.” Was she?
“Maybe we should do a side-by-side comparison,” said Quinn. “Like one of those charts. Best ass. Nicest hands. Sexiest eyes. Oh, I know! Biggest—”
Becca hit her with a throw pillow.
Then the doorbell rang, and Rafe was standing in the foyer, his Hispanic coloring and dark suit making him look suave and debonair.
“Wow,” he said, sounding a bit strangled as he took in Quinn’s appearance. He pulled at his tie. “Your dress is—you look—”
st about stopped his heart, too. He couldn’t look at her.
“What’s up?” he said.
“I really did come to apologize yesterday,” she said softly. “Hunter shouldn’t have picked a fight with you. Especially after what you—what you and your brothers did.”
He dragged his eyes up. “It’s all right. Gabriel shouldn’t have been such an ass.”
She made a face. “I shouldn’t have hit him.” She flexed her fingers. “My hand still hurts.”
Chris smiled. “Oh, no, I loved that part.”
She didn’t smile back, so he dropped his.
Awkward silence hung there long enough that he turned back to his notebook.
Then she said, “I wish I’d been the one to punch Drew.”
“Yeah?” He looked over again, his voice angry. “Me too.”
Her eyes widened and he wished he hadn’t said anything. He almost started doodling again, just to give his hands something to do.
