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“Do you prefer red or white wine?” he asked quietly.
“Red,” Margot answered.
Quinn just nodded as he continued to peruse the list. When the waiter came, Quinn ordered them a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. Margot smiled.
“What?” he asked her when the waiter walked away.
“That is my favorite wine,” she said with a shrug.
“Me, too,” he said softly before picking up his menu.
Margot wondered what other things they had in common. Then she remembered that she wanted to ask him about his tattoo. “Quinn, I have a question,” Margot said, setting her menu down, she knew what she was getting already.
Quinn lifted his eyes from the menu to look at her. He raised an eyebrow in question. Her heart fluttered and her stomach flipped whenever he looked at her like that. There was something so provocative and suggestive about the way he cocked one eyebrow sometimes.
“You have a tattoo on your back...what does it mean?” Margot asked.
Quinn pursed his lips and looked back down at his menu. She thought he was going to ignore her question, but he eventually took a deep breath and said, “It’s the Chinese symbol for ‘Strength,’” he murmured quietly.
Margot studied him for a moment. She was very surprised that he told her. She also noticed the way he stiffened when she asked, and he was still tense even after answering. This must be something very personal to him. It made her even more curious.
“It means something to you?” she asked.
Quinn pressed his lips together and nodded. He was still looking down at the menu.
“Will you tell me about it?” she asked softly.
He smiled bitterly and lifted his dark eyes to pin her with an intense gaze. “No, and don’t ever ask again,” he said sharply.
Margot flinched. “I am sorry.”
Quinn shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit. No...I am. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just really personal,” he grumbled.
Margot frowned and nodded. “Okay. I will not ask again,” she said sincerely.
He swallowed hard and nodded. They sat in silence until the waiter returned with the wine. He poured them each a glass and took their orders. Margot watched Quinn sip his wine. She really had a hard time taking her eyes off him, period. Everything from the stray strand of dark hair that hung down over his forehead that he kept smoothing back into place, to the way he sat with his knees wide but his big body poised in his chair. He was all Alpha male and he fascinated Margot.
Quinn was not much of a talker, so Margot ended up chatting most of the time through dinner. She was not too sure if he was fully listening or not, but it was better than eating in complete silence. By the end of dinner, they had polished off the bottle of wine between the two of them, and she was feeling warm and fuzzy. When they stood to leave, the wine really hit her and she swayed, bumping into Quinn as he shrugged into his pea coat.
Quinn grabbed her arm to steady her. “You okay?” he asked with a frown.
“I think I drank too much,” she giggled.
Quinn did not reply. He grabbed her coat and helped her put it on. He bent down and picked her purse up off the floor where she set it, tucked her under his arm, and walked her out of the restaurant. Instead of letting her look like a drunken fool, Quinn covered it up by making it look like he was being a gentleman to his date.
Margot leaned into him and slipped her arm around his lower back as they walked down the street. His body was warm and hard, which helped fight off the chill in the air. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, pulling in his masculine scent. He smelled like body wash, and whatever it was, it smelled amazing. Margot had to fight the urge to burrow her face into his chest. She was sure he would not appreciate that.
~~~~~
Quinn was surprised that the wine hit Margot like that. She seemed fine all through dinner, and then...BAM...she’s hammered. Quinn was even more surprised by how good she felt tucked up against him while they walked back to the hotel. He has had a huge problem with physical contact, not liking people to touch him. He could probably let Margot go, but he found that he didn’t want to. She had one arm around his back, her hand hanging onto his belt. Her other hand was pressed flat against the left side of his stomach, which was the side she was on.
Normally, he didn’t do anything other than shake peoples’ hands. There were a select few that he would allow to hug him - his parents, Claire, and the kids. They were the only exceptions. His brothers knew not to hug him, and Raelynn hasn’t tried. Sebastian might have warned her but she was fairly perceptive, so she might have picked up on Quinn’s aversion all on her own. No one ever questioned it either. They just figured it was his quirk and they accepted it.
