A small price, though one that grated.
“You’re taking your sweet time in there, Baldwyn.”
He took a deep breath and tried to let the tension out of his shoulders. If there was anyone who’d pick up on it, it would be Adam and Daniel, and then he’d never hear the end of it. As far as they were concerned, Quinn’s father could take a flying leap and be done with it. They didn’t understand that it was easier for Quinn to do the bare minimum to keep his little sister from being torn in her loyalties. If he told his old man where to stick it, he’d be banished in truth, and Jenny would have to openly defy their parents to see him. He wouldn’t put her in that position. He refused to.
The only problem was that the older he got, the more his father started asking probing questions about his plans to settle down and create some more Baldwyns. With Jenny’s wedding right around the corner, there was no one else to focus on pairing off, and as the only son, as far as his father was concerned, it was Quinn’s responsibility to continue the family name.
“Quinn?”
He turned, forcing a smile onto his face. “Hey, pretty lady.”
Jules stood in the doorway, a bright smile on her face. The expression dimmed when she took him in. “Is everything okay?”
Not in the least. But he held up the beers. “Just getting my barmaid on.”
Instead of being appeased, she frowned harder. That was the problem with women—they saw too much. Oh, his buddies knew that something was chewing at him, but they were more than happy to let him stew over it until he was ready to talk. If he was never ready to talk? Hell, that was okay, too. But now that Adam was married to Jules, she was around a lot more often, and the woman was incapable of seeing a person in need without wanting to meddle. She meant well, but there was no fixing his situation. “Jules—”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. Adam’s not really a sharer, either.” She took two of the beers from him. “I’m used to it.”
She wasn’t trying to guilt him, but guilt rose all the same. Quinn sighed. Telling Jules Meyer-Rodriguez “no” was like kicking a puppy—it just wasn’t done. And, damn her, she knew it. “Look, it’s complicated.”
“Okay.” She set the beers aside and hopped onto the kitchen counter, swinging her legs like a little kid. “I can do complicated. Hit me with it.”
What could it hurt to get some of his frustrations off his chest? He leaned over to look out into the living room, but for all intents and purposes, Adam and Daniel seemed engrossed in the Cowboys game going on. I bet that ass sent her in here on purpose. He popped the cap off his beer and took a swig. “If I tell you, you’ll leave it alone?”
“No promises.” She’d said it cheerfully. Everything about the woman was cheerful. It’d be aggravating as fuck if she wasn’t so genuinely nice. How she’d become such a good friend with that vicious little redhead, Aubry Kaiser, was beyond him.
He took another drink. “My sister is getting married.”
“Oh, how exciting!” She pressed her lips together. “Unless you don’t like her fiancé? Because that’s not exciting at all. That’s horrible.” She brightened. “Are we going to break up their wedding?”
“Hold your horses.” He held up a hand, rocking back on his heels. “That little scheme you had going with Adam last year has gone to your brain and made you power mad. And Brad is just fine. A little on the boring side, but fine.” As far as he could tell, anyways. The guy loved Jenny and wasn’t scared of their old man. More importantly, Jenny loved him to distraction and he made her happy. Quinn couldn’t ask for much more.
“Okay, then what’s the problem?”
Here it was. He almost backed out, made his excuses, and took off. But if he’d learned one thing about Jules, it was that she was more than capable of chasing his ass down and pestering him until he told her what she wanted to know. Frankly, he was surprised it had taken this long for her to turn her fixing eye on him and his problems. “My old man has decided he’s a matchmaker, and he’s getting more pointed with the women he’s trotting out in front of me like prize dogs.”
Jules made a face. “Charming.”
“You have no idea.” The last woman had been named Barbie. She was perfectly nice, but her breast size was larger than her IQ and all she’d done through the entire dinner was talk about all the things her new diet wouldn’t allow her to eat. Call him crazy, but if he’d been looking for a woman—and he most definitely wasn’t—it would be someone he could hold down more than a five-minute conversation with.