“Same here. Yes. Me, too. Thank you.” She managed a smile; he smiled back easily. Oh, she wished she could get used to this.
“So you still think I was trying to get Darcy to sleep with me?”
“Weren’t you?”
“Nope.” He reached across Darcy’s empty seat and touched her shoulder. “I’m in recovery from one-night-stands, remember?”
“Yes. But Darcy is…” Marie blinked and looked away from Quinn’s mesmerizing gaze, trying to get her brain back on track. Something was nagging her subconscious, and she needed to stop and pay attention. What was it? Something about Darcy. And Troy. And Quinn? Matchmaking…Quinn wanting Darcy…Troy wanting Darcy…
Yes. There it was. Brilliant. She turned to Quinn, alight with excitement. “I have an idea.”
“Oh, no.” He let his head drop onto his hand, rubbed his forehead ruefully. “I know that look. The schemer is at it again.”
“Will you help me?”
He groaned. “Can’t you leave true love to run its natural, never-smooth course?”
“Its natural course would be for Darcy to run like hell from something that could be really good for her.”
“And this is your responsibility why?”
“Because I care about her, and I want her to be happy. Weren’t you going to match me up with someone for the same reason?”
“I was.” He shook his head, eyes closed, but when he opened them again he was grinning. “I don’t think there’s another woman on earth I’d do this for, but okay, Marie. What part do I play in your soap opera?”
The only woman he’d do this for? Marie grinned back at him; he held her eyes and her smile, and for one beautiful second, she felt them connect on a level deeper than friendship, and felt the possibility, the real and wonderful possibility of her wildest dream coming true. Even with only that much of it fulfilled, she could cheerfully die from happiness right there.
But not until she filled Quinn in on her plan.
DARCY CAME BACK FROM THE bathroom, surprised to find Quinn at the bar alone. She glanced around; no sign of her friend. “Where’s Marie?”
“She had an office crisis she had to take care of. Said if she didn’t make it back tonight, she’d call you at home.”
“Oh, okay.” Darcy settled onto the stool next to him. She’d come here to apologize to Marie, but talking to Quinn was entertaining, and she still had half a drink to finish. If Marie would be calling later, Darcy could still make things right with her.
“So I guess it’s just the two of us again.” He lifted his martini toward her, expression warm. There was nothing overtly sexual about his behavior, but she sensed something in the atmosphere had shifted. A low buzz of excitement started in her chest. And ended abruptly when she thought of Troy.
Damn it. After one night nearly a week ago, he was not allowed to take over the rest of her life.
“I guess it is just the two of us.” She clinked glasses, smiling into his eyes, which were stunning. Dark and deep and slightly turned down at the corners. He reminded her of someone. Some movie star. James Brolin? Young Alec Baldwin?
No, no, duh, George Clooney, how could she have missed it? Her crush of all silver-screen crushes. Same quirked eyebrows, bold chin, finely shaped head with neatly cropped graying hair. Yum. Everything about Quinn Peters fit the bill for a night of sweat and pleasure.
“What do you do for fun, Darcy?”
“Work is my fun. I run a restaurant.”
He acknowledged her words with a quick nod. “Right. I knew that. Gladiolas. Very impressive.”
“Have you been there?”
“Not yet.” He turned his body toward her on the stool; his knee brushed the length of her thigh, making her skin come alive. The man was very, very sexy. And unless her receptors were on the blink, he felt the same way about her. So where did that leave Marie? Maybe Quinn thought they were just friends, but Darcy was pretty sure Marie had stronger feelings. Darcy might not be the world’s most impressive moral role model, but she would never hit on a friend’s love interest.
“I’ll get you into Gladiolas some night and cook a private dinner.” She arched an eyebrow. “For you and Marie…”