12. Quentin

12

QUENTIN

I draw out the evening as long as possible, having a nightcap at the bar and chatting with Charlie.

Dina sings another set that’s as haunting as the first. Sharon took the kids up to bed, leaving the man with the scowl to watch over his woman.

“I need my sleep.” Charlie yawns and stretches. “We’re up at zero-five-hundred right?”

I raise my eyebrows, impressed she’s actually looked at the itinerary and has picked up on the correct way to communicate time. She’s making an effort, and I like that.

“Afraid so. We need to find our spot and get set up.”

She nods, resigned to the early start. “You better not snore.”

I follow her up the stairs, trying not to watch her delicious ass, but it’s no easier to get my eyes off it now than it has been for the last two days. By the time we get to the room I’m half hard, which is not a good situation.

I’ve unpacked my duffel bag already. My t-shirts hang in the wardrobe, my underwear is folded neatly in one of the drawers of the dresser, and I’ve tucked my duffle bag under the bed.

Charlie’s oversized purse lays strewn across the bed with items spilling out of it. She wasn’t joking when she said she travels light. I spy a couple of bunched up items of clothing and a toiletries bag. The rest is her makeup.

“You can use the bathroom first,” I offer.

While she’s in the bathroom, I pull out my laptop and check my emails. I confirm two meetings for tomorrow afternoon. This could be big for us, getting our beer distributed on the west coast, and I need to be alert. The last thing I need is to be distracted by Charlie. So when she comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt, my jaw hits the floor.

I snap it shut and turn away, so she doesn’t see the instant effect she has on me.

“I usually sleep naked,” she confesses, which does nothing to help the tenting that’s happening in my pants. “But for you I’ll keep some layers on.”

When I dare glance around, her eyes are dancing with amusement. This is all a game to Charlie. Probably because she has no idea what I’m thinking right now. If she knew I was in danger of ripping that t-shirt off and ravishing her, I bet she’d quit laughing about it.

“Don’t bother,” I say, and her eyes go wide before I can explain myself. “I’m not sleeping in the bed.”

Disappointment flashes across her face. “Where will you sleep?” She indicates the room, which barely fits the double bed, a chest of drawers, and a wardrobe. It’s a beautiful 19 th century wooden design, but the space is limited.

“The bathtub.” I grab a pillow from the bed.

Charlie laughs. “Are you serious? You can’t sleep in the tub.”

It won’t be comfortable. But I’ve slept in worse places in the military.

“I can’t sleep in the bed with you.”

Her expression goes hard, and she looks away. I’ve offended her. And that’s not what I meant to do. But Raiden will have my ass if I touch his daughter, and there’s no way I can lie next to Charlie and not touch her.

She pulls the covers back and gets into the bed.

“You’re a fool, Quentin,” she says quietly. “But fine. Put your back out sleeping in the tub. I’m sure that’s much better than finding out what might happen if you had the balls to sleep next to me.”

I still at her words, and my breath hitches.

She feels it too. This attraction I have for her isn’t one-sided. But the difference between us is Charlie acts on her impulses. I have the burden of thinking of consequences. And the consequences would be bad.

Raiden’s my MC president, and we served together. It would be a betrayal. I’d be out of the club, which means giving up the brewery.

I’m not going to risk that for one night of passion. Even if my balls are so blue for this girl I might explode. Besides, it’s just not the right thing to do. I won’t hit on Raiden’s daughter.

“Goodnight Charlie,” I say softly.

I grab the spare blanket from the wardrobe and head to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and lean against it, breathing deeply.

If this is the right thing to do, then why does it feel so completely wrong?