prenup.
Prenup. Or was that lost? He’d have to talk to Brody—at some point. Clearly, he hadn’t called his lawyer, or said cousin and the rest of the family would have undoubtedly tried to stop the damned wedding.
Oh my God.
She could . . . Hell, he’d have to check with Brody. Though not now.
What did he really know about her?
. . . I don’t want anything . . .
Ella . . .
He saw her blue-green eyes with amber flecks in them, weird hair and pale skin. He knew so much about her, but so little. She volunteered at shelters and gave her afternoons to the elderly and taught yoga. He’d enjoyed her yoga, in more ways than one, which was totally beside the effing point.
What the hell did he do?
Ian slapped the back of his chair and slid into one across from him.
“Vegas?”
“Hey, little bro. Got tired of our party and went and made your own, huh?” Gavin muttered as he sat beside him. Someone else sat down, but Quinlan didn’t open his eyes, move, or remove his shades to see who it was. Didn’t care.
“So who was the chick? The cotton-candy-haired one? Eliza or Ellen or whatever?” Aiden asked, also across from him. The others piled in quickly. Clearly they were ready to go home as well. And why the hell wouldn’t they be? They’d planned to go home yesterday .
Home.
How the hell would she get home?
He’d left a message with the front desk in case she returned, along with an envelope of money—more than enough to see her safely back to New Orleans.
However, she left him , hadn’t she?
Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he still hadn’t decided. Bad echoed through his brain. Knee-jerk, probably, but he did have his pride, stupid as it was.
“Hello?”
Seat belts clicked into place throughout the cabin as the jet fired up and everyone was ready for takeoff.
Quinlan ignored them all until he felt someone take his wrist. He jerked then and glared at Gavin. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
Gavin held his hand out. “Just making sure you were okay, ’cause you look like hammered shit. Worse than Bray, and he’s pretty bad.”
No one said anything for a long while as the plane took off and cabin pressure built. By the time his ears popped, the boys had gotten waters and drinks, whatever they wanted.
He wanted nothing.
Gavin handed him water anyway. “So, spill before one of them beats it out of you and then I’d have to play doctor and patch you up. After I help them, of course.”
He only flipped them all off.
“I already said I was fine, didn’t I?” he snapped.
Aiden just stared at him, as did Ian. Why did those two have to be sitting across from him. Those two could pull off the worried, nearly pissed-off father routine way too well. He could hear Brody and Gabe arguing about God only knew what. Bray was nowhere to be seen. Sorry bastard was probably sleeping. Would be nice. Apparently no one was going to let him get away with that. Couldn’t really blame them though, as he had left them stranded.
“So,” Ian finally said, sitting back, opening his own water. “Vegas.”
Quinlan tried to ignore him.
“At least you didn’t come home with some gold-digging wife,” Aiden muttered.
“Nope, I left her in Vegas,” he told them.
“Speaking of, what happened to what’s her name you ditched us for?” Ian asked, his gaze sharp. “Heard she went with you, or did you take someone else?”
Gold-digging wife? If only. No, she wasn’t even that—which, all things considered, he should be thankful for. But—okay, he was—but damn it. She’d slipped out like a thief in the night. After everything they’d shared.
Connected.
He’d felt connected to the woman like he never had before.
How the hell was she going to get home and—
Gavin shoved his shoulder.
He shoved him back.
“Maybe I did get married.”
Gavin scoffed. “You?” He laughed and then laughed some more.
“So it’s true, then,” Bray grumbled from somewhere behind them all. “Satan’s
Prenup. Or was that lost? He’d have to talk to Brody—at some point. Clearly, he hadn’t called his lawyer, or said cousin and the rest of the family would have undoubtedly tried to stop the damned wedding.
Oh my God.
She could . . . Hell, he’d have to check with Brody. Though not now.
What did he really know about her?
. . . I don’t want anything . . .
Ella . . .
He saw her blue-green eyes with amber flecks in them, weird hair and pale skin. He knew so much about her, but so little. She volunteered at shelters and gave her afternoons to the elderly and taught yoga. He’d enjoyed her yoga, in more ways than one, which was totally beside the effing point.
What the hell did he do?
Ian slapped the back of his chair and slid into one across from him.
“Vegas?”
“Hey, little bro. Got tired of our party and went and made your own, huh?” Gavin muttered as he sat beside him. Someone else sat down, but Quinlan didn’t open his eyes, move, or remove his shades to see who it was. Didn’t care.
“So who was the chick? The cotton-candy-haired one? Eliza or Ellen or whatever?” Aiden asked, also across from him. The others piled in quickly. Clearly they were ready to go home as well. And why the hell wouldn’t they be? They’d planned to go home yesterday .
Home.
How the hell would she get home?
He’d left a message with the front desk in case she returned, along with an envelope of money—more than enough to see her safely back to New Orleans.
However, she left him , hadn’t she?
Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he still hadn’t decided. Bad echoed through his brain. Knee-jerk, probably, but he did have his pride, stupid as it was.
“Hello?”
Seat belts clicked into place throughout the cabin as the jet fired up and everyone was ready for takeoff.
Quinlan ignored them all until he felt someone take his wrist. He jerked then and glared at Gavin. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
Gavin held his hand out. “Just making sure you were okay, ’cause you look like hammered shit. Worse than Bray, and he’s pretty bad.”
No one said anything for a long while as the plane took off and cabin pressure built. By the time his ears popped, the boys had gotten waters and drinks, whatever they wanted.
He wanted nothing.
Gavin handed him water anyway. “So, spill before one of them beats it out of you and then I’d have to play doctor and patch you up. After I help them, of course.”
He only flipped them all off.
“I already said I was fine, didn’t I?” he snapped.
Aiden just stared at him, as did Ian. Why did those two have to be sitting across from him. Those two could pull off the worried, nearly pissed-off father routine way too well. He could hear Brody and Gabe arguing about God only knew what. Bray was nowhere to be seen. Sorry bastard was probably sleeping. Would be nice. Apparently no one was going to let him get away with that. Couldn’t really blame them though, as he had left them stranded.
“So,” Ian finally said, sitting back, opening his own water. “Vegas.”
Quinlan tried to ignore him.
“At least you didn’t come home with some gold-digging wife,” Aiden muttered.
“Nope, I left her in Vegas,” he told them.
“Speaking of, what happened to what’s her name you ditched us for?” Ian asked, his gaze sharp. “Heard she went with you, or did you take someone else?”
Gold-digging wife? If only. No, she wasn’t even that—which, all things considered, he should be thankful for. But—okay, he was—but damn it. She’d slipped out like a thief in the night. After everything they’d shared.
Connected.
He’d felt connected to the woman like he never had before.
How the hell was she going to get home and—
Gavin shoved his shoulder.
He shoved him back.
“Maybe I did get married.”
Gavin scoffed. “You?” He laughed and then laughed some more.
“So it’s true, then,” Bray grumbled from somewhere behind them all. “Satan’s
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