Read Online Love, Diamonds, and Spades by Violet Duke - Free Book Online
Authors: Violet Duke
Tags: Romance
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the tent broke up the moment.
“I did it! I did it!” The tent unzipped and Reese came shooting out, and running toward Rylan, arms raised in triumph like Rocky. “I finished that last page! You were so right, I just needed to try it again.”
“I’m proud of you, little man. Okay, go turn off the light in the tent and be sure to bring your jacket with you. Dinner’s all ready.”
Grabbing a plate and tongs, Rylan loaded up three plates of food with veggie cabobs, ears of sweet corn, hot dogs, bratwursts, and buns. Quinn’s mouth watered the entire time. Over the food, of course.
Although she had to admit, there was something pretty appealing about a guy who grilled.
While they all waited for the hotdogs to cool down a bit, Rylan moved the rest of the food off the fire before handing Reese a ziploc bag of granulated sugar. “Okay, so now my end of the bargain. Try sprinkling some on the fire.” He demonstrated with a small pinches of sugar and Quinn watched as the fire sparkled and flashed in a cool light show of sorts. Reese hopped up and down excitedly. “Not too much though. And remember, don’t pass the line we drew in the dirt.”
Reese proceeded to dance around the fire—behind the line—and hoot and cheer every time he sprinkled more sugar flashes on the fire.
Quinn couldn’t help but watch Rylan grinning at Reese with that eye-crinkling smile of his that did crazy things to her insides.
“Aw.” Reese made a sad puppy dog look and showed them both the empty ziploc bag.
“We’ll do more another time, bud. Let’s get some food in you before your mom comes home. She’ll be here any minute.”
Reese hopped back over and took a big bite out of his ketchup and mustard slathered half of a hot dog. Rylan had the other half on his plate.
“He only eats half?” she asked in surprise. “Cooper can put away and entire hot dog, easily.”
“So can Reese. But I only give him half at a time. I hold the rest hostage so he eats his veggies.” He ruffled Reese’s hair affectionately.
Oh boy, her ovaries just swooned.
Rylan reached behind him for a long sleeve flannel shirt and handed it to her. “It’s cold,” he said simply.
Her instant melting over his brand of gruff sweetness was when she didn’t just know the truth, but accepted it as well. The same truth she’d been trying to deny on the car ride over here. The same one she’d been ignoring for the past few weeks.
She had a big, insane crush on a gambling musician.
And it was growing by the minute.
* * * * *
AS HE LISTENED to Reese and Marcy walk back over to their house, Rylan pulled his chair closer to Quinn’s and waited for whatever question had been patiently poised on her lips all night. She’d come over to ask him a question, he was certain of it.
“You said you don’t gamble for money,” began Quinn finally, looking him square in the eye. “So what do you gamble on?”
And there it was.
He wasn’t oblivious. Over the past few weeks, he’d seen her flinch every time he mentioned gambling. But he hadn’t wanted to push. The flashes of pain in her eyes following punched him in the gut each time.
So he’d waited, knowing that if she asked the question, then it would mean she cared enough about him not to want him doing the one thing seemingly attached to nightmares in her past.
“Chores,” he answered softly. “We bet on chores.”
Quinn shot her eyes up to meet his to see if he was kidding.
He never kidded about chores.
The slow, glorious smile that bloomed across her face. “And this is the high stakes game the town is always talking about?” she asked, amusement dancing across her features.
“You bet,” he replied in an utterly serious tone. “Everyone in my weekly game has a set of chores we absolutely hate to do. And every week, at the end of the night, whoever won the pot gets to make the first one who ran out of chips do those chores.”
A relieved, mirth-filled laugh escaped Quinn.
“I did it! I did it!” The tent unzipped and Reese came shooting out, and running toward Rylan, arms raised in triumph like Rocky. “I finished that last page! You were so right, I just needed to try it again.”
“I’m proud of you, little man. Okay, go turn off the light in the tent and be sure to bring your jacket with you. Dinner’s all ready.”
Grabbing a plate and tongs, Rylan loaded up three plates of food with veggie cabobs, ears of sweet corn, hot dogs, bratwursts, and buns. Quinn’s mouth watered the entire time. Over the food, of course.
Although she had to admit, there was something pretty appealing about a guy who grilled.
While they all waited for the hotdogs to cool down a bit, Rylan moved the rest of the food off the fire before handing Reese a ziploc bag of granulated sugar. “Okay, so now my end of the bargain. Try sprinkling some on the fire.” He demonstrated with a small pinches of sugar and Quinn watched as the fire sparkled and flashed in a cool light show of sorts. Reese hopped up and down excitedly. “Not too much though. And remember, don’t pass the line we drew in the dirt.”
Reese proceeded to dance around the fire—behind the line—and hoot and cheer every time he sprinkled more sugar flashes on the fire.
Quinn couldn’t help but watch Rylan grinning at Reese with that eye-crinkling smile of his that did crazy things to her insides.
“Aw.” Reese made a sad puppy dog look and showed them both the empty ziploc bag.
“We’ll do more another time, bud. Let’s get some food in you before your mom comes home. She’ll be here any minute.”
Reese hopped back over and took a big bite out of his ketchup and mustard slathered half of a hot dog. Rylan had the other half on his plate.
“He only eats half?” she asked in surprise. “Cooper can put away and entire hot dog, easily.”
“So can Reese. But I only give him half at a time. I hold the rest hostage so he eats his veggies.” He ruffled Reese’s hair affectionately.
Oh boy, her ovaries just swooned.
Rylan reached behind him for a long sleeve flannel shirt and handed it to her. “It’s cold,” he said simply.
Her instant melting over his brand of gruff sweetness was when she didn’t just know the truth, but accepted it as well. The same truth she’d been trying to deny on the car ride over here. The same one she’d been ignoring for the past few weeks.
She had a big, insane crush on a gambling musician.
And it was growing by the minute.
* * * * *
AS HE LISTENED to Reese and Marcy walk back over to their house, Rylan pulled his chair closer to Quinn’s and waited for whatever question had been patiently poised on her lips all night. She’d come over to ask him a question, he was certain of it.
“You said you don’t gamble for money,” began Quinn finally, looking him square in the eye. “So what do you gamble on?”
And there it was.
He wasn’t oblivious. Over the past few weeks, he’d seen her flinch every time he mentioned gambling. But he hadn’t wanted to push. The flashes of pain in her eyes following punched him in the gut each time.
So he’d waited, knowing that if she asked the question, then it would mean she cared enough about him not to want him doing the one thing seemingly attached to nightmares in her past.
“Chores,” he answered softly. “We bet on chores.”
Quinn shot her eyes up to meet his to see if he was kidding.
He never kidded about chores.
The slow, glorious smile that bloomed across her face. “And this is the high stakes game the town is always talking about?” she asked, amusement dancing across her features.
“You bet,” he replied in an utterly serious tone. “Everyone in my weekly game has a set of chores we absolutely hate to do. And every week, at the end of the night, whoever won the pot gets to make the first one who ran out of chips do those chores.”
A relieved, mirth-filled laugh escaped Quinn.
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