“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” she asked softly.
He was afraid she was going to move away, so he quickly said, “I do...trust me,” as he gathered her in his arms, rolled with her and took the lead, returning every kiss she’d delivered to his flesh with a kiss of his own to hers. Never a passive lover, she arched and writhed and rose against him, and soon they were locked together, the world around them disappearing as they made love. By the time they reached a searing climax they were panting and damp, lying side by side, truly exhausted in the best way. He pulled her back into his arms.
She started to arch away from him. “Quinn...”
He pulled her back down to him and nuzzled her ear softly. “You really don’t know...”
She laughed softly and whispered in return, “Oh, but I do.”
They made love again, and it was beautiful. Finally they slept, bodies completely entangled.
*
Danni knew that Quinn worried about her when he wasn’t with her, but she didn’t intend to give an inch on what she had done the night before. She really hadn’t behaved stupidly; she’d made sure to call the police. In retrospect, she should have called him, too, and told him to head straight to Jenny and Brad’s, but still, he would have done the same thing in her shoes.
She knew, too, that Billie’s suggestion of who should go where tonight made the most sense. She was sure Quinn knew it, too. He just wasn’t great at admitting it when he had to accept a solution he didn’t wholeheartedly embrace, so she didn’t say anything to him later, when he simply let the plans for the evening ride. He had, however, she learned, called Father Ryan and Natasha, who had both promised to come to La Porte Rouge and stay there. Both had been appalled to learn that Jenny had nearly been attacked, and Father Ryan—being a fighting man’s priest, for certain—was doubly determined to keep an eye on Danni.
Maybe, she mused, that was enough to allow Quinn to accept the situation.
There wasn’t much of the day left by the time they were all awake, had made some kind of meal that was breakfast, lunch and dinner rolled into one and gotten dressed and ready for the night.
That took longer than usual, since Brad and Jenny had to borrow from Quinn and Danni, since neither of them had much of an appetite for going back to their house just yet.
Danni was much taller than Jenny, though, and Quinn had several inches on Brad, as well as a bigger build generally. Bo Ray and Billie both offered up whatever they had, and in the end Brad settled on a pair of jeans from Bo Ray and a T-shirt from Quinn. Danni had a dress she didn’t wear often, because she considered it too short, which made it perfect for Jenny.
Bo Ray assured them that he had the store under control, but despite his confidence, they had no intention of leaving until the shop was closed, the house was all locked down and Wolf was prepared to guard Bo Ray and the premises while they were out.
Quinn left first with Brad and Jenny. Before Danni was ready to head out with Billie, she paused to ask Bo Ray, “You’re sure you’re fine? You know not to open the door. I’ll be just a few blocks away, up on Bourbon. Well, you know that. If anything happens—”
“I’ll call 911 and then you,” Bo Ray said. “And I’m fine. Well, I’m fine ’cause you’re leaving me Wolf. I wouldn’t be so fine if you weren’t.”
She smiled, hunkered down to give Wolf a big hug before leaving and then kissed Bo Ray on the cheek, as well.
Billie—despite his grumpiness of the morning—was in a good mood as they made their way through the Saturday night crowds that already thronged Bourbon Street. He didn’t even complain when a slightly inebriated young woman leaning over a balcony above them managed to pelt him almost in the face with a strand of brightly colored Mardi Gras beads.
At least she called down an apology.
When they reached La Porte Rouge, a folksinger was entertaining the crowd. The young woman had a lovely voice, Danni thought, but her songs were slow, and people weren’t paying much attention. When she finished one number, Danni nudged Billie, and they both made a point of clapping enthusiastically, drawing the attention and finally the applause of the other patrons.
Tyler was alone, sitting at one of the round high-top tables near the stage. Danni claimed a stool beside him and explained that they were down one guitarist, and told him what had happened.
Tyler listened gravely. “Well, I’m glad we have you,” he said cheerfully.
“Really?” she said disbelievingly.
“Yeah, really. Jessica was saying the other night that there are a few numbers she’d like to do with you if there’s a chance for her to join us onstage. Now, that would be great—the two of you up there together. All those hormonal frat boys would go crazy.”
“Great,” Danni murmured.
“Frat boys pay with good money for lots of drinks,” Tyler said.