Quinn Family Romance Collection Read online

  Her eyes finally settled on him. They carefully swept over him like he was a criminal or a suspect. When she spoke, her voice was as chilly as her gaze. “I don’t expect you to understand Mr. Sappy Country Singer, but I am a professional security specialist and relationships are a liability.”

  Her deep brown eyes were so beautiful and so cold. A stab of disappointment went through him. The first woman who had yanked him in so quick he was dizzy, a woman who didn’t seem to be after him for his celebrity status or money, didn’t have a heart. It was par for the course. He should write about it.

  “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said.

  “Write a song about it.” She gave him a sarcastic wink, and then turned and strode away.

  Kaleb laughed at her saying exactly what he’d thought. He tracked her movements, wanting to run after her. She slid effortlessly through the crowd until she disappeared into Ryder’s house. The picture she cut in that pale blue, fitted dress with her sleek, muscular body and long, dark hair was enough to write plenty of songs about. Sadly, the coldness in her eyes had slammed him, and his illusions of love at first sight, to the ground harder than his little brother Mack could. That was saying something as Mack was a three-hundred pound, six-eight lineman for the Georgia Patriots.

  Chapter Two

  Jasmine strode into Ryder and Bree’s gorgeous home, her eyes darting around the open living area. All seemed quiet, but she knew she’d seen a man, who had no right showing his face at this wedding, slip in here while Kaleb Quinn had been talking to her by the food table. Kaleb thought her not forming relationships was “the saddest thing he’d ever heard”? Dramatic man anyway. She was proud of herself for how nonchalant and cold she’d treated him when she’d wanted to throw herself against that lovely physique of his and beg him to sing her a song and melt her heart. She smiled. That would never happen, but every girl had to have a fantasy or two.

  She heard movement from the laundry room and crept that way. As she eased through the kitchen, she hiked her dress up and pulled a knife out of its sheath on her thigh. She cleared the laundry room door and an arm snaked around her neck.

  “Aw, beautiful. Finally, I get you alone,” a deep voice with a strong Jersey accent said. That accent used to drive her insane, now it just ticked her off. How dare he come here? She’d tracked him down for Sutton Smith a couple of months ago, but they’d decided to let him go after questioning him because he helped her protect Bree and Ryder.

  Jasmine flicked the knife back against his abdomen and said, “Hi, Troy. You want me to spear you or you want to let go?”

  He reached for the knife handle as she ducked under his hold. She flipped around, slammed her left fist into the side of his mouth, and split his lip open. She held the knife up with her right hand. “Back off,” she muttered.

  Troy wiped the blood off his mouth and slowly held both hands up. His polished good looks were deceptive, not revealing the revolting criminal lurking just under the surface. “You look good, Jaz.”

  “I always look good. What are you doing here?”

  “Come on, love, you knew once you found me again I’d be coming for you. I could never give up on my best weapon, or give up on us.” He smiled and those deep brown eyes, that used to tug her in, simply infuriated her.

  “You’re a liar and a thief,” she spat at him, hating that she had been his best weapon, and his girlfriend.

  “So are you.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Part of what makes you so irresistible.”

  “That’s in the past. I’m clean now.”

  Troy laughed, deep and throaty. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

  “Why are you here?” she demanded again. Was he going to endanger her sister and Bree’s new family? Jasmine’s stomach filled with acid as her heart thumped painfully. She knew she’d bring danger to Bree. The list of people who wanted Jasmine dead was lengthy. Why had she let herself be weak enough to think she could just rejoin Bree’s life? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “For you, love.” Troy tilted his head, lowering his hands. “I’ve never worked with someone as brilliant as you,” his voice lowered, “and I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”

  “Shut it with the love crap.” Jasmine felt immense relief. He was after her, not Bree. “You need to leave, and know if I ever catch you close to my sister or her family again, I’ll split open more than your lip.” She motioned to his midsection with the knife.

  Troy’s hands went up again and he backed up a step. He knew she didn’t give idle threats. “You still care for me. I see it in your eyes.”

  Jasmine didn’t think that deserved a response.

  “You convinced Sutton Smith to let me go,” he continued. “You wouldn’t do that unless you loved me.”

  “You gave us the information we needed and you gave us the tip that protected Bree. That’s why we let you go. We’re civilized. Unlike some people I know.”

  Troy grinned. “Just ‘cause you switched sides doesn’t make you an angel, Jaz. I know how dark and twisted and gorgeous that heart of yours is.”

  Jasmine’s heart was darker than even Troy could understand. She’d been a pawn for evil since she was eight years old. A person couldn’t simply erase sins like that. “I make more money for the good guys than you’ll see in your lifetime.” She smiled coldly at him. “This has nothing to do with redemption, Troy, you should know that.” She could lie to him but not herself, secretly she hoped for redemption from her deeds every day.

  “That’s my girl.” His eyes swept over her. “When you gonna put that knife down and let me kiss you?”

  “Not in this century.”

  Footsteps came through the kitchen and Jasmine darted to Troy, flipped him around, and shoved the knife into his back. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone at this wedding party.

  “Come on, love,” he muttered, close to her face. “Just one kiss?”

  None other than Kaleb Quinn walked in. “Jasmine? You okay?”

  “Go get Griff right now,” she demanded. She didn’t want him anywhere near this scum. She could handle Troy, but if he hurt Kaleb … she’d never forgive herself.

  “I can’t leave you alone,” he said, his eyes darting from Troy to her.

  Jasmine rolled her eyes. Men sometimes. “Go!” she roared.

  “Listen to the pretty lady,” Troy sneered. “You’re way out of your league here, country boy.”

  Kaleb’s eyes narrowed, instead of leaving he pulled out his phone, pushed a couple of buttons and said, “Griff. Get into the laundry room now.”

  “Hmm.” Troy leaned back to look into Jasmine’s face, careful to arch his lower back away from the knife point. “The famous boy is quite the gentleman, won’t leave the lady alone.”

  “You shut up,” Jasmine demanded.

  “What?” Troy chuckled. “You don’t want me to tell Mr. Country Star that you and I lo—”

  Jasmine smacked him in the side of the head with the butt of the knife. He went down hard on the slate floor.

  “Jasmine!” Kaleb started forward.

  She jabbed the knife his direction, needing him far away from Troy. Troy was more lethal and shifty than a cobra. “Stay back!” she warned Kaleb.

  Kaleb put up his hands and retreated. “Are you okay?’ he asked.

  Troy struggled to his feet, holding on to the long countertop. His lip was still bleeding and a goose egg was forming on the side of his forehead. He grinned. “So sexy. Reminds me of old times, pretty girl.”

  Griff burst into the room behind Kaleb.

  Jasmine let out a breath of relief. She didn’t mind fighting anyone, but Troy’s taunts, and the remembrance of what she used to be, were messing with her head. She didn’t love Troy, never had, but she’d definitely been under his spell for a few years. How humiliating that Kaleb Quinn was getting this insight into her dark past.

  “We have an uninvited wedding guest,” she said to Griff. “Can you make sure he gets escorted off the p
roperty, and knows to never come back?”

  Griff grabbed Troy’s arms and yanked them behind his back. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jasmine opened the door leading to the garage and pushed the button to open one of the bay doors.

  Griff dragged Troy down the three stairs and through the spacious garage. Even Jasmine couldn’t best Griff. She didn’t worry about Troy getting the best of him.

  “Love you, Jaz,” Troy called over his shoulder. “I’ll be coming for you soon.”

  “I’ll kill you if you come near me again,” she said.

  His only response was a deep laugh.

  Jasmine sagged back. Two lean arms wrapped around her from behind and she was pulled into a nicely-formed chest. She glanced up and instead of spearing him, like she would with any other man, she lowered the knife to the laundry room counter.

  Kaleb Quinn. He was warm, his chest was broad and muscular, and he smelled like ginger and a woodsy forest. How could a man be so irresistible to her?

  Her heart hammered faster than it had when she was fighting with Troy. The famous man she’d daydreamed about was holding her, and it felt better than she could’ve ever imagined.

  “What are you doing?” she murmured.

  He carefully turned her in his arms and ushered her head to his chest. Jasmine felt a security and comfort she’d never known existed in this world; but at the same time she was so attracted to this man her heart was thumping with excitement and she was having difficulty catching a full breath.

  “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he murmured.

  Jasmine leaned against him for a few seconds, but she didn’t allow herself to wrap her arms around him like she yearned to do. She was impressed that he wasn’t grilling her with questions, but thinking of those questions helped her remember why she could not allow this lovely hug to continue. She didn’t allow men to hold her and comfort her. Savoring Kaleb’s smell and his well-built arms for one more second, she memorized how it felt, knowing she’d never feel it again. Then she yanked away from him and glared up at his handsome, confused face.

  “Of course I’m okay,” she bit out.

  Kaleb swallowed and she watched his smooth neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Dang, he was far too attractive. What she wouldn’t give to kiss that clean-shaven neck, inhale his cologne one more time.

  “I thought I could … comfort you.”

  Jasmine gave him a condescending smile. “Don’t think, it might be too hard on you.” She marched past him.

  “Maybe if you let down your guard for one second, you might find people want to care about you.”

  Jasmine whirled around and stared at his glorious perfection—those blue eyes, that manly-sculpted face, those lips women probably wrote songs about. Jasmine couldn’t write songs, but she could, and did, daydream about Kaleb Quinn. Her and every other woman in America.

  “That’s sweet. Sounds like one of your song lyrics.” She tilted her head and folded her arms across her chest. “Nobody in this world needs to waste time caring about me.”

  His eyes were full of disbelief, and crazily enough, it looked like she’d hurt him. Jasmine huffed out a breath. No matter how taken she was by him, a celebrity like Kaleb Quinn didn’t care about her. He just wanted to be the hero and give himself something to write another song about. She whirled and marched away from him. Luckily, he didn’t try to chase after her. If he would’ve dared, she probably would’ve knocked him on his butt. That sounded a lot safer than allowing him to pull her close again.

  Chapter Three

  Kaleb blinked against the bright lights, his palms sweaty as he gripped the mic. Concerts were not his favorite part of his life. He loved to write songs and he loved to sing them, but truth be told he was a loner who stayed far from crowds and party scenes. He’d much prefer strumming away on his guitar and singing by himself. The overly loud band behind him was making him feel like he needed to push his voice louder and stand taller for the massive crowd in the outdoor, Southern California arena.

  Twenty-five thousand screaming fans. He’d promised himself three years ago, when he first headlined at this big of a concert, he’d eventually get used to the way their screams echoed through his head. That promise hadn’t been fulfilled yet. The people screamed so loud he took Aleve before each concert, Advil at intermission, and Tylenol after he was done, and usually he still had a headache until he slept it off. He kept repeating in his mind how blessed he was to be successful at the thing he loved most, singing and song-writing. Concerts were just part of the dues he had to pay.

  There was finally a blissful pause where the crowd somewhat settled down from his last song and he could talk for half a minute about why he wrote the next song before they’d go nuts and the band would start into the instrumentals.

  “So this next song is a little bit personal …”

  Women started screaming immediately.

  Kaleb motioned for them to calm, with a big smile on his face lest he offend anyone.

  “I wrote it for my nephew, Tate.”

  The collective sigh was loud enough he had to force himself not to roll his eyes. These women didn’t know him, they didn’t know Ryder, Bree, and Tate, or the trials those three went through in their lives and the happiness they had found together.

  “You see Tate stopped speaking for a while and it was … rough. But my brother found the most amazing woman and together they helped little Tate find his voice again.”

  Another loud sigh came from the crowd.

  “It’s called, ‘Speaking Love’.”

  The crowd freaked out and he strummed the melody quietly on his guitar until they calmed down enough for him to start singing. The band had been instructed to rest during this song. Kaleb found himself fully enjoying singing the words that were straight from his heart and except for the occasional scream, whistle, or catcall, the audience seemed to truly listen for the first time that night.

  When the song finished, a respectful hush filled the stadium for a couple of beats and then several women in the front row started yelling, “Marry me, Kaleb!”

  Kaleb pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head. Why were women so into him? They didn’t know him. They only knew that he was wealthy and famous and, they claimed, good-looking. His mama would say beauty was in the eye of the beholder and the women must be stupid to care about his pretty-boy face. Thinking of his mama and her tough love quips made him smile.

  Sadly the genuine smile only served to increase the women’s screams, “Marry me!” seemed to ricochet throughout the stadium. His head was about to explode and he was sick and tired of being some sex object for women who didn’t even know him, didn’t really care about him, just wanted to be around someone famous.

  Kaleb held up a hand. “I really appreciate the offers.” He winked, hating this fake persona he had to play on the stage. He wasn’t the flirtatious charmer, that was his brother Colt, but he’d learned well how to charm, and calm down, a crowd. The chants of marry me just grew louder.

  “Sorry ladies,” he said quickly into the mic, “I’m already engaged.”

  What in the world had he just said? Calm down a crowd? Talk about stick his foot in his mouth. He hadn’t dated anyone seriously since his college girlfriend who turned into a psycho stalker. That nightmarish relationship had been enough to scar him for at least a decade.

  The band members behind him sucked in loud breaths. Kaleb wondered what his face was doing as the pain in his head intensified. Had he really just lied to twenty-five thousand people? Guaranteed the entire world would know by tomorrow morning, if people weren’t already Tweeting about it right now.

  “To who?”

  “No! No!”

  “Who? Who? Who?”

  The chants grew insane again. Kaleb didn’t know if he should just start singing, come up with a name, or tell everyone he’d been joking. The only option that seemed realistic was a name. He grinned big to cover the churning in his gut. “Y’all don’t know her but she�
��s feisty, funny, and tough, wouldn’t give her heart away easily …” The face that popped into his head was all those things and more. “Her name is Jasmine.”

  Thankfully having a name calmed them down, but it didn’t do much for his nerves. He started into the next song, but his mind was so distracted he could hardly form the words. Had he really just made this situation even worse? Jasmine. Seriously? He’d do anything to have a chance with Bree’s spunky sister, but if she got wind of what he’d done she’d laugh herself to sleep at night.

  He made it through the next few songs and off the stage to thunderous applause. His assistant Kelly was waiting for him with a water bottle and chilled towel.

  “Thank you,” he murmured.

  She nodded shortly, glaring at him from her thickly-lashed green eyes. Those spider-leg-looking things on her eyes had to be fake. “Jasmine?” she spit out.

  Kaleb almost told her it was all a lie but Kelly had tried several times over the past few years to push boundaries with him and she was always rubbing his back or pushing her voluptuous chest against his arm. He was ready for all the women in his life to back off. From his hairstylist to his cleaning ladies, he got hit on far too often. If only Jasmine would be interested in him. When he’d pulled her close at Bree and Ryder’s spring wedding it had stirred him deeply. She’d pushed him away quick enough that he knew she would never be interested. It had been a month since he’d seen her but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was insane.

  “Yeah, she’s great. You’ll love her.”

  Kelly’s eyes widened. She’d obviously thought he was lying. Perceptive, wasn’t she?

  “Oh, um … Congrats. When did you meet her?”

  “Christmas. You remember when I went to Kauai? She lives there so we don’t see each other much. Lots of Skype calls.” He nodded and walked past her toward his dressing room. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Uh-huh,” she murmured to his back.

  Kaleb knew his mama would be muttering something about the lies we weave. He was an idiot and he was in serious trouble.