An Uncommon Honeymoon Page 2

  “On it.”

  “Halt! Jetzt!” the voice shouted.

  Quinn launched over the last three steps and stuck her landing next to the door that exited to the ground floor.

  She stooped, took her tranquilizer pistol from its holster, and slipped it into her lab coat pocket. James did the same.

  Shoulder against the door, she held the handle and looked in James’s face. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Quinn yanked open the door. They left the stairwell and kept their steps measured down the short corridor and into the lobby.

  Her eyes darted about, surveying the area. Two security guards stationed on either side of the exit scanned faces as people left the building.

  Quinn slipped her hand into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the pistol’s grip. She looked through the glass doors. No sign of the van. “Darius?”

  “Almost there,” Darius said. She heard the blast of a car horn. “Move it, ya jerk!”

  James glanced around. “Hurry up, buddy.”

  “Halt! ”

  Quinn looked over her shoulder. The guard from the stairwell sprinted toward them, pistol in hand. He did not look happy.

  She withdrew her pistol, whirled around, and fired.

  At the sound of the gunshot, shrieks broke out. People dove for cover.

  The security guard stumbled forward, his face registering shock. He dropped to his knees and collapsed facedown on the marble floor.

  Next to her, James fired off two shots. She spun around and watched the two guards by the door drop.

  Quinn and James sprinted past the unconscious men and burst through the front doors, leaving chaos in their wake.

  To their left, a black van took a turn at an impressive clip. Two of its tires nearly lifted off the ground.

  They darted across the cement courtyard and arrived at the edge of the parking lot at the same time the van screeched to a stop.

  James jerked open the back door. Quinn flung the briefcase into the back of the van and dove in after it. James hauled himself up behind her. “Go!” he shouted and slammed the door.

  The van’s violent acceleration sent Quinn tumbling backward. She crashed into James, pinning him against the back. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed the side of her head.

  Trembling from the river of adrenaline coursing through her veins, she had no intention of moving. “Well, that was exciting.”

  “It was,” he replied. “If we can handle that, our wedding will be a breeze.”

  Chapter Two

  Quinn rifled through the clothes piled in her suitcase. Where had she put those blasted things?

  The chiming phone in her pocket interrupted her frantic search. She huffed a breath to stop the rising panic and checked the screen. A soft smile formed when she saw the photo of James smiling back at her.

  She put the phone to her ear. “Hey.”

  “Hey. I want to apologize for how awkward it got with my parents tonight. Ever since my mom left and opened that oxygen bar in Arizona, my dad has a hard time being in the same room with her. He’s still bitter.”

  “Well, it hasn’t been that long. I’m sure her showing up at the rehearsal dinner with her new boyfriend didn’t help matters. How are you? Are you okay?”

  He sighed. “I guess. I just wish she’d left Xander in Sedona. Him being here just adds to the drama. Mom and Kelsey are already hardly speaking to each other.”

  Quinn had noticed the strain between James’s mother and younger sister. She wasn’t about to mention it now, though.

  As if trying to shake off his melancholy, he sounded more upbeat when he said, “Just so you know, you made a good impression on Mom. She said you’re lovely and charming and I am lucky to be marrying you.”

  “Well, duh,” she said, teasing him. “Seriously, though, that’s sweet of her to say. I hope I get a chance to get to know her better. Meeting your future mother-in-law for the first time the day before the wedding isn’t optimal.”

  “No, it’s not. But with you in training at the Farm and me in Moscow, it couldn’t be helped. We were lucky to squeeze in time with my dad and Kelsey in Colorado after we got engaged and before I left.” James’s father, Steven, was a corporate lawyer in Denver.

  “True. Speaking of parents, I saw my dad had you cornered. You kinda looked like you were about to be devoured by a grizzly bear.”

  James breathed a quiet laugh. “That’s about right.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said he was proud to have me as a son-in-law and if we ever needed anything, we could come to him.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “No, it was a nice thing to say. But then he gave me this eagle-eyed stare and said in this bone-chilling way, ‘If you ever hurt Quincy, you’ll answer to me.’”

  “Oh boy. Sorry about that,” she said ruefully. “He’s a little overprotective.”

  “No worries. I get it. You’re his only daughter. I told him he’d have to wait until you got through with me first.”

  She laughed. “I bet he appreciated that.”

  “I think he did. He smirked a little, like, ‘Yeah, that’s my girl, all right.’ And then your mom came over and told him your grandfather needed to talk to him.”

  “Grandpa to the rescue.” Her grandfather, a longtime member of the CIA and the man who had recruited her into the agency, never missed a thing.

  “Like a superhero. After your dad left, your mom assured me his bark is worse than his bite.”

  “It’s true. Just don’t tell anyone at Pendleton. He has a reputation to uphold.”

  “My lips are sealed.” Shifting gears, he asked, “How are you? Ready for tomorrow?”

  “So ready.” Quinn’s hotel room door opened and Nicole Park Baldwin, her best friend, matron of honor, and roommate for the night walked in. She acknowledged Nicole with a quick wave and said to James, “I’m kinda freaking out, though. I can’t find the earrings I was planning on wearing tomorrow. Grandma wore them when she and Grandpa got married.”

  Nicole shook her head and rolled her eyes. She walked to the nightstand, picked up a small red box, and flipped open the top. Holding it out for Quinn to see, she said, “You mean these?”

  With an embarrassed smile, Quinn answered, “Um, yeah. Those.”

  Nicole snapped the box closed and returned it to the nightstand. “That’s it. You’ve officially lost it. Time for us to find you something to do.”

  “But it’s late and—”

  “It’s not that late. Tell James good night and you’ll see him tomorrow.”

  Quinn shot her a defiant look. “Who said I’m talking to James?”

  Nicole’s response was a flat stare.

  “Okay, fine. I’m talking to James.”

  “Who you left at the rehearsal dinner an hour ago,” Nicole stated.

  “You’d better do what she says,” James said, amusement coloring his voice.

  From the determined look on Nicole’s face, Quinn knew it was pointless to argue. “You’re right,” she said to James. “What are you going to do?”

  “Madison and Monroe said something about taking me down to the bar for a drink.”

  “Oh boy.” Her twin brothers were always up to something.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let Fred and George lead me astray.”

  She grinned. Their shared love of all things Harry Potter made her incredibly happy. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Can’t wait. I love you. Good night.”

  “I love you, too. Good night.”

  She’d barely ended the call when Nicole said, “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Quinn stood firm and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you promise me we’re not going pole dancing again. You talked me into those lessons for my bachelorette party. Once was enough.”

  “You should keep it up. You’re a natural. I bet James would love to install a pole in your apartmen
t.” Nicole smirked when Quinn snorted. “And relax, would you? There’s a fro-yo place not far from here.”

  Quinn cast a wary glance. “Frozen yogurt?” She looked over at the clock. “I guess we could go and get back before it gets too late.”

  “Exactly.” Quinn caught her purse when Nicole tossed it at her. “Let’s go.”

  A few minutes later, they were in Nicole’s car, driving along the streets of Los Angeles, crowded with people ready to blow off some steam on a Friday night.

  Quinn didn’t say anything when Nicole drove past the first yogurt place. When they sailed past a second, she spoke up. “Is there some special fro-yo shop we’re going to? Because we’ve already passed a couple.”

  Nicole peeked over at her and then looked out the windshield again. “We’re not going for fro-yo.”

  “What? Where the hell are you taking me?” When Nicole didn’t answer immediately, Quinn’s annoyance was obvious when she said, “This isn’t funny, Nic. I’m getting married tomorrow. Take me back to the hotel.”

  Nicole continued to drive, unfazed. “I’m fully aware you’re getting married tomorrow. Trust me. I understand exactly how you feel. Nervous. Excited. Jumpy. I went through the same thing myself less than a year ago. Remember?”

  Quinn did recall the day, even through the fog of disappointment, when she’d been convinced James was about to break up with her. He’d proposed to her instead. “Yeah, I remember.” And Nicole described exactly how Quinn felt: nervous, excited, and jumpy.

  “And to get you through the rest of this evening without going completely bonkers, we’re going to go to a karaoke place—”

  “Nic—”

  Nicole held up her hand. “Just for a little while, to take your mind off the wedding. Because, come on. It’s consumed your brain every waking minute for, like, the past month, right?”

  Other than when she and James had been in Ziegler’s office during the op the week before, what Nicole said was true. “Okay, yeah.” Quinn huffed a laugh and confessed, “Not just when I’m awake. Last night, I dreamed I was driving myself to the ceremony and I couldn’t find the church. I drove all over in a complete panic.”

  “See? Your brain needs this. It’ll be fun.”

  The idea of not stressing about the wedding even for an hour or two was enticing. Quinn side-eyed her friend. “If we end up in jail, I’m never speaking to you again.”

  Nicole laughed. “No jail time. I promise. And you’ve gone to karaoke with me before. Not once has it ended in incarceration.”

  “True. Okay. I’m in, but just as a spectator.”

  “Good,” Nicole said as she wheeled the car into the strip mall parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

  Quinn got out and looked at the illuminated sign above the door that led into the unassuming bar tucked between a dry cleaner and nail salon. “You’ve got to be kidding. Sing and Swig?”

  “Give it a chance. We’re librarians. We don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  Quinn closed the car door and noted the darkened windows featuring a Coors beer neon sign. “Yes, we do and you know it.”

  “Okay, bad example.” Nicole’s car chirped when she set the alarm. “If it’s a total dive, say the word and we’ll leave and go get fro-yo for real. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Quinn opened the door and was smacked in the face by a wall of sound. Every voice in the bar sang along with the man on the small stage sporting a beer gut and male pattern baldness. He pumped his fist in the air as he wailed the chorus of “Livin’ on a Prayer.”

  As the crowd continued to sing along with the Bon Jovi wannabe, Quinn and Nicole meandered through the dark, crowded room to one of the few empty tables. “Gonna grab a couple of drinks for us. Be right back,” Nicole said.

  “Just get me a bottle of water,” Quinn called out to Nicole’s retreating form. “She’s not going to bring me water,” she mumbled as she sat.

  Quinn clapped for the man who’d just finished his inspired version of the rock classic while she inspected the room. It was unremarkable, with posters advertising various brands of beer tacked to the walls. And despite the fact any calendar would indicate it was the waning days of May, colored Christmas lights were strung along the walls. Lyrics scrolled on a large monitor attached to the wall behind the stage. As her recent training had drilled her to do, she also took note of the exits in the room.

  The crowd was comprised mostly of professionals looking to start their weekends off with a bang. The largest single group was one of eight women, all in their mid to late twenties, crammed around two tables pushed together. Quinn and Nicole could have joined them and not appeared out of place. Three of the young women squealed and bounded to the stage when it was their turn. They launched into an enthusiastic rendition of “Shake It Off.”

  Quinn tapped her foot to the beat and smiled when the women flicked their hands in the air as if literally shaking it off. Her smile turned to a scowl, though, when Nicole walked toward their table. In each hand, she carried a shot glass filled with pale amber liquid. A lime wedge had been placed atop the salt-coated rim of each glass.

  “I hope both of those tequila shots are for you and the water is mine,” Quinn said, eyeing the plastic bottle clamped between Nicole’s upper arm and rib cage.

  As she sat, Nicole set one of the glasses in front of Quinn. Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but Nicole cut her off before she could utter a word.

  “I know. You don’t want to be hungover the day of your wedding. You know I won’t let that happen. One shot. That’s all I ask. It’ll take the edge off.” Nicole set the bottle on table. “Drink all the water you want after that.”

  A blanket of nerves had covered her for days. Having it lift, if only for a little while, was tempting. “I guess one shot won’t hurt.” The second she uttered those words, she hoped they wouldn’t end up in the Words You Regretted Saying Hall of Fame. In one swift movement, she picked up the glass, downed the tequila in one gulp, and bit the lime. She slammed the glass on the table, shuddered, and squeezed her eyes shut as the tequila burned its way down her throat. The fire in her chest rapidly spread and warmed her to her fingertips. She opened her eyes and grinned at Nicole.

  Her friend nodded in approval. “Better?”

  Quinn rolled her shoulders. The knots that had been there for months untangled. “Better.”

  Nicole slid the glass in front of her across the table. “If one is good, two is better.” When Quinn squinted at her, Nicole gave her a passive look. “I shouldn’t drink it anyway. I’m driving.”

  Quinn considered her friend for a moment. “Last one,” she said and slammed back the shot. Her toes began to tingle. “Get me a couple more, would you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Nicole said with a frown. “I promised you no hangover.”

  Quinn cracked the top on the water bottle, tipped it back, and took several long pulls. “Good, because that was a test. You passed.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Q.”

  “You’re welcome. And as a reward, I’ll go up there and sing something.”

  Nicole’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “But only if you go with me, since you’re the karaoke maven.”

  “Deal,” Nicole answered without hesitation and leaped from her chair. As Nicole made a beeline for the DJ, Quinn felt like she should worry that she had no say in what they would be singing in front of a large group of strangers. The thing was, she had a hard time caring. She’d learned long ago when it came to hanging out with Nicole, it was best to go with the flow.

  The prim smile and glint in Nicole’s eyes told Quinn her friend was extremely pleased with herself.

  “What did you do?” Quinn asked.

  “Trust me. I picked the perfect song.”

  “I’m beginning to regret my moment of spontaneity.” The number of cringe-worthy ditties Nicole could choose from was stomach churning. “I refuse to bark my way through ‘Who Let the Do
gs Out?’”

  “Won’t have to.” Nicole smirked. “You know how to do the Macarena, right?”

  Quinn pushed back her chair and started to roll onto her feet. “I’m outta here.”

  Laughing, Nicole grabbed her hand and tugged her back into her seat. “I’m just kidding. You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s perfect.”

  “Now I’m curious.”

  Nicole’s response was an inscrutable smile.

  As they waited their turn, they watched and cheered for the parade of singers who took the stage. Some were surprisingly good. Some couldn’t to carry a tune if their lives depended on it and didn’t give a furry rat’s behind. And they were awesome.

  The only performance that gave Quinn pause was when one of the well-dressed guys at the table next to them performed “Blurred Lines.” He preened. He strutted. He smiled and winked.

  Quinn leaned over to Nicole. “If I thought he was kidding around, I might give him a little slack. But he’s just a prick, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, for sure. He’s a complete douchenozzle.”

  He finished his song and returned to his seat. Quinn rolled her eyes when she overheard him say, “I crushed it. I’m the best by far tonight.”

  Quinn and Nicole were next. As Nicole towed Quinn onto the stage, Quinn expected her nerves to overtake her and send her scurrying back to her seat. They didn’t. Instead, she felt a little giddy. It was then she realized the tequila shots had taken hold.

  Like the karaoke aficionado she was, Nicole snatched a microphone and announced, “My girl here is getting married tomorrow.”

  Cheers and hoots erupted from the crowd. Quinn grinned and gave them a little wave.

  “She really loves him—”

  “Awww,” the crowd cooed in one voice.

  “And they’re gonna get married.” Nicole paused and beamed at Quinn. “So they’re going to the chapel of love.” Nicole began to sing “Chapel of Love,” changing the pronouns on the fly as appropriate.

  The crowd cheered when Quinn joined in. It wasn’t long before the entire room sang along each time the chorus rolled around.

  Emboldened by the enthusiasm in the room, Quinn bopped and shimmied alongside Nicole as they sang together.