He gunned the engine, taking a tight curve. He was going to try, all right. He was going to try to get her to fall in love with him tonight. After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Chapter Twenty
Ginny
The Seattle Pinball Museum was located in the Chinatown-International District. Quinn parked outside the gorgeous gate done in red, blue, green, and gold, complete with carved dragons and a tile roof. They walked underneath, both of them gazing up.
Inside the gate, a group of ten men in red polo shirts danced a fabric dragon through the tourists milling about. There was a busy bar and grill on the corner, as well as a tea company and a food market down from there.
“This way.” Quinn took her hand, sending her heart rate dancing right along with the dragon. They made their way down the street, passing multiple shops that she made a note to come visit again.
“I didn’t know this place was here. It’s wonderful.” There were multiple languages being spoken around her, and for a moment, she forgot she was supposed to be in charge, and she just let herself be happy and free.
“I thought you’d like it.” He kissed the back of her hand, his eyes lingering on her lips.
She blushed, feeling like there was more to that look than she should allow. Yet she wanted to stop pretending that she wasn’t falling for him. When he was sweet to her, she had the hardest time separating her best friend from the man she wanted to kiss.
A small neon sign was the only indication that they’d made it to the pinball museum. Inside, the walls were painted blue and there were pinball machines lined up with only inches of space between them. The whole place could fit in her office.
Quinn reached for his wallet. “Do we need tokens or anything?” he asked the employee at the desk.
“It’s free to play. If you’d like to make a donation, feel free,” said the acne-prone teen. He didn’t look up from his comic book.
Quinn rubbed his hands together. “Which one do you want to lose on first?”
She bumped his hip with hers. “That would be your decision to make.”
He clasped his hands together and bounced them lightly them off his chin as he studied the selection. There were machines from long before either of them was born all the way up to the exact Ghostbusters model they’d had in the student lounge. Quinn met her eyes, and they dashed down the line.
“‘If there’s somethin’ strange, in your neighborhood,’” she sang.
“‘Who ya gonna call?’” Quinn asked in a deep voice.
“‘Ghostbusters.’” She was laughing too hard to get the word all the way out.
He laughed with her. “Ladies first.”
She lined up, pulled back the plunger, and let the ball fly. The game didn’t disappoint, and she ended up with a score of 110,000.
“Not bad. Not bad.” He rubbed his palms together. “But I’ll bet I can take you down.”
“‘I ain’t afraid of no ghost.’” She chanted along as the song played.
Quinn’s arms gripped the side of the machine, making his muscles stand out. Ginny bit her lip. She couldn’t stop herself and had to touch his tricep. Quinn fumbled with the flippers and the ball sank through the middle hole, ending his turn.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” She pointed to his score of 78,000.
He growled and grabbed her around the middle. “You cheated.”
“You can’t cheat at pinball.” She half-heartedly protested the restraint by pounding lightly on his shoulder. The truth was, she enjoyed being held by him and didn’t want him to put her down.
He did, though, right in front of a Star Wars machine with a picture of Han holding a blaster on the front. “I want a rematch.” He placed his hands on either side of her, caging her in. “But I’m not playing fair this time.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do your worst.”
His wicked grin had her wondering if they’d turned off the air conditioning. It shouldn’t be this hot in here.
As she turned to face the machine, the scent of Quinton’s cologne filled her senses, and she blinked at the board, wondering what she was supposed to do. Ball. Right. She pulled the plunger back, her arm grazing his taut belly. She almost swooned. After a few seconds of play, when she was finally wrapping her head around what she was doing, Quinn brushed her hair over one shoulder, his fingers grazing her skin and leaving a trail of heat.
