Page 28 of The Cowboy's Christmas
Give yourself, give everyone, some time.
Right.
He hadn’t really had time to sort things out yet. To process.
He’d met his brothers, got smacked with an emotional wallop he hadn’t seen coming; wrecked his truck; helped on a ranch; got stranded on a mountain and rescued by an attractive woman with mile-high barriers—all in a little over twenty-four hours.
He needed a drink, and the bar in the Graff seemed like the place to do it. But he didn’t go to the bar immediately. Instead, he ordered room service, showered, dug a fresh rawhide bone out of his travel bag for Pepper, then headed downstairs. He’d barely set foot in the lobby when a blonde sailed across the room and launched herself at him.
“I’m not Austin.”
The words came shooting out of his mouth as the woman enveloped him in a bear hug. She stepped back with a frown, still holding his shoulders as she squinted up at him.
“Good thing, Gina,” the woman’s friend said, “or Kristen might have to take you apart.” Quinn hadn’t met Austin’s wife, but, somehow, he didn’t think she’d be the taking apart kind. But…he didn’t know.
“How are you not Austin?” Gina asked. “You are like a…” her gaze traveled up and down his frame, “…taller clone.”
Perhaps staying in the most popular hotel in Marietta had been a mistake. He had no idea how his brothers were handling his existence. Yes, they’d agreed to be open about things, but maybe they wanted to spread the word themselves in their own way, rather than have Quinn stir up a lot of speculation by walking around being mistaken for Austin.
Quinn merely smiled, rather than explain, and when Gina’s friend understood what he was doing, she looped her arm through her friend’s and pulled her away. Quinn watched them go, then started into the bar, only to catch the attractive blond bartender with the amazing braids quickly pulling her gaze away as she focused on wiping the pristine bar. Decision made, he turned and headed to the elevator. A few minutes later he came back down with Pepper on her leash and crossed the lobby to the exit, not making eye contact with anyone. He wasn’t up for another Austin encounter, and he was beginning to think that instead of staying at this hotel, he should seek out a quieter motel on the outskirts of town. Not that he didn’t appreciate the place; it was simply frequented by too many locals. Too many people who could mistake him for his brother. The situation was making him jumpy. Things were a lot more relaxed when he was invisible.
