The Crusaders by B. C. Burgess

Author:B. C. Burgess [Burgess, B. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult Paranormal
Goodreads: 36443822
Publisher: Bandit Publishing
Published: 2017-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

After a few hours of shopping, they returned to the inn, but following a quick trip to the room, they left again. All three of them were hungry, so Quin led them downstairs, presumably to the inn’s restaurant. But they bypassed the bustling lobby and walked out the back door to the beach… where Quin had arranged for a fireside picnic.

Layla halted, her heart melting as she stared at the gorgeous setting. Then she turned into Quin and whispered. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“You did this?” Travis asked.

“I made a phone call,” Quin answered. “It wasn’t hard.”

Layla reached for his cheek and urged his gaze to hers. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. Then they took off their flip-flops and settled themselves on the blanket.

Travis still stood beside it, admiring the ocean view, but he eventually shook his head and looked at Quin. “You’re smooth,” he noted, joining them on the blanket.

Quin laughed as he poured everyone wine. “I’m just lucky.”

Layla smirked as she accepted her glass. “He’s being modest again.”

“I know,” Travis replied. “So how often do ya pull stuff like this?”

Quin reached up to relieve a waiter of his tray. Then he set it in the middle of the blanket while responding to Travis. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“I’m askin’ if ya always impress your company.”

“Yes,” Layla answered, picking through the array of hors d’oeuvres. “He impresses me every day.”

“Oh yeah?” Quin asked.

“Yeah,” she playfully repeated, offering him a bite.

Travis watched them for a moment. Then he helped himself to the appetizer while soberly addressing Quin. “So how often?”

Quin and Layla looked at him in confusion, and after taking a moment to recall what he was talking about, Quin answered. “I guess every day. Why do you ask?”

“You’re obviously a player, Quin. If I was a guessin’ man, I’d say you charmed the pants off countless ladies before Layla came along...”

“Travis,” Layla scolded, but Quin laid a hand on her leg.

“It’s okay, love. Let him finish.”

“My point is,” Travis went on, “you’ve made an art form outta impressin’ your company, and I wanna know if Layla’s just another project, another check mark in your little black book.”

“No. I don’t have a little black book, and if I did, every page would be filled with Layla’s name. She’s not a project. She’s my life, and it will be that way until the day I die.”

Ever touched by Quin’s sentiments, by the way he delivered them – confident, calm and sincere, with solid eye contact and without an ounce of hesitation – Layla touched her lips to his bicep and whispered. “Thank you.”

He smiled as he kissed her curls, and she looked at Travis. “Are you satisfied?”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry, Layla, but ya gotta admit, this looks suspicious.”

“Maybe, but only because you don’t know him. It was the same for me at first. I had no idea why he was being so polite and thoughtful...”

“Because you’re gorgeous,” Travis interrupted.

“That’s true,” Quin advocated, raising his glass.

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