by Nikki Ash
My first instinct is to run and hide and that really pisses me off because that’s what the Quinn post-Rick would do, and I don’t want to be that woman anymore. At the same time, I don’t want to be the young Quinn who would’ve confronted him right here, making a scene. So instead, I do what I think the thirty-nine-year-old Quinn should do. I continue my walk over to the bar and order a drink. I’m generally a whisky kind of girl, so when the bartender asks what I would like, I tell him just to give me a double of whatever they have local, on the rocks.
After he hands me my drink, and I hand him my card, I take a sip. The whiskey goes down smooth, and I wonder which one it is.
“Excuse me?” I yell to the bartender before he walks away after dropping off my card and receipt. “Can you tell me who makes this?” I point to my glass.
“Bryson,” he shouts back.
Bryson? Where do I know that name from? I glance over at Lachlan, who is still in the same spot, still talking to the same woman, and it hits me. That’s his last name. Hmm. Could it be?
“Thank you.” I write down a tip, sign the paper, and take my drink back over to the table. Declan, Riley, and…what was her name? Oh! Venessa…are sitting at the table, but everyone else is on the dance floor. I decide I’m going to enjoy my drink and then head home—that way it won’t feel like Lachlan has chased me away, and I can call it a win.
“What are you drinking?” Declan asks when I sit across from him and Venessa and next to Riley.
“Whiskey.” I smile and take a sip. “Bryson Rye,” I add. Declan’s eyes widen, confirming my suspicions. Someone in Lachlan’s family owns a distillery. I want to ask him about it, but I would rather learn about Lachlan and his family from Lachlan himself.
“Quinn?” I recognize the voice without even having to look at him, and if I’m honest, I’m scared to look. If I see that girl attached to his side, I know it’s going to hurt like hell. Not that I didn’t see this coming from a mile away, but with all the convincing he’s been doing, I guess a part of me started to believe what he was selling. Stupid me.
“That’s me,” I say, taking another sip before turning to look at Lachlan. “In the flesh.” When our eyes meet, I see the girl he was talking to is standing next to him, shooting daggers my way.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, and the walls I’ve kept erected for the last several years, the same ones I now realize I’ve lowered to let Lachlan in, fly back up. This is exactly why I haven’t dated, why I’ve chosen to focus on raising my daughter. Because no matter how much I want to leave Rick in the past, he’s still very much in the present. Haunting and taunting me from the dead. Controlling my thoughts and actions and feelings.
“I…” I take a deep breath, reminding myself that Lachlan isn’t Rick, and I’m no longer in a position to allow any man to make me feel weak. I’m allowed to be here. I’m a grown woman, and this is a public place. Sure, I came here with the hope of seeing Lachlan, but my brother and Willow and Gage and Evan are also here. I don’t have to be here for him.
“Where’s Kinsley?” Lachlan asks before I can answer his first question.
“She’s at my brother’s for the night.” My eyes flicker from Lachlan to the woman standing by his side. Her hand brushes up against his arm, in an attempt to get his attention, and it makes me realize one thing: Despite every reason why I shouldn’t be, I’m already falling hard for him. The question is, will he really be there to catch me like he said he would be?
Thirteen
Lachlan
I can’t take my eyes off of Quinn. The few times I’ve seen her, she’s either been dressed professionally or dressed down—in sweats or jeans. She rocks both like a beautiful boss. But right now, even though she’s sitting at the table, I can tell she’s in a dress. One of her shoulders is exposed, showing the thin black lacy strap of her bra. I know it’s her bra because it’s the same one she was wearing last night. She’s also wearing makeup. Not that she needs it, but the bit of color around her eyes make them appear mysterious. And her hair…it’s no longer in her signature messy bun thing she’s always sporting. It’s down in waves. My gaze momentarily drops to her legs, which are half under the table, one crossed over the other. She’s wearing tall as fuck heels. Jesus, she’s fucking sexy.
When my eyes meet hers, I notice her pouty lips are glossy and…frowning. Why is she frowning? Just as I’m about to ask what’s wrong, a hand touches my forearm and it all clicks. Shea is here, and Quinn must’ve seen us. Fuck!
“Lachlan, are you going to introduce us?” Shea asks, and Quinn’s frown deepens.
“I was actually just leaving,” Quinn says, downing the last of whatever she’s drinking. “Have a good night.” When she stands, I’m able to see her entire body. Her black dress covers all the important parts, yet shows off every single gorgeous curve. The top half is loose, but the farther down you go, the tighter the dress gets. As she saunters past me, my gaze falls to her backside. The woman can definitely fill out a dress like no other.
“Lach!” Declan yells, snapping his fingers in front of my face, and snapping me out of my thoughts. “She just walked away.”
“Fuck!” I yell. I was so busy fantasizing about her, I blanked out. I start to chase after her when Shea grabs my arm and holds me back.
“You’re not seriously going after that woman are you?” Her face contorts into a look of disgust, and I can spot her jealousy from a mile away. She came to the states in hope of getting back together, and she was pissed to learn I’ve moved on. Even if I hadn’t met Quinn recently, I wouldn’t be willing to give Shea and me another chance, but knowing there is another woman, pisses her off.
“Hell yeah, I am,” I say, pulling my arm out of her grasp and running after Quinn. I’m searching everywhere for her, when I spot her talking to her brother and Willow at the bar. Jogging over, I stop in front of them. Quinn’s back is to me, so she doesn’t see me coming, but Jax and Willow do and both are glaring.
Not wanting to startle Quinn, I call out her name, and she turns around. “Can we talk, please?” I plead, but I can see it in her face, she’s not going to give me the time of day. If I want her to listen, I need to act quick and talk fast. “What you saw wasn’t what it looked like.” When she flinches at my words, I internally groan. I sound like every guy who’s ever been caught cheating, and Quinn has been cheated on. Damn it!
“That came out wrong.” I place my palms up in a placating manner. “That woman you saw is my ex, Shea.” Quinn’s eye widen slightly, but she does a good job at staying emotionless. “She showed up here without me knowing. Her best friend is Declan’s sister, my cousin, Riley. I was already here when they arrived, and she cornered me at the bar, asking to get back together. I told her no. I even told her about you.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” she says so softly I can barely hear her over the loud thumping of the dance music. “We aren’t together or even dating. Hell, I don’t even know what we are. You can talk to whoever you want.” She keeps her voice devoid of any emotion, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. I promised to never hurt her intentionally, and while this isn’t intentional, she’s still hurting because of me. Because of my drama. Drama she doesn’t need to deal with.
“I disagree,” I tell her. “Everything that happened with us last night and this morning means we are definitely something.” Her eyes flit from me to her brother. I forgot he and Willow were even standing there. My sole focus is fixing this shit with Quinn. I’m not about to lose her before I’ve even gotten her, and especially not over my fucking ex.
“We’ll let you two talk,” Willow says, pulling Jax away.
Stepping closer to Quinn, I say, “We might not have officially placed a label on us yet, but that doesn’t mean nothing is going on. I don’t just go around eating women out. I told Willow I’m your boyfriend because that’s what I want to be.” I take another step toward her and grip the curve of her hip. “You’re the only woman I’m talking to
.” I brush my lips across hers, tasting the fruit-flavored lip gloss she’s wearing. “You’re the only woman I’m kissing.” I lean into her and nip the bottom of her earlobe, eliciting a shiver out of her. I love the way she reacts to me. “You’re the only woman I want, Q.” She exhales deeply. “Don’t leave, please.” I bring my face back up to hers. “You’re standing here in this club, looking sexy as fuck in that black dress and those heels. Dance with me.”
She takes a long moment to answer, but just as I’m beginning to lose hope, she nods once. “Promise me one thing.”
“Anything.” And that’s the truth. I’ve only known this woman for a short time, but I would do anything for her.
“If you ever decide you don’t want me anymore, or you want someone else, please let me go.” She bites down on her bottom lip, and her eyes go glossy. She didn’t ask me not to cheat on her. She didn’t ask me to tell her if I do. She asked me to let her go. Because her fuck-nut of an ex strung her along while he cheated on her. She felt trapped when all she wanted was to be set free.
“It’s never going to happen—”
“Lachlan, please,” she cuts me off, begging, and fuck if I don’t want to slam my fist into something right now.
“But,” I say emphasizing the word to make it clear I wasn’t done, “if I ever do, I promise to let you go.” The words taste sour on my tongue, but I know she needs to hear them. And when her shoulders visibly sag in relief, it’s confirmed. “Now will you please dance with me?”
Her eyes dart behind me, and I look back to see what—or who—she’s looking at. I spot Shea standing by the table staring at us with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Ignore her. Come dance with me.” Taking her hand in mine, I guide her out of sight of the table and over to an empty-ish area. The club is crowded as hell. It’s a popular place, and it’s Saturday night, but here in the corner, it’s not as crowded.
Pulling her into my arms, I glide my hands down her curvy sides and land on her ass. Fuck, I love her ass. Quinn’s hands link together behind my neck as she begins to grind her front against mine. Needing to taste her again, I bring my mouth to hers, tasting the lip gloss again, but when my tongue delves between her parted lips, I can taste the whiskey on her breath, and I know it’s my family’s. It has a very distinct taste to it, and the thought that she was drinking my family’s whiskey has me wanting to take her right here and now. She moans softly into my mouth, finally kissing me back. My tongue sweeps past her teeth once again, finding hers. Tasting. Teasing. Our tongues find a rhythm as our kiss deepens.
Needing to be even closer to her, my thigh pushes her legs farther apart, and I run my knee along the apex of her thighs, against her heat. “Oh, God,” she groans into my mouth. I continue rubbing my knee forward and backward. Teasing. Tormenting.
“Lach,” she moans, and I know she’s coming. Her legs shake, and if I wasn’t holding her, she would probably collapse. Our kiss breaks, and her head lands on my shoulder, her teeth biting down gently as she comes undone right here on the dance floor. And fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“I’ve made you come twice now,” I whisper into her ear. “You’re most definitely mine.” She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her nod into my shoulder. “Let’s get you home.” Another nod.
After Quinn uses the restroom, we head back over to the table to let everyone know we’re leaving. I feel bad it’s Declan’s first night back and I’m bailing on him, but there’s no way I’m asking Quinn to hang out with Shea. But when Declan gives me a slight head nod, I know he gets it.
“I’ll see you back at home later,” I tell him.
“I’ll get Shea and Riley set up in a hotel,” he tells me.
“Thanks, man.”
I snag a cab, and even though Quinn insists she can get home on her own, I ride with her back to her place. When we arrive at her house, I ask the driver to wait a second, so I can get out and walk her to her door.
“Thank you for the dance,” I tell her with a grin that makes her laugh. Pushing her up against the door, I lean in and nip her bottom lip. She giggles, and her hands, which are as soft as her lips, touch my cheeks.
“Thank you for the dance,” she murmurs before deepening the kiss.
Wanting to be a gentleman, and still trying to take shit slow, I reluctantly pull back, breaking the kiss. “Call me.”
She nods in understanding. “Okay.”
Fourteen
Quinn
It’s Saturday night and Kinsley is in bed. She was feeling a bit under the weather and conked out early, giving me some time to finally work on my edits. This week has been literally one failure after the next. After the horrible-turned-amazing evening with Lachlan at the club, I met with Jenna Sunday morning. When we sat down and went over my finances, I learned that even with Rick’s money, I can’t afford a home where my siblings live. Well, I could, but it would mean having to use the money from my savings, and since I don’t make enough to afford the house with my income, I would eventually run out. I had no idea Cobble Hill was so expensive. In order to buy, or even rent, I’ll have to be willing to move to another area, and that will mean Kinsley switching schools. I thanked Jenna for taking the time to go over it all with me. I know a lot of realtors would just want the commission. I told her I would think about it, and she offered to send me over several listings that are in my price range.
The rest of the day was spent visiting several of those listings, to which Kinsley whined and cried that she loves her school and would die if she had to leave it. Yes, she actually said she would die. When we got home, she told Jax, who assured her she wouldn’t have to switch schools. Which caused Jax and me to get into our first fight ever when I told him he had no right to tell her that.
My week did get a bit better when Celeste called in need of a last minute photographer when hers canceled due to a family emergency. I spent the day with Celeste and Skyla—who co-owns Celeste’s company, Leblanc, Inc. It’s made up of several mini-companies which focus on clothing, makeup, and jewelry. I was thrilled to learn how much I would make from doing the shoot, and it made me see that I might need to branch out to more than just weddings and family shoots. While I love doing them, I need to think about providing for my daughter, and weddings and engagement shoots just don’t bring in enough. When I brought it up to Celeste, she told me she would hire me in a heartbeat, and that the only reason she never suggested it was because she didn’t think I wanted to go in that direction. She’s already scheduled me for several upcoming shoots.
Thursday took a nosedive when my daughter’s teacher called to let me know that Kinsley punched a boy in the stomach and would have to go home until Monday. I learned he’s been picking on her, and she had enough. I explained we don’t put our hands on anyone, and Kinsley said she understood. I also let her teacher know of the situation. When I told Kinsley there would be no electronics or soccer this weekend because of the choice she made, she cried and went straight to her room. Sometimes being a mom is hard.
Friday, I photographed a wedding, and Ember watched Kinsley. She’s a college student at NYU and has been babysitting Kinsley for the last couple years. And that leads me to tonight. I’m in my comfy cotton pajamas, exhausted as all hell, and determined to get these edits done, so I can look at some more of the listings Jenna sent over. When the doorbell rings, I set my laptop down and walk over to the front door to answer it, and standing there, looking sexy as all hell in his Forbidden Ink T-shirt and jeans, is Lachlan.
And no, he wasn’t mentioned in any of my recollection of the week. Why? Because when I texted him Sunday night, asking if he could talk, he texted me back: No. I was a bit thrown by his clipped response, but didn’t want to assume anything, so I texted him back: Later? And when he responded with another No, I took the hint.
I thought about asking him why, but I was too upset. And if I’m honest, I was afraid he would tell me it’s because of his ex, Shea. He had promis
ed to let me go if he decided to be with someone else, so maybe that was his way of doing so. On the other hand, he could’ve texted a bit more explanation. But if he doesn’t want to talk to me, then I’m not going to beg. I spent years begging Rick to love and want me, and the only thing it did was make me look pathetic and give him more power. So instead, I responded with two letters of my own: OK
“Hey,” he says, giving me a nervous half-smile.
“Hey,” I say back. “What’s up?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I open the door for him, even though I don’t want him here. He steps into the house and walks straight to the living room.
“Is Kinsley here?”
“She’s upstairs sleeping.”
“Okay, so, I just wanted to say…” He digs his hands into his pockets, and his arms stretch out, the muscles flexing. It reminds me of last Saturday, when we had finished eating and Kinsley asked if she could feed the ducks some bread. She said her feet hurt from playing soccer, so Lachlan picked her up and placed her on his shoulders. She giggled and kicked, and he carried her like she weighed nothing.
My gaze goes from his muscles to his eyes and see he’s staring at me with his brows raised. Shit! While I was drooling over his arm-porn, did I miss what he said to me?
“Can you…umm…” I clear my throat. “Can you repeat what you said?”
“I said, even though things didn’t work out with us, I want you to know I really did like you. I think you’re beautiful, and I hope, despite what we did last weekend, we can still be friends.”
“You could’ve just texted that,” I say, not understanding why he felt the need to come here. But maybe this is his way of letting me go. He still could’ve done it through text, though.
“I would’ve, if I had your number.” He gives me a confused look. “I asked Jase for it, but he told me if you wanted me to have it, you would’ve given it to me, so I figured I would just come over and say what I needed to say in person.”