Just Maybe (Home In You Book 3)

by Crystal Walton

  The calendar on the wall waved under the A/C like a shot clock. The days were moving the same direction his heart and focus needed to go. Forward. There was no point grounding roots he’d only have to pull up in a matter of days. He peered at a framed photo of Dad and him on his old skiff. “I’ll make things up to you, Dad. Promise.”

  Productivity swept the minutes by until a shriek from the living room propelled him out of his chair. He swung around the trim toward a hint of embarrassment tingeing Quinn’s forehead.

  She covered her face with her magazine. “Sorry.” Lowering it, she batted apologetic eyes at him. “Didn’t mean to distract you.”

  His gaze fell over Brayden, half asleep against a pile of blocks he’d stacked together. “Everything all right?”

  “No.” She dropped the magazine to her lap and smacked a finger to an ad. “Someone please tell me why anyone would name their coffee shop Xpresso Café? That’s only going to perpetuate the common mispronunciation. Do you know how annoying that is? It’s almost as bad as ex-cetera. Ugh, or real-a-tor.” She shuddered. “I better never hear you call Ray that.”

  He reined in a laugh, but the honest exasperation tinting her eyes pulled it right back out of him.

  She rolled up the magazine and chucked it at his stomach. “I’m serious.”

  “I see that.” He picked up the evidently disgraceful magazine and peeked into her empty coffee mug. “Maybe you should add a couple shots of Kahlúa to your coffee next time.”

  “Funny.” She fell backward on the couch. “I’m trying to write up something to say at the party. A tribute to the family, I guess.”

  “Like your old blogs.”

  “In ways, yeah.” She grabbed the scribbled-over notepad beside her. “But I keep hitting this wall. I just thought . . .” She smacked the page to her head and sighed. “I used to be so sure I was meant to be a writer. That I had something to say that’d matter, but lately . . . I don’t know. Maybe this is a stupid idea.”

  He pulled the paper away from her face. “Or maybe you just need a break.” He knew the weight of stress, the roadblocks it could create. Just like he knew the solution.

  Cooper helped her to her feet. He might be leaving in a couple of weeks, but he could at least leave her with something worthwhile.

  The notepad fell to the floor and sent her pen rolling under the coffee table. She resisted his pull. “Where are we going?”

  “To take a leap of faith.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Leap

  It was official. Cooper had lost his mind. Quinn obviously had too, or she wouldn’t be shimmying a life jacket over her head right now.

  From the dock, she peered at Ginny and Brayden sitting under the shade of a huge oak tree up shore and then back at Cooper. “How’d you even get my aunt’s number?”

  He stopped wiping down his WaveRunner and faced her, his blasted dimples already answering. “She gave it to me.”

  Of course she did. Quinn exaggerated an eye roll. “Just because most women are putty in your hands doesn’t mean I am.” Says the girl about to get on the back of a death machine with him. Stupid.

  He tossed the rag on the bench and sauntered close. Too close. With hazel eyes dismantling her resolve a layer at a time, he grazed a cool hand along her ear while pulling a string of moss from the trees out of her hair. “Then what are you doing here right now?”

  Trying to remember how to breathe? “I’m . . .”

  “Being a wuss,” Ginny shouted.

  Quinn whipped around. “Am not.” No, instead she was acting like a five-year-old. Nice. She turned toward Cooper’s simpering grin and swiped the keys from him. “A kayak’s too much work for you?”

  “Too slow.”

  Great. Quinn kept her fears from wrangling her play-it-cool expression.

  Obviously, not well enough.

  Cooper laughed. “Don’t worry.” He took the keys back and straddled the WaveRunner. “I’ll drive this first round. All you gotta do is hang on.”

  To his shirtless waist. Sure, no problem. Tempering her nerves, she reluctantly climbed on. But as soon as the runner rocked, she dug her fingers into his arms.

  He unclasped her death grip and wound her arms around his defined stomach. “Ready for some fun?”

  Ready or not.

  They took off, soaring across every rise and dip in the water. Wind coursed through her hair as cold mist sprayed her skin from all directions.

  He picked up speed, and Quinn buried her head in his back, her grip tightening with each squeal the race against the water elicited.

  Cooper finally slowed around the middle of the lake and looked behind him. “If you live with your eyes open, you might be surprised what you’ve been missing.”

  “I live with my eyes open plenty wide, thank you.” And saw the world exactly for what it was. She could thank her past for that. Not to mention this job debacle she’d gotten herself into. Thankfully, Cruella hadn’t fired Ava yet, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t coming. For all of them.

  She untangled her arms from Cooper’s waist. This whole thing was probably one giant mistake.

  “C’mon, QT. I’m not talking about skepticism. I’m talking about possibilities, adventure, taking chances.”

  She toyed with the clasps on her life jacket. “I’m not very good at that,” she mumbled.

  “You gotta start somewhere.” He rose to his feet, the WaveRunner swaying. “Don’t overthink it. Just leap.” With one flash of a smile over his shoulder, he dove into the lake.

  Quinn stretched to grasp the handle bars and waited for the runner to steady.

  A splash brought Cooper’s head popping to the surface. He pushed his wet hair off his face and beamed at her like he’d just made the sanest move possible.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “At least I’m having fun.” He jutted his chin at her. “What are you gonna do?”

  “Run you over?”

  His laughter gave way to a look in his eyes rivaling the lake’s expanse. “I’ll get you out here sometime.”

  “Time’s not exactly on your side, buddy.” She cocked her head, expecting a returned dig, but Cooper only exhaled.

  “I know,” he whispered. Before she could interpret his expression, he swam back over to the WaveRunner and climbed on behind her this time. “But I’m at least getting you in the driver’s seat.”

  Backed against his firm chest, Quinn breathed in. But when his cool fingers smoothed over hers along the handle bars, all breath disappeared with the wind that seemed to have gone on strike out of nowhere. So much for not being putty.

  “Just go easy at first.” He turned one bar slowly, his low voice in her ear.

  Easy. Sure. She swallowed and increased the gas a little at a time until they were flying across the lake top. The wind, the freedom, the adrenaline—it swept through her like a fire reigniting feelings she’d long ago written off. “We’re doing it.”

  Cooper’s husky laugh clung to her with the misty water. “You’re doing it, QT.” He released the bars, circled his arms around her waist, and kept his mouth beside her ear. “Just takes a little faith to let go.”

  Sunlight poured over her skin, his words over her heart. Her gaze gravitated to the white water churning beside the runner. If only taking leaps came with a guarantee you’d never drown.

  Cooper slid his hands over hers again. “But in case you still need a little help . . .”

  She knew that tone, knew it couldn’t be good. “Coop—”

  Speed stole her voice. One wave, one jump, and they spun through the air. Her heart didn’t find its way back to her chest until the runner hit the water again.

  Ginny cheered as they approached the dock. “That was awesome. Can I go next?”

  Brayden clapped. “’Gain. ’Gain.”

  Quinn eased off the WaveRunner like a city girl dismounting a horse. “You want to fly, huh, Dimpelstiltskin?” She took Brayden from Ginny and twirled him up in the air.


  His laughter sent her heart soaring almost as much as that ride had. “’Gain,” he repeated.

  She pinned him to her side. “Why don’t we leave the water tricks to Daddy.”

  “Dada.”

  Cooper came over with water still dripping from his hair down his body. He shook his head, dotting both of them in drops of water. Quinn shoved him away, while Brayden ate it up. “Boys,” she mumbled.

  Cooper took an incoming call on his return to the dock. “It’s not a good night, Ray. . . . Yeah, I know, time’s running out. . . . Look, I’m almost finished with the deck. Everything else is set.” He cut a glance at Quinn and rolled his eyes at his phone. “What’s that? Sorry, hoss, I’m losing you. Yeah, let me call you later.” Hanging up, he shook his head and then winked at her. “Real-a-tors.”

  She shoved him.

  All joking aside, she couldn’t help half pitying Ray for trying to work with such a confounding client. Cooper was quick to troubleshoot other people’s problems. But his own? Sometimes, he seemed bent on making things happen right away, like the powerhouse executive he was. Other times, it was like his laid-back, free-spirited side took over. No wonder Ava called him Mr. Elusive.

  He mussed Brayden’s hair and kissed the top of his head before helping Ginny onto the WaveRunner.

  “Be careful,” Quinn called.

  Not that Ginny was listening. Caught up on the Cooper dream boat, her cousin eagerly roped her arms around his waist, and all Quinn could do was laugh.

  “I don’t blame you, girl,” she said once they took off.

  Alone with Brayden, she moseyed to the shade and sat on the grass. Brayden held onto both her hands and bounced up and down, clearly ready to go for a few rides of his own.

  “You’re going to be an adventure junkie like your Dad, aren’t you, mister?”

  A devilish grin answered for him.

  “Oh, you think you’re cute. I see. Give me that chunkamunka leg.”

  As soon as she let go, he squirmed to crawl away. Like that was happening. She scooped him up and pretended to gobble up his thigh, releasing a round of giggles that were beginning to take up permanent residence in her heart.

  Quinn smoothed back his damp hair from his red cheeks. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna get you walking in no time.” Her earlier comment to Cooper about time being the enemy speared through her with the reality that she might never see Brayden walk. Even more gut-wrenching, Cooper might not either. Unless she hurried up and did something to change that.

  Another arrow trailed the first. Would telling Cooper the truth about why she was here ruin her chance to change his mind about his son?

  Brayden grabbed onto the front of her shirt, pulled himself up, and landed an almost-kiss smack to her chin. She took one look at the sweet hazel eyes beaming up at her, and she was head over heels lost.

  For the next twenty minutes, she failed miserably at reeling her heart away from the electric fence called hope that’d burned her too many times.

  But when the purr of the WaveRunner’s engine signaled its return, and Cooper’s smile came into view, she knew the chance to walk away unscathed had passed a long time ago.

  “That was the coolest.” Ginny adjusted her windblown ponytail. “Quinn, would you take a picture of us?”

  She rose, resituated Brayden, and snapped a photo of Ginny crowding Cooper at the dock like a groupie.

  Her cousin took her cell back and inspected the picture, face still glowing.

  Just as Quinn was turning, Ginny stopped her. “Now one of us.”

  Brayden almost slipped out of her arms. “You want a picture with me?” She must’ve swallowed too much water out there.

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  Alrighty then. Quinn passed off Brayden to Cooper and slid an arm around her cousin’s back. The camera snapped, and memories flashed of all the time they used to spend together. She couldn’t fault Ginny for being mad at her for leaving. She hadn’t even said goodbye.

  She blinked back a sudden rise of emotion and reached for Brayden again.

  “I got him.” Ginny intercepted him. When Quinn eyed her, she perched a hand on her free hip. “I’m not the same kid you left four years ago. I’m sixteen now. I know how to babysit.”

  Quinn lifted her palms. Hard to argue with that. Quinn used to babysit at only ten years old. Not to mention, she’d known Ginny all her life. Trusted her.

  Halfway up the slope to the back of the house, a squeal whirled her around. “Wait till my friend Bethany sees these pics. She’ll be so jealous.” Ginny disappeared up the steps to the deck in a bubble of adolescent excitement.

  “Forewarning, that picture might show up on your Facebook page,” Quinn said to Cooper.

  “Good thing I don’t do social media.”

  Seriously? “Even my mom does Facebook.”

  He shrugged. “I prefer to keep a low profile. It’s too easy for the media to invade your privacy. I’m not about to voluntarily give them something to distort and smear across the tabloids. I already have to field enough presumptions about my life.”

  His confession jabbed like an ice pick dead to her gut. Her stomach churned at the possibilities of what would happen when he found out she was part of the media he hated.

  “You’re lucky,” he said. “We haven’t had to dodge any reporters since you came, but I probably should’ve warned you to watch your back when we’re out in public.”

  She’d dig out the ice pick if she could. Instead, it only twisted deeper. “All the drama that went down with Shore Corp . . . You didn’t leave because of that, did you?”

  “There was obviously stuff going on while I was still there, but I didn’t know what. I left before any of it came out.” Cooper finished locking up his WaveRunner. “But as long as the media thinks there’s a story there . . .”

  “They’ll keep digging.” She clutched her elbows, even more so when a streak of weariness slipped through his usual carefree exterior.

  He cleared his throat and straightened. “It was cool of Ginny to take a picture with you.”

  Evidently, she wasn’t alone in wanting to shift the conversation.

  Quinn turned a skeptical stare on him. “Seems kind of odd to have a change of heart all of a sudden, don’t you think?”

  “She’s sixteen.” He scratched his jaw. “Do you really need another explanation?”

  “Mm-hmm.” More like he was at it again, trying to find solutions to all her problems.

  Cooper tugged a T-shirt over his sun-dried skin. “You know, after getting so close to my niece that year I lived with them, I was pretty nervous about how she’d respond when I moved away again.”

  “And?” Quinn sat on the bench and tucked her hands under her legs.

  “She extended the same grace she always does.” A wistful expression lifted his cheeks. “That doesn’t mean she hesitates to put me in my place when I need it, but I wouldn’t trade getting to keep that relationship for anything.”

  “Mm.” Quinn slid her toes in and out of her flip-flops. “I don’t suppose you mentioned any of that to Ginny while you had her out on the water.”

  He pulled on his ear, dodging her question. “Life’s too short to live with regrets.”

  His brow furrowed at the underlying meaning, and so did her heart. She’d lost her dad in ways, but not like he had.

  Cooper dusted off his hands. “So, you wanna tell me what’s up with your fear of the water? I thought you grew up on this lake. Something happen?”

  “Billy Finley. That’s what happened.”

  Amusement coalesced with the intrigue in his eyes.

  “Summer of sixth grade, this annoying boy in my class told me all these stories about the Loch Ness Monster.”

  Quinn threatened to swat Cooper with her flip-flop when he snickered. “Hey, you try not freaking out as a little girl when something swims up against your legs after you just heard a horror story. I was scarred for life.” The silly memory settled acr
oss her face in a smile but evaporated a minute later.

  She moved to the edge of the dock and wrapped a hand around the light post. “A few years later, a kid here on vacation drowned. I never went in again after that.”

  “I’m sorry.” A consoling hand caressed the top of her shoulder.

  Despite knowing she shouldn’t, Quinn gently leaned into Cooper’s secure body behind her.

  “You know, one person’s fate doesn’t determine another’s.”

  She turned and looked up at him. “But one person can change another’s.”

  Cooper held her gaze with such intensity, her heart rate pulsed in her ears. She breathed in, held it. Too afraid to release it or the moment, but equally as afraid to press in.

  He diverted his focus to the dock, then sat on the edge with his legs dangling above the water.

  After stealing a moment to regroup, Quinn joined him. “Tell me about her.”

  “Who?” He picked up three acorns on the board beside him.

  “Brayden’s mom.”

  His body stiffened. “Not much to tell.” He chucked one of the acorns across the water. “I was in Ocracoke helping my brother. Megan was there for a summer escape. We hit it off, had the kind of summer you’d read in one of your books, and then she left.”

  “You never saw her again?”

  “Once,” he said slowly.

  Quinn ran her fingers along the grooves in the wood. “Did you love her?”

  “I thought I did. Turns out it was just a fling.” He spun the two acorns ’round and ’round in his hand. “Hard to blame her. People vacation in Ocracoke to get away from everyday life, not to get tied down to more obligations holding them back.”

  “Back from what?”

  “Living unattached.”

  “Unattached.” Her muscles tensed. “You mean, to a son?”

  “You’re the one who said the more someone loves you, the more you can disappoint them, remember? The one who left to avoid hurting her family.”

  But what happened when cutting yourself off from everyone turned out to bring nothing but emptiness?

  “Why do you think Megan kept him from me, Quinn? She knew I’d let him down as much as I know it.”