by Harper Sloan
"Fuck!" he bellows, slapping his palm against the wheel.
"Tate?" I try again, feeling my throat get heavy with emotion, making my voice sound weak.
"I swear to fuckin' God, Quinn, I don't know what he's talkin' about. There isn't anyone else, goddammit!" He ends this declaration with a roar so loud my ears ring.
I swallow thickly, my eyes stuck on the man I love with all my heart. All logic is gone when it comes to my feelings for him. This scared me nine years ago when I was too young to realize just how powerful things were between us, but now that I know what it feels like to lose him, that fear is multiplied tenfold.
I gave him my heart again. I took the promise of his affection because I know he meant it. The man next to me now is lost in the madness of his anger, but it isn't the fear of a cheating man caught in the act that I see. When his eyes flash on mine, anger and just as much fear as I'm feeling burning bright in them, I know he wouldn't have come back if there was even a chance that what we have could be snatched away from us.
He fought for us when that wasn't even something he had anymore. Sure, he might have lived his life during that time, but he did it with half a heart--just like I did--because we each held the missing part of the other's. He fought for my family. He fought for his grandparents. All the man I love has done for nine long and lonely years is fight for something he didn't know if he would ever have back. No one does that, endures that kind of debilitating pain, without meaning it. No man strives so hard to obtain a second chance at something without being sure that's what he wants.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
A sense of calm that I can't believe I'm feeling envelops me, giving me the strength I need. The strength he can't find through his raw anger. All the weapons I need to mentally take onto a battlefield to fight for him.
To fight for him.
To fight for us.
To protect him with my love and unwavering support.
To win.
"Whatever it is, we handle it together, Tate. I won't lie and tell you that what he said doesn't freak me out, but I'm here, and you're not fightin' for us alone anymore."
"Fuckin' Christ," he hisses, closing his eyes as my words take root. His chest is still heaving when he opens them again, but I feel better seeing some of his anger dissipate. "There's no one else, Quinn. You have to believe me."
I smile, trying to give him courage even where I feel none. "I know, Tate. One step at a time. Just start drivin'."
I wish I could say more, but right now I have so much swirling in my mind that I don't know what to say to make him understand my thoughts. I know what he's saying is true. I honestly do, but I also know that there were a lot of years when we weren't together and we've both admitted that we didn't spend all that time alone. I can't fault him for what he did while we were apart, because I know how overwhelming the loneliness got.
Had I not just spent the past two days banishing fears that I held onto for so long, I might have looked at this moment and run far away, but I'm not that person anymore. I'm stronger, and I've gained that strength because of the man behind the wheel now. With every turn of the tires, I feel his uncertain fear growing. He looks over every half mile or so, begging me without words not to run.
He's been working to win me back for over two months. He's spent every second leading up to his return to Pine Oak gearing himself up to give us both back what we've been missing--not stopping once. He's been open, honest, and truthful since day one. He's not had a single moment of having someone else lessen his burdens in years, not had someone willing to take on the world for those that he loves, and it kills me to see the panic in his eyes that all that work has been for nothing.
I might not know what's going on with this unknown woman, but I know the man I love, and it's time I show him that he's not the only one willing to fight the hounds of hell to win the life he wants.
Not when he's got a hell-raising badass on his side.
29
TATE
"For Her" by Chris Lane
- -
I look over at Quinn, feeling like my chest is about to split open. My fingers ache with the harsh grip I have on the steering wheel, fear like I've never known eating at me. I knew something was coming, felt it deep inside me earlier, but I didn't expect this.
Everything is out of my control now. I've done all I can to prove to Quinn that I want her--I need her--but if she still holds just a sliver of doubt, this could rip her away forever. I won't survive losing her. I can't go through another hour, let alone more years, without feeling the power of her love. I tighten my grip, my knuckles screaming in protest. I won't let this be it. I can't.
"Tate," she says and I almost don't hear her over the roar of my frantic heartbeat rushing through my body. I glance over at the same second I see my mailbox come into view. "I love you and I trust you."
Her words make the breath shudder in my lungs.
"It's time you let someone else fight for us, honey."
She speaks at the same time we turn into my driveway. I park next to an unfamiliar sedan waiting there and look out my window toward the house when I see the car is empty. I might not recognize that car, but I can't say the same of the woman sitting on my porch. What are the odds that in the hour we've been gone that she would show up? I guess it's a blessing and a curse that I've had time to prepare us both for this shit.
"You've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me." I see her stand, adjusting her sunglasses. "You have got to be fuckin' jokin'!" I shout. I know she can't see into my truck because of the dark-tinted windows, but that doesn't stop her from smiling and waving at me like some fucking beauty queen.
"I take it you know her?" Quinn asks in a venomous tone. I crank my head to look at her, expecting that anger to be directed toward me, but she's not even paying me a lick of attention. She's staring straight at the porch, shooting daggers with her eyes at the very unwelcome visitor.
I look back over to see Ella's frantically happy waves start to slow down when I don't open my truck door immediately, but she still stands there smiling. I shake my head, hating that I have to even explain her to Quinn.
"I knew the moment that I would be reminded of the time we lost would come eventually," Quinn continues in the face of my silence. "I figured it would have been you runnin' into someone I . . . spent time with, though, and not the other way around. Didn't expect it to be your old girlfriend I would run into seein' as you were in Georgia and not here. Here, I would understand. It's not easy to escape the things that happened in the town you live in. That bein' said, I understand you had a life without me, Tate, and like I've been sayin', I'm not gonna hold that against you. You didn't make it across that battlefield you were fightin' on only to step on a land mine now. Just tell me and I swear it's the only time I'll need to ask." She pauses and holds my gaze. Something in her eyes makes me sit a little straighter and the fear dim. "That woman there isn't someone you'd want here even if we hadn't gotten back together, right?"
"Fuck no," I spit out without even a millisecond of thought.
"Does she know that?"
"Quinn, the first day I heard your voice through the phone almost three months ago was the same day I had a conversation that needed to be had with that woman. She was a coworker at the hospital I worked at who, yes, I unfortunately crossed the line with almost a year ago, but it had ended long before that talk and she knew it. I only wanted to attempt to make the last month I worked with her go smoother and even told her about the woman I was hoping to win back when I finally went home to Texas. Trust me when I tell you she didn't have a single doubt as to where I stood."
Quinn flinches when I mention crossing the line with Ella, but other than that, she doesn't give me a clue as to what she's thinking.
"And now?"
"I had her number blocked through my carrier almost two months ago, the same day you showed up at my office pissed as hell at me after wakin' up in my bed hungover. I did that because she wouldn
't stop harassin' me, Quinn. But I did it well before you finally gave me back your love."
She nods and looks away from me to narrow her eyes at Ella again. I don't look away, my concern only being for Quinn. Because of that, I'm rewarded with one hell of a sight. She shakes her arms out and rolls her head, the braid in her hair moving like a wild rope being shaken from one end. When she looks back at me, there isn't anything reflecting on her face at me except the devious expression she normally only gets when she and Leigh are plotting something together, the two little devils. One corner of her full lips is tipped up, and even in the middle of some serious fucked-up shit, she looks happy as fucking hell.
"You're gonna let me lead, Tate. Wanna know why?"
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak without swallowing my tongue. Fucking hell, I shouldn't be this turned on after feeling like I was about to have a panic-driven heart attack just a few minutes ago, but the sight of the confident woman I love overcoming the fear I saw in her eyes during my father's call is inspiring. The woman before me giving testament to just how far Quinn has come in overcoming what had gripped her tight for so long.
"You're gonna let me lead because your woman is a hell-raisin' badass, and no one messes with her man."
"Goddamn," I breathe, my heartbeat not roaring in my ears anymore--nope, it's rushed south now.
"Give me a kiss, Starch, and sit back and enjoy. You might not be able to hit a woman, but I can."
Then, without waiting for me to actually give her the kiss she demanded, she leans over the console and gives me a hell of a smooch, one that sets my already painfully hard cock throbbing.
When I open my eyes, I see her door open and just her long braid licking up in the air as she jumps from the truck. "Shit," I hiss, unsnapping my seat belt and rushing to get down from the truck myself.
"Who the hell are you?" I hear her yell at Ella.
Ella actually has the decency to look alarmed. Whatever fucked-up thought convinced her coming here would be a good idea isn't looking so good now, I'm guessing.
"Uh," she starts before clearing her throat, "I'm his girlfriend, and who might you be?"
Quinn throws her head back and laughs. A breeze picking up around us makes the material of her sleeveless top dance around her tiny frame. It's nothing fancy, just some sheer blue material that's about as dressy as it gets for a normal day with Quinn. Her boots are dirty and scuffed from long wear. The frayed edges of her shorts stand out against her tan skin. Right now, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
"Oh, bless your heart," Quinn says sweetly. She turns back toward the truck and calls out to me. "Tate, honey, did you forget somethin' back in Georgia?"
I cough to cover up my laugh, walking the rest of the way from my truck to the bottom of the porch steps where Quinn is standing and placing my arm over her shoulder. She wraps her body around mine instantly, one arm around my back and the other around my gut, her front pressed tight to my side as she looks up at me. I shake my head just enough, loving this woman even more than I thought possible.
"Got everything I ever wanted right here, darlin'. Nothin' forgotten now that I got this back."
"You hear that?" Quinn calls, smiling brightly up at me.
"I'm sorry, who are you?" Ella asks snottily, apparently unwilling to admit defeat.
Quinn's eyes sparkle, fucking twinkle like a goddamn kaleidoscope. I soak that shit up before she looks away, stepping out from my body and on to the bottom step. Never in the sixteen years that I've known her have I seen something so beautifully confident and strong in her eyes.
Until today.
When she learned how to fight.
"Well, honey, don't you know? I'm his future wife. Reckon you didn't count on that when your ass went off the rails on the crazy train to try and get a man that doesn't want you." I can't see Quinn's expression, but judging by the way Ella blanches, there's something powerful there. "Now, I won't hold it against you and all, especially since I know just how magical he can be, if you know what I mean. We had a little gap in our relationship that was unfortunately unpreventable, but just because I know how addictive he is doesn't mean you get to keep on tryin' to get a taste. Sweetheart, he's off the market and he will never be back on it. You got me?"
Ella's eyes narrow, and that mask of beauty she wears slips, the sneer on her face transforming her into something troll-like. "His future wife?" She throws her head back and laughs. "You expect me to believe that after he's only been here for seven weeks?"
"Actually, he's been here for almost eight, but who's counting?"
"Fine, two months. In two months, he's gone from the playboy who's allergic to relationships to engaged?"
Quinn snorts. "Him? Allergic to relationships?" She looks over her shoulder at me, that scheming glint still shining in her eyes. "Honey, the only thing this man is allergic to is peanuts, bees, and dirty psycho skanks who don't know how to take a hint."
"What did you just say?"
Quinn straightens, appearing taller than she really is, with her boots braced apart and her hands on her hips. "You heard me. Let me be clear so that maybe, God willin', you get this through your head. Tate Montgomery is my man. He was my man when he stomped down Main Street at eleven convinced there wasn't a damn thing to do in this town. When he was fifteen and gave me my first kiss in the middle of a rainstorm on the edge of the lake with some worms between us, there was no doubt. When I gave him me and he gave me him at eighteen, the same held true. Might have lost some time with him, but that is one truth that never wavered. He wasn't allergic to relationships; he was allergic to givin' up hope that he wouldn't get the woman that held his damn heart back. And sweetheart, that woman is me. So with that said, you wanna rethink what you claim is the reason behind this ridiculous visit?"
Unable to stand there anymore, I stomp the three feet keeping me from Quinn, grab her hand, and spin her around. I don't give a single thought to Ella standing there as I lower my head and give Quinn a deep, hungry kiss. It's short but sweet, and when I pull back with a single lick against her lips, I feel the last of the fear my father's call instilled in me vanish.
I look up at Ella, my eyes hardening, at the same time I whisper in Quinn's ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard when she gets off my fuckin' property."
She shivers in my hold and then addresses herself to Ella. "You've got two seconds to get your ass outta here before I show you just how friendly us Texans can get with a shotgun. Shoot-first state, honey."
I see Ella jump in her high-ass heels before tottering down the porch steps. She almost breaks her neck trying to avoid getting near Quinn. The next thing I hear is the door of her sedan slamming and the heavy acceleration as she spins tires out of here. Who knows what absurd notion brought that woman to Pine Oak, but I have no doubt that Quinn's show just now will ensure her never returning.
Quinn shades her eyes with her hand as she watches Ella's car disappear in the distance, then turns toward me. "Jesus Jones, Tate. You sure know how to pick 'em. She wasn't even very pretty when her face went all Bride of Chucky, Tate," she says with a laugh.
"Goddamn, I love you."
She loops her hands over my neck and leans into my body. "I love you too."
"I'm sorry for that," I whisper against her lips.
Quinn shakes her head. "You didn't make her come here, Tate. I meant what I said--you're not the only one fighting for us now."
I close my eyes and lean my forehead against hers. "I haven't felt fear that great in my life, Quinn. Not even when I realized what my father had against us did I feel it. Not when the years kept passing that kept us apart. When I heard him earlier, the only thing I felt was a desperation that I might lose you because of this bullshit. I can't live without you, Quinn. I knew that before now, but fuck, darlin', if the last half hour didn't just stab me deep when I felt that panic drowning me."
I finally open my eyes when I finish talking, swallowing thickly when I see how much love is written
within her emerald irises, shining bright as hell like gemstones.
"Been workin' toward this moment for weeks now, Tate. You came back when I never thought I would see you again. You mended what was broken when you left, then healed the pain that was there long before we had even met. You are the reason that I've found myself whole after a lifetime of knowin' somethin' was missin'. You will never know a day without me showin' you just how thankful I am to have you back in my life, Tate. That bein' said, if another tramp from Georgia shows up, I'm gonna make sure I bring up that shotgun first."
"Noted," I say with a smile, feeling my throat get thick from her words.
"It's our time now, Tate," she whispers, her eyes watering and one tear falling. I reach up and wipe it off and smile even though I feel my own eyes getting misty. "And anyone dumb enough to try and stand in our way can just kiss my damn boots."
Epilogue
QUINN
"Huntin', Fishin' and Lovin' Every Day" by Luke Bryan
- -
"Why do you look like that?"
I look up, blow some of my hair out of my eyes, and huff at Leigh. It's chillier than normal out today, but even if it was summer still and not winter, I would be freezing my ass off. I've been like this the past few weeks, and nothing aside from using Tate's body as a human heating pad seems to help.
I've been clicking my teeth together with my shivers for the past hour while Leigh and I move the rest of my stuff out of my childhood home and over to Tate's. Lord knows how we made it the past six months without moving in together officially. There wasn't a night we spent apart but it wasn't until he finally sat down with Clay and asked for my hand in marriage that we decided to stop putting it off. Thank God, because I was sick of running out of things at one or the other house. My belongings had been basically split into two groups with some there and some here, the things I needed never in the right place at the right time.
"Look like what?" I ask, pulling my sweater tighter around my body and straightening the pile of shirts I had ready to cart down to my truck.
"Like you're starving but also might hurl. Kinda like that time that you wanted to ride that big roller coaster even though you know you get that weird motion-sickness thing when you ride them."