by Laura Ann
“I’m just a woman who loves kids and teaching.” She shrugged. “I’m pretty boring, actually,” she gave a light laugh as she mumbled to herself. “But Quentin...” She sighed. “Quentin is handsome, kind and generous. The perfect Prince Charming. Although, sometimes he’s a bit too formal.” She thought of how his smile seemed to break through his stoic facade and she made the goal to make him smile at least once during their evening together.
BRRRRIINNNGGG!!!
Snow squealed when her doorbell rang. Putting her hand to her chest, she attempted to slow her runaway heart.
Her hand was slick as she grasped the doorknob and she fumbled momentarily, but when she finally got it open, it was well worth the wait.
Quentin stood smiling in the doorway, holding a bouquet of red roses. “Hello, Snow,” he rumbled.
Good grief. He’s perfect. “Hello, Quentin,” she managed to choke out.
He held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
Snow smiled and took the bouquet, leaning in to get a good smell. “Mmmm, they are wonderful. Please come in, I’ll put them in water.” She stepped back and held in a giggle as Quentin had to duck to enter her small apartment.
She walked toward the kitchen where she grabbed the closest vase and filled it with water. After putting the flower in, she turned to Quentin who was watching her intently. His gaze made warmth creep up her neck and cheeks, so she ducked her head and tried to hide behind her hair.
“I love roses, red in particular. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”
Quentin stepped in close and used a knuckle to lift her face up toward his. “I was going to say they reminded me of your lipstick the other night, but now that I’m standing here, I think your lips are just naturally red.”
Instinctively, Snow bit her lips between her teeth.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Quentin pulled out her bottom lip. “They’re perfect.”
Is he going to kiss me? I hardly know him. Oh heavens, I still want him to! Snow fought an inner battle and it must have shown in her eyes because Quentin dropped his hand and stepped back, clearing his throat.
He waved an arm toward the door. “Ready?”
Snow smiled to cover the disappointment that rang through her. “Yes. Let me grab my coat.”
After she lifted her coat from the rack, Quentin took it from her fingers and helped her put it on. Geez. Who says chivalry is dead? I’ve never seen a man who attentive.
They stepped into the cold and she locked the door behind her. As they walked past her neighbor’s windows, the curtains were flung open and several sets of curious eyes and fingers landed on the glass.
“Hi, Ms. White!”
“Who’s that guy?”
“Ms. Snow has a boyfriend!”
“Whoa, he’s big! Does he work out?”
Snow fought the desire to put her palm to her forehead and groan. They’re just children, Snow. They don’t know any better.
A rumbling chuckle came from her right and her head darted to follow the glorious
sound. “I think they’re talking to you, Ms. Snow.”
Snow giggled nervously. “Yes. These are my neighbors. Would you like to meet them?” She bit her lip, immediately regretted asking the question. Why in the world would he want to meet your neighbors?
Quentin stopped and turned toward her. “Sure, why not?”
Snow beamed at him. Taking his hand, she did her best to ignore the tingle that shot up her arm and led him to the door and before she could knock, she heard scrambling and banging as the kids tried to get to the doorknob first.
Six sets of wide eyes watched them from the doorway. Several mouths were hanging open and one child gave a low whistle. “Holy cow, you’re even bigger up close,” Pete said in admiration.
“Yep,” Repeat said.
“Hello, everyone. I’d like you to meet Mr. Quentin Gruffman. He and I are going to dinner tonight,” Snow said brightly. “Mr. Gruffman,” she turned to look at him. “These are my neighbors.” She smiled back at the children. “These two troublemakers,” she pointed to the twins, “are Lucas and Liam. But we just call them Pete and Repeat.”
Lucas folded his arms over his chest and pumped his eyebrows. Snow held back a giggle and noticed Quentin doing his best not to laugh at the eight-year-old’s antic.
“This is Gwendolyn,” Snow indicated a ten-year-old in glasses with a large book held against her chest. “We all call her Doc because she is going to be a doctor someday.” There was pride in Snow’s voice as she spoke. “The one who is napping against the wall is Brandon.”
“Let me guess,” Quentin’s large voice boomed. “You call him Napper.”
“Nah,” Lucas smirked. “He’s Sleepy.”
“Because he’s always sleeping,” Liam explained.
Quentin made an ‘O’ with his mouth and nodded sagely.
“This handsome gentleman is Caden,” Snow didn’t miss the blush that crossed Caden’s cheeks as she pointed him out, but it didn’t wipe the scowl from his face.
Standing multiple inches below Mr. Gruffman’s height, Caden eyed the large man warily. “You taking her out?” Caden tilted his head toward Snow.
Quentin raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” he responded.
“You going to treat her right?”
“Caden!” Snow said in shock.
Quentin put out his hand and Caden gripped it, holding on a little too long.
Good grief, I think he’s trying to out squeeze Quentin.
“I promise to take good care of her,” Quentin said. After they had dropped hands, Quentin asked, “What do they call you?”
Rolling his eyes, Caden walked away.
“Don't mind him, we call him Grumpy for a reason,” a sweet voice said.
Snow beamed at the lovely, young woman. “And this is the beautiful Stephanie,” Snow waved her hand at the teenager.
Quentin took her hand and kissed the back of it.
Giggles erupted from the girl and she began twirling a piece of hair with her finger.
“Nice to meet you,” Quentin said.
“Yeah, you too,” Stephanie’s eyes were wide and adoring as she gazed at the handsome man in front of her.
Snow bit her lip to hold in a laugh at the obvious infatuation.
“Why is the door open? What’s going on over here?” A harried woman bustled into the group of kids with a toddler on her hip, causing the kids to scatter. “Oh, Snow. It’s you.” Her eyes widened and her head tilted back as she took a good look at Snow’s companion. “Good grief you brought a giant with you. What did the kids do this time?”
Snow could hold it no more and barked out a laugh. “Marge, I’d like you to meet Mr. Gruffman. Mr. Gruffman, this is, Marge Meadows. The mother of that crew you just met.”
“Nice to meet you,” Quentin nodded.
“You too. Whew. You are a big one, aren’t you?” Marge shifted the boy on her hip who was reaching for Snow. “Ah, you better get going before Messy, here, gets a hold of you in your nice clothes or Princess swoons at his feet.” She grabbed the door. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Gruffman.” She winked at Snow. “Have fun with that one, hon.”
The door closed and Snow turned slightly to look at Quentin.
“Welcome to my neighborhood,” she said with an overly sugary smile.
Quentin chuckled, grabbed Snow’s hand and led her the rest of the way to his car. “Hurry, before Grumpy decides to come back and threaten me some more.”
Snow laughed and slid into the rich, leather seats of his vehicle.
CHAPTER 5
After they got inside Quentin’s mansion, he took Snow’s coat from her and leaned toward her ear. “I didn’t say so before, but you look lovely tonight.”
Snow withheld a shiver at his warm breath on her ear and grinned over her shoulder. “Such flattery is going to go to my head, Mr. Gruffman.”
Quentin raised an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed you would call me Quentin.”
; Snow shrugged. “We also agreed you would call me Snow, but you keep adding a Miss in front. If you’re going to be formal, so am I.”
Quentin snorted, then caught himself. “Are you hungry, Snow?”
Snow smiled. “Why, yes I am, Quentin.”
He chuckled. “As much as I would like to say I cooked for you tonight, it would be a lie. My housekeeper, Mrs. Peabody, is an excellent cook, and she took care of our meal.”
Snow leaned her head away as they walked and narrowed her eyes at him. “I would have been shocked if you had told me you cooked. It doesn’t fit.”
A small smile played on Quentin’s lips. “Really? And what does fit?” He pulled out her seat.
“Thank you,” Snow murmured. Now you’re in for it. Why in the world did you open your big mouth?
After sitting down himself, Quentin raised his brows in anticipation.
Snow scrunched her face. “Any chance you can forget I said that last bit and change the subject?”
“Nope. I’m afraid not.” Amusement twinkled in Quentin’s dark eyes.
Snow sighed. “Fine. Personally, I think you’re a big teddy bear.”
Quentin choked on the water he was drinking. After a couple of coughs to regain his ability to breathe, he said, “Excuse me?”
Snow giggled. “You’re a teddy bear. You have this big, bad guy persona. I’ll bet it works wonders in your business because you’re very good at it. Quite intimidating, actually.” She took a sip of her own water.
“I can tell. You look absolutely terrified.”
Snow giggled and set her glass back down, then leaned over the table with her hands for support. “See, here’s the thing. Underneath that stoic demeanor, is a heart of gold. You’re a big softie, you just hide it well.”
Quentin tilted his head, narrowed his eyes and leaned in to meet her. “I’ve been known to make grown men cry, so how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”
“You forget, I saw you with Jett.”
“Ah, the miscreant I captured and threatened?”
“No. The young boy you fed and helped.”
Quentin felt his cheeks warm, and he sat back from their intimate moment, fiddling with his napkin “Sometimes we need a break. I was able to give it.”
“And there is your proof.”
A door cracked open, saving Quentin from having to respond and Snow watched as a short, round woman bustled in with a dinner tray.
“Snow, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Peabody. Mrs. Peabody, this is Snow.”
The older woman smiled. “How do you do Ms. Snow?”
“Oh, just Snow please.”
Mrs. Peabody’s eyebrows rose. “That’s an interesting name. Can I ask where it came from?”
Snow felt her cheeks flush scarlet, but it was Quentin’s chuckle that caught everyone’s attention.
“Her friends nicknamed her that for her fair skin,” Quentin replied softly.
“Ah. Well, that makes sense I suppose.” Mrs. Peabody began putting plates in front of Snow and Quentin. “And how are you enjoying your date tonight? Did you two meet just recently?”
“Oh no, we met last year at Brody’s wedding,” Snow said with a smile. “I worked with Tia at Middleton Prep. I’m a second-grade teacher.”
Mrs. Peabody froze for a moment then smiled and continued her work. “Oh. And you’re just now going out for the first time?”
Quentin cleared his throat. “No actually, this is the woman I took to The White Wall last week if you recall.”
“But, didn't...?” Mrs. Peabody looked confused for a moment, then shook her head and laughed lightly. “I guess my memory isn’t quite what it used to be.” She stepped towards Quentin and patted him on the cheek. “Have a wonderful dinner.” Turning, she nodded toward Snow. “Enjoy. And it was good to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Snow responded with a smile.
QUENTIN WATCHED MRS. Peabody leave, then turned to Snow with a grin. “I think she liked you.”
“And is that important to you?” Snow asked as she leaned over her plate and took a deep sniff. “Oooh... this smells wonderful.”
Quentin shrugged. “I suppose. She took care of us boys after our parents passed, so other than my brothers, she’s the closest thing I have to family.”
Snow stopped mid-bite. “I’m sorry about your parents. That had to be difficult.”
The sincerity of her tone pricked Quentin’s heart. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. He cleared his throat. “What about your family?”
Snow raised her brows. “What about them?”
Quentin sat up. Obviously, that was the wrong thing to ask.
Snow hung her head. “Sorry. That came out snippier than I meant it to. I have a father and a step-mother, but I’m not close to either of them.”
“I see.” Quentin studied the lovely woman across from him. She’s one of the kindest people I know. There has to be a story there.
Snow sighed. “It’s not a fun story, but if you really want to hear it, I’ll tell you.”
“I can’t say my curiosity isn’t peaked,” Quentin admitted with a small grin.
“Mine would be too if I was in your shoes.” Snow wiped her mouth with her napkin and set it back in her lap. “Long story, short, I was born from my father’s first wife. My mother passed away when I was pretty young, like ten I think. My father remarried when I was a teenager. Wife number two didn’t like having me around, said I kept my father from moving on and really loving her because I reminded him of his first wife.”
Quentin fisted his hands and had to squeeze hard to keep himself from growling. Who the heck would say that to a kid? Unbelievable.
“I tried to make it work, I really did. But the day after I graduated, my father came and told me it was time I left. Said he was ready to move on and that this was the only way. So I packed my bags and took off.”
“Do you ever hear from them?” Quentin’s tone was low and controlled.
Snow shrugged. “I’ve tried sending a few Christmas cards or texts. When the last card I mailed was returned, I took the hint.”
Quentin reached his large hand across the table and put it over Snow’s delicate one. “I’m sorry. No one deserves to be treated like that.”
Snow smiled and turned her hand over so she could grip his. “I’m fine. I learned long ago that family is what you make it. I have a job I love and neighbor kids to dote on. Life is pretty darn good.”
Quentin lifted her hand and interlaced their fingers. “And what about someone to take care of you?”
Snow’s voice was soft and quiet. “I can take care of myself.”
Quentin nodded seriously. The tone of the room was suddenly so charged with energy it felt as if they could be struck by lightning at any moment. “I know you can. You’ve already proven that. But what if someone wanted to?”
“I guess it would depend on who.” Her warm, brown eyes searched his, looking for answers he didn’t quite know himself.
“What if it was someone like myself?” His voice had dropped and was huskier than normal, and Quentin prayed it wouldn’t frighten her off.
Snow shook her head lightly. “Someone like you isn’t what I’m looking for.”
Quentin stiffened and his heart fell to his stomach. He began to pull his hand away, but she held tight.
“I’m not interested in a copycat, but I’d be willing to get to know the real thing.”
Quentin’s eyes shot to hers and breath came back into his lungs. She feels it too. Whatever is pulling us together isn’t one-sided. He felt a wide smile pull at his mouth and decided not to fight it. Time stood still as they simply smiled and held hands across the table.
“Everything all right in here?” Mrs. Peabody stuck her head through the door, breaking the intimate moment.
Quentin reluctantly pulled his hand back to his side of the table. “Everything is fine, thank you, Mrs. Peabody. I think we’ll be ready for dessert soon.”
“Of course,” her voice
faded as she let the door close.
Snow and Quentin went back to eating their dinners. The silence in the room was
charged with electricity from their earlier confession. Every time their eyes met, Quentin had to fight the urge to let a silly grin overtake his face. What is it about this woman that gets me so deeply? I realize she’s beautiful, but many of the women I spend time with are beautiful. She just seems to have so much more to her.
An hour later, Quentin was helping Snow from his car and walking her to her doorstep. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”
Snow beamed up at him. “So did I. Thank you.”
Quentin stepped into Snow’s space before he could think better of it. Her deep, brown eyes seemed to grant him permission for the unspoken question on his lips. But what about your curse? Are you trying to scare her off? His mind screamed at him. Blinking rapidly, Quentin shifted back slightly. Instead of kissing the ruby, red lips he wanted, he picked up her hand and kissed Snow’s knuckles.
Disappointment shot through Snow’s eyes but she tried to cover it with a forced smile. “I better get inside before I freeze.”
Quentin nodded. “Probably for the best.” Because if we stand here any longer, I’ll give in and kiss you the way I want to, curse or not.
Once Snow was safely tucked inside, Quentin took himself back to his car, cursing and fighting with himself the whole way. With a growl, he pulled Finley up on his speaker.
“Did you kiss her?”
“Hello to you too, brother,” Quentin said sarcastically as he navigated the road home.
“Yeah, yeah. I want to know if you stepped up to the plate. Every time you talk about this woman your eyes glaze over, which is disgusting by the way,” Finley scoffed.
Quentin rolled his eyes and grunted.
“But I also know you don’t get excited about a woman very often. So again, I ask, did you kiss her?”