“I don’t think your sister loves having me here,” he said, anxious to change the subject.
“She’s just stressed out,” Quinn said.
“I actually thought you’d be the one who would be mad at me.”
She took a drink. “This is kind of terrible.”
“You’re used to fancy coffee drinks.” He took a sip of his own black coffee. “Oh, nope. You’re right. It is terrible.”
She laughed. “I thought I’d be mad at you too, but I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident.”
He stared past her, willing away the unwanted emotion that balled up in his throat. “Maybe it was my fault.”
He didn’t have to look at her to know her eyes were fixed on him.
“He trusted me to guide him,” Grady said. “I just got so caught up in my own skiing, maybe I didn’t give him enough coaching.”
“He’s not a beginner, Grady. He does know his way around that mountain.”
Grady forced another drink down, mostly an attempt to distract himself. He would’ve changed the subject if he’d been able to think of a single thing to say.
“Jaden told me you didn’t want him training with me,” Grady said. “Maybe you were right.”
She straightened. “I’m sorry I said those things. I was wrong. I actually think you’ve been good for Jaden.”
Grady shook his head. “Obviously not.”
“You didn’t force him to go with you. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”
“You don’t understand, Quinn. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. And last time . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Last time, what?” He didn’t miss the concern in her voice.
He shouldn’t tell her about Benji. Not right now, not when her nephew was lying on the operating table somewhere in this very hospital. And yet . . . her eyes pleaded with him for one honest moment.
“Forget it,” he said.
“Grady, you can tell me.”
He thought about her faith, Jaden’s faith—the way God had ignored him up there on those slopes. Grady was the one taunting death—why wasn’t he the one getting hurt?
“You were right to push me away, Quinn.” The words physically pained him, but he knew they were true. “I’m not good enough for you.”
He studied her from across the table. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, her eyes centered squarely on him. There was something simple about her. She wasn’t fussy and didn’t pretend to be. Somehow it made her more beautiful than every woman he’d ever known.
“I’m not good enough yet,” he said. “But I want to be.”
He braced himself for whatever it was she was about to say, but before she could respond, the elevator just outside the cafeteria dinged and Gus appeared.
“He’s out of surgery,” the older man said. “And he’s asking for you, Grady.”
CHAPTER
29
QUINN STOOD OUTSIDE Jaden’s fourth-floor post-op room with her dad and Beverly, waiting for Grady to finish talking to Jaden so she could go in and check on him herself.
The hospital had a strict policy allowing only two people in the room at a time, and at that moment, Quinn found rules annoying.
“He’s going to be fine,” her dad said. “The doctor said the surgery went well, and while he’s groggy, he’s strong.”
She peered through the narrow window in the hospital room door. “Will he ski again?”
Dad looked at Beverly, then back at Quinn. “We don’t know yet.”
It would crush Jaden if he couldn’t ski anymore. And yet, if it was this dangerous, how smart was it to keep going?
She glanced at the nurses’ station, then back at her dad. “I’m going in. I don’t care about the stupid rule.”
She pushed the door open and slid inside like she was some kind of burglar. Carly, Jaden, and Grady all turned toward her.
“You guys are taking too long,” Quinn said. “I wanted to see for myself how he’s doing.” She focused on Jaden. “How are you feeling?”
His eyelids looked heavy, his nod difficult. “I’ll be okay.”
“The leg is broken in two places,” Carly said. “But the head injury was minor. Thank God for that helmet we spent a fortune on.” She squeezed Jaden’s arm. “Good thing it didn’t come off until after you hit the tree.”
Quinn glanced at Grady, whose eyes were bloodshot and tired. She’d ached for him to open up to her, wished she could be a person he could trust, but once again, he’d shut down. Changed the subject. What secrets was he keeping buried so deeply inside?
Why had he left so much unspoken?
“I’m not good enough for you.” His words had shamed her because she, sitting on her throne of judgment, had once agreed with them. Didn’t she believe that God could get ahold of this man and turn his life inside out? Wasn’t everyone redeemable?
But Grady had to want that first. She couldn’t want it for him.
“Grady’s gonna help me get back up there,” Jaden mumbled.
He was already talking about skiing again? Shouldn’t he let himself heal first?
“When you’re ready,” Grady said, as if he’d read her mind.
But Quinn knew what Jaden didn’t: Grady would be long gone by that time.
“I’m gonna head back to the hotel.” Grady stood. “Get some sleep.” He picked up his coat, then turned back. “You scared me to death today, kid.”
“Sorry,” Jaden slurred.
“Just get better, okay?”
“Grady,” Carly said. “I’m sorry—for reacting the way I did. I didn’t mean—”
He stopped her with an upheld hand. “It’s fine. I get it. And I meant what I said—whatever I can do to help him get better, I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.” Carly gave him a soft smile.
He turned, eyes working their way up to Quinn’s. “Night.” He moved past her quickly, his shoulder brushing against hers before he stole out of the room, leaving an emptiness behind.
Whatever she’d thought about Grady Benson, she’d been wrong. At least partly wrong. There was more to him than she’d ever imagined, and as she recalled the pain behind his eyes, she felt her resolve to stay away from him crumbling.
Christmas had been somber, to say the least. With Jaden knocked out on painkillers and Carly a fussing mess, they’d barely even had a chance to eat a complete meal. Quinn tried not to be too disappointed, even though Christmas was her favorite time of year.
The next day, her father asked her to play Santa Claus and deliver a stack of gifts to Grady. She stared at the neatly wrapped presents and wondered how long it had been since someone had hand-wrapped a gift for him. Had anyone ever knit Grady a scarf like Beverly or picked up a box of Harbor Pointe peanut brittle at the old-fashioned candy store like Calvin? Surely nobody but Dad had ever given him a Harbor Pointe key chain with the engraving Can’t wait to get back home.
The gifts were small potatoes compared to the kind of presents he was probably used to.
She showed up on his doorstep and rang the bell, but there was no answer. She left the gifts on the porch and drove away, wondering if he was inside the cottage, watching her go.
In the days that followed Jaden’s accident, Quinn turned her attention back to the flower shop and the Winter Carnival. In the evenings, she’d sit with Jaden while Carly was at work, or meet with her carnival team to make sure things were still on track. Her days were spent pulling together the arrangements that would fill the pavilion.
Disqualified from the Best Design competition, Quinn could breathe a little and even indulge creative ideas that hit her along the way without worrying they would be the wrong choice.
Once she was able to take a step back from the emotional turmoil of Jaden’s accident, her sense of logic returned, and she resigned herself to becoming a bystander in Grady’s life. Occasionally she ran into Grady, and while she was cordial, she wasn’t friendly. His shoulder was
cold toward her, as if he now believed what she’d said all along. They weren’t a good fit.
Besides, the clock was running out on his time in Harbor Pointe, and while she hadn’t resorted to crossing off the days on her calendar, she did know exactly how many were left.
Not many. Not nearly enough.
She’d been perfectly content before she ever knew he existed—she could get back there again. It was just taking a little longer than she thought it would.
On the opening day of the Winter Carnival, December 30, Quinn woke up early, her to-do list fresh in her mind. She pulled on a pair of ripped jeans, a tank top, and a flannel shirt, along with her favorite pair of fur-lined low boots and her coat, and trudged over to the pavilion, where several people had already begun working.
There was a table of coffee and donuts near the wall and volunteers milled around, waiting for their marching orders. She hadn’t expected to see Grady out so early, but there he was, off to the side, looking like one of them.
If she didn’t know how much he hated this so-called awful town, she might actually think it had grown on him.
He held a disposable coffee cup, and when he spotted her, he lifted it as if to say hello.
She waved, then filled her own cup and picked up a donut.
“You’re eating that?” Lucy appeared at her side.
“Don’t judge.”
“Oh, I’m not judging,” Lucy said. “You know me; I eat whatever I want—but you never do. Aren’t you worried you won’t fit into your dress for the ball?”
Quinn took a bite. “Nope.”
“Well, good for you.” Lucy grinned. “I’m proud of you.”
Quinn raised her eyebrows. “You’ve taught me well.”
“Yet I’m the one without a date.”
“Where’s Derek?”
“Working. Out of town. As usual.” She pouted.
“Well, I don’t have a date.” Quinn swallowed the bite.
Lucy shot a look across the crowd. “I thought you were going with Grady?”
She frowned. “Why would you think that?”
Lucy shrugged. “I guess I assumed.”
“You assumed wrong.”
Mrs. Trembley tapped the microphone up on the stage. “Attention. Attention, everyone. Can you hear me?”
The crowd began to settle as they listened to the old woman’s instructions, most of which weren’t necessary, given that a majority of the volunteers had been working at the event for years. Still, they let her ramble.
While the woman talked, Quinn ran through a mental checklist of what she and her team needed to do to turn this pavilion into the stunning secret garden she had in her head.
Once Mrs. Trembley finished, the crowd began to scatter, and Quinn’s team found their way to her. Danny gave her his trademark awkward smile.
“You look nice today, Quinn,” he said.
She glanced down at her disaster of an outfit and mumbled a thank-you, looking away just in time to catch Grady’s amused grin.
“Okay, people,” she said, trying to remember that she was the one in charge of this team. “It’s the day we’ve been planning for. We’ve got roughly eight hours to pull this thing off.”
“I can’t stay here for eight hours,” Ashley said. “I have to go get ready for the ball.”
Quinn pressed her lips together to keep from saying something snarky. “Maybe just stay as long as you can, okay, Ashley?”
“Whatever,” she said. She turned to Grady. “You’re dancing with me tonight, Mr. Olympian.”
Grady shifted, then glanced at Quinn, who did her best not to look flustered.
She was pretty sure she failed.
She laid out the plan. The ice sculptures had been finished yesterday, which meant they could begin assembling the arches and walkways immediately. She had a specific map, which she’d detailed color-by-number style, so there would be no confusion over which flowers went where. When she was finished, guests would feel like they were walking into a garden maze, and the masquerade theme of the ball would be the perfect complement to her designs.
The day wore on. They worked. They made multiple trips to and from the flower shop to gather all the flowers she’d already arranged from the coolers in the back of the store.
Twice Grady had come to her aid, once when she almost dropped two big buckets of flowers and once when she nearly fell off a ladder.
His hands were around her in a split second, lowering her safely to solid ground. It upended her inside, but she managed to thank him before walking away.
All day long, it was like he was there, but just out of her reach. And it left her teetering back and forth between what she’d resigned to do and what her heart wanted to do.
She didn’t like the precipice of uncertainty.
By evening, most of the volunteers had gone home to get ready, and Quinn welcomed the quiet. She wanted to walk through the space once without the commotion of so many bodies. Just to be sure it met her standards, lived up to the image in her head.
She stood in front of the main stage, where the band for tonight’s ball would play. It looked beautiful. The reflections of the white lights shimmered in the mirrors she’d placed throughout the space, sprays of wild, untamed flowers mixing with the various ice sculptures. The chandeliers were dimly lit, adding a warm glow in spite of the cool weather. Sadness clung to her at the thought of not being able to compete at the Expo. So much had happened over the last week, but it didn’t dull the pain of losing her chance to prove herself to her mother.
What if she didn’t have another design this good inside of her?
“I’m sorry about the competition thing.” It was Grady, standing behind her, reading her mind once again.
She stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the stage. He’d surprised her today, the way he stuck around and helped. He worked with the fervor of someone who was invested. Like it meant something. But then, he’d surprised her before, hadn’t he?
“It’s okay,” she said, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. “There’s always next year, right?”
He took a step forward and stood at her side. “For some of us.”
The race. It must be weighing heavily on him now, only three weeks away. She hadn’t been following the competition, but she had been following Grady. She’d seen him at the grocery store in the produce aisle, running along the streets of Harbor Pointe, and even sitting across from Jaden while her nephew recuperated.
Was this him trying to become a better man?
“Will you be back tonight?” she asked.
“Course,” he said. “Can’t let you locals have all the fun.”
She smiled and looked away.
“Missed seeing that.” He faced her now, his nearness unraveling the knot in her stomach. “Missed you.”
She glanced up at him, wishing everything about him made sense to her when nothing—absolutely nothing—did.
“Save me a dance?”
She smiled. “If you can find me.”
He groaned. “You’re doing that whole mask thing, then?”
“Of course I am.” She gave him a slight nudge, and he grabbed hold of her wrist, looking at her with those eyes. She steadied herself.
“Quinn, I’ve been thinking . . .”
So had she. Nonstop. And she needed to knock it off. “I have to get home.”
He released his grip on her and pulled his hand away. “Of course. I’ll see you tonight.”
She started off, but after only a few steps, she stopped and turned back. “Grady?”
His attention was instant.
“Thank you.”
His shoulders dropped. “For what?”
“Everything. Being there for Jaden. Helping with all this.” Her eyes found the ground. “Not giving up on me.”
What was she saying? Warning bells went off at the back of her mind. Where was her logical side now?
He inched closer and picked up her hand. “I could never.”
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With her free hand, she reached up and touched the scar just above his brow. “I want to know where you got this scar.”
“It’s a really stupid story.” There was shyness in his smile.
“But it’s your story. And I want to know it.”
He looked away. “Not all of my stories are good ones, Quinn.”
She found his eyes. He had a past—one that he wasn’t proud of. Was she going to continue to hold that against him, or was it possible to move beyond it—together? Slowly, she wove her hand up around him, pulling him closer. “I’ll save you that dance.”
His face warmed into a lopsided smile. “You really drive me crazy, you know it?”
Somehow she didn’t think he meant it as an insult.
“See you tonight.” She pulled out of his grasp and smiled. And she realized she could hardly wait to get back to him.
CHAPTER
30
IT WAS ALL TOO MUCH. The accident. The memories. Her.
Grady was ready to walk away until she turned around and thanked him. Looking at her then—her eyes so earnest and honest, like no one he’d ever known. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but oh, he wanted her.
In the week since Jaden’s accident, Grady had done a lot of soul-searching. He’d cashed out some stocks and caught up on Benji’s medical bills, instructing the hospital to send back the half of the payment his brother had made. It was a Band-Aid, and he knew it, but he’d take the rest as it came. He’d kept up with his training. Made an important phone call that might turn out to be fruitless—but maybe not. And he’d even reached out to Brian, and that conversation had taken a lot of courage.
Brian wasn’t convinced anything about Grady had changed, figured it was just a ploy to get back on his good side, and that was okay. Grady wouldn’t try to twist his arm—not with words, anyway. He’d let his skiing and his attitude speak for themselves.
His workouts were going well, and though he spent his evenings soaking his weary muscles, he was getting stronger, feeling better and more ready for his race than ever before.
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