Welcome to Pembrooke: The Complete Pembrooke Series

by Jessica Prince

  Once feeling came back in my limbs, I lifted my head and looked down at her. Lilly’s eyes were smiling, her dimple prominent, and I couldn’t help but think that, even though she was always beautiful, nothing topped what she looked like in the afterglow of amazing sex. She was take-your-breath-away stunning. Several seconds passed in complete silence as I committed every inch of her face to memory.

  “Hi,” she finally whispered up at me, breaking through the quiet of the room.

  I felt one corner of my mouth curl up in a half grin as I replied. “Hi back.”

  Her smile dimmed, the dimple disappeared, and the happiness on her face faded enough to let concern seep in and take it’s place. Lilly’s fingers moved to my hair and she brushed it back off my forehead. Her voice remained quiet as she asked, “You want to talk about whatever was bothering you over dinner?”

  I jerked back just a bit, bewildered that she’d been able to read me so well. I thought I’d covered up the fact that my conversation with Garrett was still heavy on my mind. But she saw right through my façade. Warmth spread through my chest at the same time my gut constricted with anxiousness. I did my best to push the fear and guilt back, wanting to stay wrapped in Lilly’s goodness for a little while longer.

  “I don’t want to think about the bad shit,” I answered.

  Her expression didn’t grow any less uneasy, but she nodded anyway.

  Wanting to erase her apprehension, I continued. “All I want is to be here with you, right now. Can we do that? Just stay with me in this room for tonight. We can let the real world back in tomorrow.”

  Lilly’s eyes drifted shut as she inhaled deeply. They opened once again on an exhale, and the worry was gone. “If that’s what you need.”

  It was. “It is.”

  She nodded her head and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a hug. Once again, giving me a beautiful gift.

  No. I didn’t deserve her.

  But as long as she could make me feel like this, I was going to keep her.

  23

  Lilly

  He was still holding himself back from me.

  It had been just a little over a month since we started this relationship, and it didn’t take a genius to see that he still had that invisible line between us firmly in place. I thought he’d warm up, open up. But — with the exception of sex — he was as closed off as ever.

  He didn’t talk to me about Addison. He kept us a secret from everyone he knew. He still wore his wedding ring. And any time I asked what was weighing on his mind, he’d divert, either with conversation or sex. He was a master at changing the subject.

  But I loved what we had so much I couldn’t bring myself to push him. Hell, if I were being honest with myself, it wasn’t what he had that I loved. It was just him. I was falling. Steadily and surely. More and more every single day.

  I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever laughed so hard or so much than when I was with him. He showed concern for my wellbeing, always asking about my father when he knew I went to see him. He made the pain in my heart easier to deal with. We spent every available minute together, and when our schedules didn’t sync up, we talked and texted all the time. But he refused to put a label on what we were.

  I told myself I was okay with that when really, I’d begun to worry. Even though I was falling in love with Quinn — and his actions showed me daily that he could possibly be feeling the same way — I couldn’t ignore the nagging sense that something unpleasant was just around the corner.

  But instead of heeding the warning in my head, I chose to ignore it and move forward. I’d never felt for someone like I felt for Quinn, and the thought of giving that up ate away at me. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, even though I knew, with each passing day, the pain of potentially losing him would be that much worse.

  He was worth it to me. He was worth the pain. Problem was, I couldn’t be sure I was worth it to him.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked, and the sudden sound of his voice caused me to jump and spin around, nearly dropping the dish I’d been holding.

  It had been a week since our dinner at The Moose, and I was back at his house, having had a homemade dinner of macaroni and hotdogs with him and Sophia. He’d gone to get her ready for bed and I’d started on the dishes. Once again, I hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen, and when my gaze finally landed on him, he was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his powerful chest, that sexy smirk on his face.

  I was beginning to hate that smirk. Not because it wasn’t gorgeous. It so was. But because it still didn’t reach his eyes. And every time his lips curled up, I wanted to do everything in my power to give him reason to smile with his beautiful green eyes as well.

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  Quinn pushed off the door and made his way to me, taking the soap covered plate from my hand. “I got that when you nearly jumped out of your skin, Lil.” He chuckled, as he placed the dish back into the sink. Once he finished with that, his arms banded around my waist, holding me firmly against him. “What’s got you so preoccupied you couldn’t hear a garbage truck if it drove through the room?”

  I twisted my lips and gave him a glare. “I wasn’t that preoccupied.”

  “Baby, I said your name like, five times.”

  I started at his declaration even as my skin tingled as his calling me baby. “Okay. So maybe I was that preoccupied.”

  His arms gave me a squeeze and I lifted my hands and placed them on his chest. He didn’t seem to mind I was getting his sweater wet. “So tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him that I was worried he was still keeping me at such a distance. He’d feel pressured, cornered into either giving me more or cutting and running, and I knew exactly which of those he’d pick if it came down to that. Maybe it made me a coward, but I just couldn’t lose him… not yet. Hopefully not at all.

  So, instead, I brought up another topic I’d been hesitant to bring up, but less so than the state of our relationship. It was the lesser of two evils.

  “I was just wondering…” I trailed off and lowered my eyes to where my hands rested on his chest. I played with the cotton there as I forced the words out. “We haven’t talked about it, and it’s only two days away, but… I was wondering if you and Sophia would like to come to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving?”

  The shutters slammed down over his face. His entire body froze, freezing mine right along with it. Oh God, I shouldn’t have asked. I really, really shouldn’t have asked.

  “I can’t.”

  My heart sank, but I did my best to mask that by smiling, wide and fake. “Oh… yeah! Totally. I mean, I get it,” I began to ramble, pushing back and putting pressure on his arms around me. He didn’t let go. “It’s last minute and you’re probably going to be with your folks, and we’re still, like. New. Whatever. It’s whatever. Just forget I even asked. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Damn it, I was not going to cry. But he wouldn’t let me go.

  “Lilly—”

  “I mean, it was presumptuous, right?”

  “Lil—”

  “Seriously. It is. We’re only dating. It’s not like I’m your girlfriend.”

  “Can I talk, please?”

  But I was on a roll. “Who does that? Who asks the guy she’s just dating to meet her parents on Thanksgiving?” I let out a slightly hysterical laugh, and kept trying to get him to release me. “It’s ridiculous! I’m ridiculous.”

  “Damn it, Lilly. Just—”

  “I should probably finish these dishes and get home. If you’ll just…”

  I trailed off and pointed at his arms. He loosened one, but held firm with the other. And the arm that released me came up so his hand could cover my mouth.

  “Baby. Stop.” I’d been mumbling against his palm, but the moment his clipped command left his lips, I shut up. I couldn’t read his expression, and at that very moment I really needed to kn
ow what he was thinking. Had I screwed up epically? Had I pushed too far? Was he going to end us?

  I was expecting the absolute worst, so what he said next shocked me. “Sophia’s going to Seattle for Thanksgiving, and I’m on shift at the department.” He held my eyes for a beat before finally lowering his hand from my mouth. “That’s what I was trying to say. But you went on your rant and wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled before pulling my lips between my teeth and biting down to keep my word-vomit at bay.

  Quinn’s grin returned as he tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “Christ, you’re cute always, but even cuter when you’re rambling.”

  My face went hot, but I ignored my blush in order to ask, “So, you’re not going to have Sophia for Thanksgiving?”

  The humor dissipated from his face. “No.”

  I was suddenly terribly sad for him. “Is this something that happens every year?”

  His thunderous expression told me all I needed to know, but he still vocalized his response. “No, it’s not. Her grandparents on her mom’s side called and requested they have her for the holiday. I didn’t feel like I could say no.”

  I rested my hands on either side of his neck, hating how upset he seemed at the thought of not being with his daughter on such an important day. “Of course you could say no! Or maybe they could come here instead. You’re her father, Quinn. All the decisions are yours.”

  He then let me go and took a step back, rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  That did not sit well… at all. And despite my fear of overstepping, I found anger spiking and myself saying, “Maybe I would understand, if you talked to me about it.”

  He sighed and kept his gaze diverted down. “It’s not something I want to discuss, okay? When I’m with you, I want to be with you. I don’t want to have to think about all the shit swirling around in my life.”

  “But you know I’m here, right? If you ever need to talk?” I stepped close and took his hands in mine. “That’s what you’re supposed to do with people you care about. You talk to them and they listen. You can’t push the real world out all the time, Quinn.”

  “I can goddamned well try,” he grumbled, shaking my hands loose and moving to the fridge. He yanked it open, pulled a beer out, popped the cap off, and chugged. Once he was done, his eyes came back to me, and his voice sounded devoid of all emotion when he said, “It’s late. You should probably get home.”

  Yep, I’d definitely pushed too hard. But was it really too much to ask that he talk to me? I wanted to argue. I wanted to get in his face and tell him that this wasn’t how relationships worked, that it wasn’t healthy. But I didn’t. Not because I was scared of losing him, but because I knew then just how pointless it would be. And I was tired of beating my head against a brick wall.

  Instead of arguing, I nodded and went for my purse where it rested hooked on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Yeah. You’re right. I should go.”

  I moved to step past him, concentrating on the floor at my feet as I walked, when his hand shot out and caught me around my arm. “Lilly, I’m sorry.”

  I lifted my head just enough to look at him through my lashes and offered up a tiny smile. “It’s fine, Quinn. I get it, really. Don’t worry about it.”

  Uncertainty flickered through his eyes as he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  The uncertainty remained, and I understood why with his next question. “Will you answer?”

  God, he was breaking my heart. “Yes, Quinn,” I whispered. “I’ll answer. Because in spite of everything, I really do care about you. Nothing’s going to change that.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and lifted, placing a chaste kiss against his lips. Then I walked out of the kitchen, through the house, and out the front door. I wasn’t sure who I was madder at… me for pushing too hard when I knew better.

  Or Quinn for keeping that cold, miserable distance between us.

  24

  Lilly

  I stood in my mother’s kitchen chopping onions and celery for the cornbread dressing — that was the extent of what my mother would allow me to do — while Mom and her sister, Aunt Jenny, worked on different side dishes. The house was full of family, many of them having traveled the distance to Jackson Hole to spend the holiday with my father, knowing it would more than likely be his last.

  It was great to have everyone under the same roof again, but the underlying reason as to why sat in the back of everyone’s minds, not really allowing for a totally festive Thanksgiving.

  The football game was on in the living room, and every few minutes, masculine shouts could be heard, either from triumph or disappointment. From the sounds of the yells that just reverberated through the kitchen, they weren’t too happy with whatever just happened on the screen.

  I turned in the direction of the door and smiled, loving how normal everything seemed.

  “Well, I’ll tell you one thing,” Aunt Jenny started, “Hank and Keith better be prepared to scrub these dishes spotless when we’re done eating,” she said about her husband and grown son. “I’m not slaving away, making this meal for them so they can just sit on their butts and watch football all day.”

  My mother laughed softly from her place at the stove. “Jenn, in the twenty years Keith’s been born, and the thirty you’ve been married to Hank, when have you ever known those two to leave you a dirty kitchen when you’ve spent the day cooking?”

  Aunt Jenny paused and looked up, pondering Mom’s question. “You’re right, Lizzy. I’ve trained them well.”

  We all laughed just as my cellphone rang from my back pocket. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and pulled it out. Quinn’s name shone up at me from the screen. True to his word, he’d called yesterday after the little drama we’d had the night before. I could tell he was still concerned about my mindset, but I was doing everything I could to put him at ease.

  Yes, I was still unsettled by how stagnant our relationship seemed to be, however, I couldn’t help but to hope Quinn would finally let go of the past enough to let me in.

  “Be back in a sec,” I told my mom and Aunt. I headed out the back door for some privacy, too eager to take the call to worry about bundling up against the cold temperature outside. I engaged the call and brought the phone to my ear. “Hey,” I said softly, a smile splitting my face.

  His deep, rumbly voice carried through the line. “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving. How are you? Did Sophia get to Seattle safely?”

  He sighed into my ear, and I knew he still wasn’t happy about sending his daughter to a different state for the holiday. “Yeah, got a call from her earlier this morning. She’s excited to be with her grandparents.”

  “Well that’s good,” I said, trying to give him a bit of comfort. “And it’s just two more days. She’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I know. You’re right. And she’s having a great time. I just hate being away from her.”

  My heart gave a small tug. “You’re a good dad.”

  I could hear the grin in his voice when he said, “Thanks sweetheart. So, what are you up to today?”

  I looked through the window into the kitchen to see Mom and Aunt Jenny chatting and laughing. My feet carried me along the back deck until I got a perfect view into the living room. Dad looked good… better than he had in weeks. It was like having a house full of people breathed life into him. He was happy.

  “I’m helping my mom and aunt cook. The men are camped out in front of the TV watching the game.”

  “Oh Lord, you’re in the kitchen?”

  I rolled my eyes toward the blue sky. “Ha ha, smart ass. You’ll be happy to know I’ve been relegated to chopping duty. What about you? Are you guys planning on making a turkey or anything?”

  “Nah. We tried that a couple years ago and got called out in the middle of cooking. By the time we got back the
food was ruined.”

  I frowned, thinking about him and the rest of the guys not having anything to commemorate the day. “Well that kind of sucks.”

  “Part of the job,” he replied nonchalantly. “We’ve all gotten used to it. At least with us working Thanksgiving we won’t be on shift Christmas Day.”

  My mouth dropped open and a gasp trickled out. “You’ve had to work on Christmas?”

  He laughed through the phone at my outrage. “Fires and accidents happen every day, baby. Someone has to take care of them. Besides, Thanksgiving and Christmas are two of our biggest days. You get overeager husbands who want to fry a turkey but don’t have the first fucking clue how. Might be a disaster, but it leads to some pretty entertaining stories. And at least we don’t have time to think about not being with our families if we’re constantly busy.”

  “I guess you have a point,” I pouted, hating that he was alone and working on the holidays and didn’t even get to enjoy all the delicious food.

  “Aw,” he said teasingly. “You’re worried about me. That’s sweet.”

  I let out an inelegant snort. “Please. I’m not worried. Just don’t want you to be jealous that I’ll be in a hardcore tryptophan coma in a few hours and feel like you missed out.”

  His gravelly chuckle did crazy things to my insides. “Believe me, I’d much rather be curled up next to you with a turkey hangover than here. But then I remember that I get you to myself tomorrow, no interruptions, makes it all worth it.”

  A quiver worked its way through my belly at the sinful tone of his voice, and I suddenly couldn’t wait for tomorrow. “Don’t turn me on when I have to spend the next few hours stuck in a kitchen with my mom and my aunt.”

  That got me another chuckle. “Well, don’t say something like that and turn me on when I have to go back into a room full of guys who’ll give me shit for sporting a hard-on.”

  I wouldn’t have giggled at the picture he painted if the thought of Quinn hard didn’t send a flood of arousal through my core.