by Violet Duke
“Sounded convincing though. And the pink panties to distract him while you bopped him on the head was particularly ingenious.”
Quinn flushed and pulled her shirt down a bit.
“That’s my shirt, by the way.”
“You gave it to me!”
“That’s because you tricked me into putting my favorite shirts into that evil contraption you call a clothes dryer.”
She bit her lip to keep from chuckling. Really, the man did have some awful luck with laundry appliances.
“Ah ha, you admit it.” He picked up a big shovel and started digging into the ground alongside her house.
“What are you doing?” And why are you still here? It hurt her eyes to look at him, he was so beautiful. She’d been preparing herself to not see him for a while. Not that her heart had listened. Every night since she’d seen him last, she’d dreamt of him. Missed him. Loved him beyond belief.
Only to find him here this morning. Doing… “Rylan, seriously, what are you doing here?”
“You made it clear we can’t date. But we’re still friends, aren’t we? We were getting there, at least, before we started dating. So I’m here now as your friend. I get that you don’t want to date me and burden my life. Don’t agree with it one bit, but I understand. I know you have more than enough things to worry about right now, and relationship issues is the last thing you need. That’s not why I’m here. I’m just…offering to be a friend. You can’t fault a friend from wanting to be there for you.”
God, when would he realize he was much too good for her? “Rylan, you don’t have to do that.”
“I’m afraid it’s my right as your friend, sugar. So if you’ll excuse me, I have some planting to do—I researched a bunch of plants that are supposed to be good for asthma and overall respiratory health. Then I have to go meet Lia’s brothers for a new knob and deadbolt for your door—you don’t mind if I keep a copy of the key, right? It’ll help on those nights that I’m coming over to cook you dinner to take to the hospital.”
Her hand flew up to her mouth and for a second there, she almost, almost felt herself start to cry.
But for once, not in anger or sadness or even fear.
She just loved the man so damn much. “Rylan—”
He dropped his shovel and cupped her cheek. “You’re not talking me out of this. But I will respect your wishes if you don’t want me to be around Cooper. You’re his mom and I know you’re only trying to protect him. If you think my being here, not as your boyfriend anymore, will confuse him or make him sad, just say the word.”
She shook her head. “No. Actually, Cooper already misses you.” Like I do. “He’ll love it if you still came by to visit him.”
“Not just him, sweetheart. I’m here for you, too. I’ll force-feed you take-out when you’re too tired to eat, I’ll crack my amazingly funny jokes when you’re angry at the universe, and if you’ll let me, I’ll hold your hand when you’re scared. My dad did that for me and my mom when my brother had slipped into a coma after a skateboarding accident. It helped. If for no other reason than to know that the person holding my hand loved the person I was worried about just as much as I did.”
He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a bunch of papers. “You’re not alone in this, Quinn. And it’s not just me being stubborn about it, too.”
She reached over and flipped through about a dozen flyers for concerts, craft fairs, and other fundraisers.
All for Cooper.
“Rylan, you shouldn’t have done this. We don’t need to be burdening—”
“I didn’t do this. Well, the concerts, yes. But the rest, that’s all the town’s doing.” He gave her a half shrug. “You moved to a nosy, nosy little town, sweetie. Cooper told his friends at school that he was going to be having surgery, and those kids told their parents, who then called Cooper’s teacher—who neither confirmed nor denied the info—and after deciding that was good enough recon for them, those parents contacted pretty much everyone in town.”
Quinn hung her head down and couldn’t help but laugh.
Lordy, this town…
“Of course, after half the things were already planned, someone came forward with true confirmation…via folks overhearing you yelling at your insurance company over the phone for not covering the surgery over some technicality.”
That mild rush of panic she’d gotten when she’d first heard the news hit her in the pit of her stomach again, and she swallowed back the bile as she explained bitterly, “They disagree with the treatment plan. They’re saying it’s too radical a procedure in Cooper’s case. They say that we have to first try a few other surgeries and exhaust all these other ridiculous avenues. All of which could take months that Cooper simply doesn’t have. They said that if we do all those other surgeries first, and none of them work, then they’ll cover the reconstructive surgery. But we just don’t have that kind of time to wait.”
“Heartless pricks,” snarled Rylan. “Have you tried talking to Connor? Maybe get some legal help from his firm?”
“No. Again, we don’t have that kind of time. So we’re just going to go ahead with the procedure and pay out of pocket.”
Rylan tapped on the flyers. “Well, now you have a little help with that.”
He walked back over to his shovel and wheelbarrow of plants. “Rylan?”
“Hmmm?”
“Thank you. For this. All of this. For being my friend. For helping. And…for coming back.”
“You can always count on me for all of the above, sugar. I’m not going anywhere.”
Yeah. She was starting to see that.
* * * * *
TWO WEEKS LATER, Quinn was quickly getting in some spoonfuls of the chili that Rylan had made as she watched him toss the ball around with Cooper in the back yard.
She still couldn’t believe that in the last week alone, he’d gone and done every single one of the very chores his poker games were famous for.
Washed her dog? Check. Dishes, car wash, shopping—with Penny and the kids no less. Check, check, and check. Then the big one—a load of laundry. From start to finish, without her supervision.
She’d had no words.
They were clean, yes. All wearable? Not so much.
He did manage to get a bunch of her blouses so crispy that she’d probably never have to iron them again for work. A scientifically fascinating feat she was still trying to figure out.
God, he was just the most incredible man. And a great friend, too. Lately, she found they could spend hours talking about anything and everything. Even business. Since she and Luke were starting to go through some possible financial hardships with the shop, for the past week, Rylan had actually been a great sounding board for her to bounce ideas off of, something she’d never really had before. Luke, bless his heart, had great ideas for sure, but the man couldn’t run a business to save his life.
Rylan, however, had a lot of experience from starting up his own landscaping business, and managing his band. They’d since spent a lot of time just talking business, which would lead to them discussing life in general into the wee hours of the night.
She missed him.
Even now, as she watched him playing with Cooper outside, she found she didn’t just miss kissing him and seeing that brain-scrambling body of his up close—though, she most definitely did—she missed just being with him. One day, after a particularly rough few days almost two weeks ago, Rylan had arranged for Quinn to have that spa day he’d mentioned once. Basically, he’d tricked her out of the house and pushed her out of the car at the doorstep of the spa where three people with mystically zen voices had come forward to whisk her into Shangri-la. It had been the single most relaxing day of her life. But, throughout the whole royal treatment, the entire time she’d been getting massaged and pampered to within an inch of becoming comatose with tranquility, all she’d been able to think about was how Rylan and Coop were home making mini homemade pizzas and watching a movie.
Just a few short months ag
o, if you’d asked her what her fantasy day-off would consist of, she would’ve absolutely said the spa. But when fantasy became reality, she’d discovered that relaxation was highly overrated. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d have preferred to have been at home just watching a movie and eating mini homemade pizzas. With her two favorite people.
It was a revelation she was still trying to grasp the full weight of.
Not today though.
Checking the time, she popped one last spoonful of food in her mouth and then ran to grab a quick shower before Rylan had to head out.
Feeling a little country today, she belted out her favorite country rock tune while gloriously using up all the hot water. These were exactly the sort of things she never took for granted—the half hour to eat and sing in the shower, all the while knowing that Coop was alright. Rylan made sure she had that every day if possible. And she was grateful to him for it every day.
That said, she didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. Sprinting out of the bathroom, she hightailed it down the hall to her bedroom.
Where she ran smack dab into a mountain of muscles.
Her fingers flexed into his sides on reflex. And when she looked up, the burst of hunger burning in his eyes nearly consumed her whole.
His gaze ran over her face as if he were seeing the first blades of grass in spring. “You didn’t tell me you could sing like that.” God, his voice. She’d missed hearing his smoky voice curl around her, and deepen the longer she stood in his arms.
Belatedly, his words registered and she blushed. She never let anyone hear her sing. Back when she was younger, she and Penny used to sing in the community choir, but she’d long since stopped training her voice. “Did I sound like a drowning cat?”
Smiling affectionately at her, he shook his head. “You sounded like a sea siren, sugar.” His eyes traced over her lips. “Your voice is every bit as beautiful as you are.”
Slowly then, he rested his forehead against hers, murmuring so quietly she almost didn’t hear him, “So damn beautiful.”
Every cell in her body was screaming at her to just tilt her lips up to his, to take the kiss they were both dying for.
“I better head out, sweetheart.” He squeezed her hands gently. “See you at the fundraising auction tomorrow.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NEXT NIGHT, the small post-fundraising auction gathering at Ocotillos was already in full swing by nine p.m. Seemed like the entire town had turned out both for the auction and the after-party at Ocotillos. Rylan couldn’t have been more thrilled. They’d raised a ton of money for Coop, and Quinn was now looking genuinely content, almost completely at ease, for the first time in a long while. It was like the avalanche the universe had piled on her shoulders had finally lessened, if only for a few short hours.
That’s all that mattered.
Not the widening pit in his heart that ached to be filled whenever he was around her but couldn’t drag her to him for a kiss.
Not the sharp sense of loss he felt every time he left her home to spend the rest of the night wishing he could just be there holding her while she slept, making sure that she slept.
Not the feeling of wanting so badly to tell her how freakin’ much he missed her and wanted to spend the rest of his life loving both her and Coop.
No, this right here, this was all that mattered.
All of a sudden, he needed a breather. After quickly making sure she was still okay, and still smiling, he went outside to grab a moment alone to collect his thoughts.
It didn’t last long.
“Excuse me, do you know where I could find Quinn and Cooper?” asked a deep voice with a hint of an accent Rylan couldn’t quite place.
Looking over at the man in the designer suit, Rylan asked none-too-politely, “How do you know Quinn and Cooper?”
The man shifted his eyes from the brewpub, then back to Rylan. “Let’s just say, I’m an old acquaintance.”
When the man turned back to him fully, Rylan realized he was looking at a grown-up version of Cooper. “Shit. You’re Brody aren’t you? Cooper’s dad.”
Rylan waited exactly half a head nod as confirmation before he grabbed the man by his throat and dragged him to the side alley. “You’re a far way’s from Europe, Mr. Deadbeat Dad. What the hell are you doing here?”
Brody knocked Rylan’s hands away. “Back off, man. I’m here to talk to Quinn. Family matters.”
Rage rushed through Rylan’s veins so fast he was afraid for one second there that he truly was going to murder the man.
My family.
Quinn and Cooper were his family, not this asswipe’s. He wasn’t going to let this toxic piece of shit anywhere near Quinn or Cooper.
“Don’t you ever use Quinn and the word family in the same sentence again. You’re not family. You’re just the asshole who cheated on his girl, and left her to give birth to raise her son on her own. You’ve never sent her a single penny to help with Coop’s medical bills, and you’ve never even sent him a frickin’ birthday or Christmas card.”
“Look, it was the best thing for them both when I left. If I’d stayed, I would’ve screwed up their lives,” said Brody, suddenly looking and sounding almost…regretful.
Too little, too late. “Just get the hell out of here.”
“Don’t you think that’s Quinn’s decision? What gives you the right to keep a boy from his father? What, you think just because you’re sleeping with her, you can play step dad to my son?”
Rylan saw red. Chest heaving, he was so angry he couldn’t see straight. He rammed Brody back up against the wall, very nearly cracking the man’s head open in the process. “I’m going to ask you one last time,” he snarled. “What are you doing here?”
Brody snarled right back. “Can’t a father just want to help his son?”
Where this douche bag was concerned? Over Rylan’s dead body.
That’s when a thought occurred to him. “You know about Cooper’s surgery, don’t you?” His eyes narrowed and he let him down. “How?”
Brody shrugged. “There’s been some buzz on YouTube and some crowdsource pages that went viral after the chocolate and beer thing here. So I thought I’d stop by to see if I could...help.”
Rylan had a sickening feeling he knew where this was going. “Okay, you want to help Quinn? Cut a check right now and I’ll see to it that she gets it. Every little bit will ease the stress she’s been under lately.”
Brody’s jaw ticked and Rylan could practically see the conniving wheels turning.
“See, that’s the thing.” Brody’s voice turned slick. “Finances are a little tight right now. But I thought with all this music stuff you guys have going on to help Cooper, I’m a musician so why not come on down and help.”
Rylan stood there in shock for a second, almost disbelieving his own ears. “You’re just here to cash in on all the social media attention.”
Brody simply shrugged, but at least he showed embarrassment—albeit a fleeting microsecond mini flash only—over his despicable actions. “If my being here creates a bigger buzz, it’ll mean more attention for Cooper, right? Which will mean more money. What’s the harm in getting me a little face time and name time in the process? I mean how great would it be for everyone to see Coop and I doing some photo ops, maybe before and after the surgery, that sort of thing? We could even do some sort of documentary of the whole surgery, too. And I could play the music in the background of the video, you know?”
Un-friggin-believable. The guy was lower than scum. He was an evil, opportunistic little prick willing to put his own five-year old son through a possible media circus for a little table scrap of publicity. “You’d put your own son through that? Record all the fear and pain he’s about to go through and splash it all over the creation? You would do that knowing full well with the internet now days that it could all escalate to something crazy or even morph into something ugly that could possibly blow back against Quinn somehow—jeopardize the
fundraisers or even her business. You’d be willing to put your ‘family’ through all of that?”
Rylan’s voice shook with pure fury. “After all you’ve already done to her, this is how you treat the mother of your child? Quinn would do absolutely anything for Cooper, anything to keep him happy, keep him safe. Even if it meant slaving away for pennies day and night for the next three lifetimes, she’d rather choose that path than subject that amazing little boy to a tenth of what you’re suggesting.”
Now it was Brody’s turn to look stunned. “You love Quinn.”
“I love them both,” he snapped. “And until my dying day, I’ll protect them in any way I can.”
For a second there, Rylan could’ve sworn that he saw a look of empathy in Brody’s expression. Even respect.
But it was gone a moment later, only to be replaced by a slow transformation, that seemed to shift Brody’s entire demeanor. Rylan didn’t trust that gleam in his eye.
“You know…” Brody began with carefully measured words. “I can see that my being here is a concern for you. I guess I don’t blame you. I could go back to Europe. Without Quinn and Cooper even knowing I was here…if that’s what you want.”
Rylan’s eyes narrowed and he remained silent, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Brody lifted an innocent, golly-gee shoulder. “I could just help out from Europe. With a song.” He leveled a look on Rylan. “But, really, it seems like the public who have been following Cooper’s story already thinks there’s already a perfect “dad” song on YouTube. I must’ve seen hundreds of comments just yesterday alone talking about how this song is the most amazing father–son anthem…”
Rylan couldn’t friggin’ believe his ears. “You want credit for my song. The song I wrote for Cooper.”
“Well, I just think it would be a little weird for there to be two Dad songs on this project, don’t you?”
The feral growl that came blasting out of Rylan’s chest was all the warning Brody needed to narrowly miss the fist coming at him.
Rylan jerked back his hand and shook off the blood. That brick wall might have possibly broken his hand, but he didn’t even register the pain. “You were never Cooper’s dad.”