Releasing Me

by Jewel E. Ann

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into him. With one hand on my back and the other gently holding my hand clasped in his, he gracefully led me around the room effortlessly staying in step to the slow rhythm of Nat King Cole singing “The Christmas Song.”

  “My Latin lover can dance too. I am One. Lucky. Girl.”

  “The Scottie dog,” he casually said.

  Tilting my head to the side, I squinted my eyes in complete confusion.

  “When I play Monopoly … I’m not the race car, I’m the Scottie dog.”

  I couldn’t hold back my laugh. “Okay, good to know.”

  “When I was five my parents or ‘Santa’ brought me a Scottie dog for Christmas. I hadn’t thought about him for years until you asked me about Monopoly at my holiday party.” He had a soft warm expression on his face.

  The thought of Quinn reminiscing about his childhood melted my heart. “What did you name him?”

  “Scott.”

  I giggled, which I usually only did when I’d had too much to drink, but in that moment I was drunk on Quinn. “Scott? You named your Scottie dog Scott?”

  Spinning me around then dipping me back with slow control and his face just inches from mine, he whispered, “I was five.”

  Lifting me back up, he embraced me in his arms and kissed me as the song ended. Ruining the moment, I giggled against his lips. “Scott …” I laughed some more.

  He pinched my sides until I squealed, “Stop! That tickles.”

  Then he bear-hugged me and dragged me to the couch where he plopped down with me in his lap. “Since you think everything’s so funny, I’m going to at least give you something better to laugh about.”

  “Stop!” I squealed and squirmed some more. “I’m sorry, it’s just so …”

  “So what?” he asked, finally giving me a reprieve.

  I flipped around and straddled him, cupping his jaw in my hands and running my thumbs over his rough dark stubble. “It’s just so endearing. You’re such a sexy, confident, successful, and sometimes intimidating man. The thought of you as a little boy with your Scottie dog named Scott just makes me love you even more.”

  His mood sobered as if he was wanting to say something but didn’t know how. Chewing the inside of his cheek he met my eyes.

  “You never told me what you and Senator Carlson were talking about that bothered you.”

  Looking down, I pulled in a deep breath and slowly released it. “We were talking about my parents. I told you the case was unsolved and the police called it a home invasion. However, it was more complicated than that. My dad made some enemies over the years during his time as a prosecuting attorney and Supreme Court justice. A few undisclosed sources believed the murders were retaliation for the conviction of a former police officer my dad prosecuted a decade earlier. The conviction was for narcotics, but the undisclosed sources believed the officer was connected to a few thugs who were wanted for some pretty heinous crimes. What I walked in on the day I found my parents was not your average home invasion. It was personal. Someone was sending a message. Concerned for my safety and that of my family, we were advised by some prominent people in law enforcement to let it go. There was an investigation to make everything official, but the case was left unsolved for reasons only a handful of people knew about. Edward, Senator Carlson, was not in the need to know group, which left him in the group of people who were angered by what they called a ‘botched investigation.’”

  “Are you in danger?” he asked with a grave look of concern.

  I chuckled. “Not likely. As long as I’m not shoving the cold case in some prosecutor’s face demanding they continue to look into it, I’m not a threat to anyone. If they really wanted me, they would have left my body for my parents to find not the other way around. Why? Is my big, strong man going to protect me?”

  “You have no idea the extremes I would go to for you.”

  I couldn’t hide my complete adoration for him. No man had ever made me feel so protected, so cherished, so loved.

  With a big smile, I jumped off his lap. “I don’t know what your holiday traditions were, but we opened one gift on Christmas Eve.” I grabbed a large rectangular gift I had wrapped and set under the tree earlier that morning. “Open it,” I said with giddy excitement as I handed it to him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked with a goofy kid-like grin, “It’s only four o’clock.”

  “Yes, yes … open it.”

  Quinn was the epitome of the man who had everything. I’d had his gift long before I ever knew for sure if I’d get the chance to give it to him. I thought it would end up being mine as a reminder of a very emotional and heartfelt moment in my life. I spent a lot of money arranging and paying for it, but when I was wrapping it for Quinn I knew it was worth it.

  As soon as the paper fell to the floor, he froze holding the sides and resting it on his knee. He took a deep swallow as tears swelled in his eyes.

  “It’s by a Spanish pencil artist. He’s done pieces for celebrities and royalty. After seeing her on the beach the first day we arrived, I knew I wanted to capture her. As you know everyone has a price. Luckily, I’m pretty frugal with my money so I had enough spare change to track him down and bring him to the beach house. I wanted to remember her and our time together forever, but more than that, I wanted to give you a piece of her that you didn’t get to see.”

  In his hands he held a pencil drawing of Elena in a lounge chair on the beach overlooking the Mediterranean. It looked like a professional black and white photo but even more exquisite. The attention to detail was stunning. It was a side view of her with her eyes closed and head tilted back. A light breeze was softly flowing through her hair and a peaceful aura of contentment graced her face. It was sketched exactly one week before she died.

  “Addy, I…” he choked on his words.

  I kneeled down on the floor in front of him and gently pulled the framed sketch from him and rested it against the coffee table so he could still see it. Not taking his eyes off it, he shook his head and wiped the corners of his eyes with his palms. I didn’t say anymore. I wanted to give him that moment. The sketch was so lifelike. It captured the essence of her soul. Looking at it made her presence felt. I crawled between his knees and hugged his torso. He combed his fingers through my hair and finally looked into my eyes.

  “You’re so fucking amazing. No one has ever done anything like this for me.”

  “Now we can both enjoy it as long as you don’t try to kick me out again.” I laughed, squeezing him tighter to lighten the mood.

  “I will never and I mean never kick you out again. AND … if you ever try and leave I will make it my life’s goal to track you down.”

  Pulling back, I raised a single brow.

  “A little creepy?” he asked.

  Not saying anything, I held up my thumb and index finger about a half inch apart.

  *

  I made soup and seeded artisan bread for dinner while Quinn surprised me with his handyman skills. He brought a hammer, small level, and some picture hooks out from his office. Within minutes he had the framed sketch of Elena mounted to the wall above his fireplace.

  He stopped in the kitchen and stood behind me taking in a deep whiff of the soup aroma. I spooned some up with a long bamboo ladle then blew on it before offering him a taste.

  Taking a cautious sip of the steamy liquid, he hummed. “Mmm, damn woman, you sure can cook.”

  Glancing down at the tools in his hand, I responded, “Yeah, but my skills are limited. Not to sound condescending, but I never envisioned you with a toolbox hidden in your office. I underestimated you, babe.”

  He kissed me before walking back to his office. “Never underestimate me,” he playfully shouted back.

  It was almost more than one woman deserved. Latin sex god with a silky accent and a brilliant finance guy by day meets extreme sports jock with a to-die-for body who dons a tool belt on the weekends. Panty sizzling.

  We ate dinner by candlel
ight. It was casual yet romantic. Our bubble was perfect. It may have been the calm before the storm, but I cherished every minute that didn’t involve my past, or his future as a father to another woman’s child.

  “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asked while I methodically stirred my soup with a chunk of bread.

  “You.” I smiled as I glanced across the table at him.

  “Mmm, clothed or naked?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

  I replied with a soft chuckle, “Naked of course. You’re my all-time favorite sculpture, a modern day Michelangelo.”

  “Are you going to leave me if I turn fat and ugly someday?”

  “Absolutely. Men don’t grow babies or battle menopause. There’s no good reason for you to be anything but eye candy.”

  “Eye candy, huh?”

  Taking a sip of soup, I let the spoon linger at my lips and winked at him. “Speaking of … I can’t believe we’ve been home alone this long and I’m still waiting for you to have your way with me. Are you not feeling up to it?”

  His sexy, crooked smirk taunted me almost as much as the rest of his sinful body. “Baby, I’m always up for you. I just like you so hot and bothered that you damn near self-combust from my slightest touch.”

  Squinting my eyes at him, I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why must we always see who can hold out the longest? Maybe we should see who can go the longest, see who has the most stamina.”

  “You don’t like it when I play hard to get?” he asked, looking all too confident with a gleam in his eyes and a teasing grin.

  “Puh-lease …” I blurted out as I stood up. After tossing my napkin on the table, I slipped off my leggings then removed my sweater in one swift motion.

  “Sweet Jesus … what are you doing?” he asked as his eyes greedily drank me in.

  My nice comfy clothes were hiding my naughty lingerie, which consisted of a red see-through floral lace shelf bra with a white bow in the middle and matching thong panties. I straddled his lap then grazed my tongue along his jaw to his ear. “I’m just seeing if you like playing hard to get when I’m playing Santa’s naughty helper.” I unbuttoned his pants and rubbed the bulge straining against his briefs.

  His breath hitched as he closed his eyes. “Addy …”

  “Quinn,” I whispered over his mouth before I sucked in his bottom lip and teased it with my teeth.

  He arched his back and dropped his head back. “Addy, I wanted to do something first.” The higher pitch to his voice sounded like a desperate plea.

  With his head still tilted back, I kissed his throat as my hand stroked his erection. “What could you possibly want…” I continued to suck and nibble at his neck. “…to do before this?”

  His phone on the counter rang with the worst timing ever.

  “Ugh! I hate your stupid phone … don’t get it,” I pleaded as my hand slipped under the waistband of his briefs. The deep moan from his throat fed my craving for more. Pushing his briefs down past his erection, I scooted up his body until my entrance rested at his moist tip. Pressing my mouth to his, I pulled the strap of my thong to the side and sank onto him, savoring the intensity of the fullness.

  Surrendering, he thrust his tongue into my mouth and grabbed my ass. Then his phone rang again.

  He ignored it, focusing solely on me. Our mouths and hands were reckless, but our rhythm was seductively slow. His phone rang again. We both wanted to ignore it, but the loud ring was too distracting. The caller was relentless which was unusual and therefore concerning on Christmas Eve. The romantic mood was starting to spoil.

  He growled in frustration as I crawled off his lap so he could answer his phone.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” he demanded as he stood up and stumbled to the counter while tucking himself back into his briefs.

  “This better be important,” he answered in a clipped firm voice. He was silent for several moments while he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

  He zipped his pants without a word or even a glance in my direction. His serious demeanor was nerve-racking. I was afraid to ask who called. Without hesitation, I slipped my clothes back on, and he made no attempt to stop me. Clearly distracted, he headed for the door and grabbed his keys and jacket. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Quinn?” I said with a soft hesitation.

  He stilled, as if the sound of my voice startled him. Our eyes met for a brief moment. “I have to go.”

  His lack of explanation prevented me from asking anything else. We were about fifteen feet away from each other, but in that moment it felt like an ocean between us.

  “Okay,” was all I said. He was out the door. I was stunned. In such a short amount of time we went from sharing everything to sharing nothing. As I turned to blow out the candles on the table, I heard the door open.

  Waving the trail of smoke away, I looked to the entry where Quinn was standing again.

  “Come with me.”

  Nodding, I grabbed my purse, shoved my feet into my boots, and slipped my arms in the jacket he was holding open for me. He held my hand, lacing our fingers, while he led me out the door and to the parking garage. Always the gentleman, he opened my door and waited for me to buckle in, then he leaned in and kissed me.

  “I love you,” he said with a wrinkle of concern etched on his face. Before I could muster a response, he shut the door.

  As we pulled out of the parking garage I found my voice. “Where are we going?”

  “Hospital.”

  His lack of elaboration left a knot in my gut.

  “What’s going on Quinn?”

  Keeping his eyes on the road, he rubbed his forehead to ease some tension. “Olivia was having some cramping and bleeding.”

  We rode the rest of the way in silence. The storm of emotions that surged through me was overwhelming. Quinn was too quiet. I couldn’t read him. Was he angry? Was he sad? Then there was my awkward presence. The girlfriend showing up at the hospital where the mother of his child was possibly miscarrying his baby. I could only be insult to her injury. My racing mind couldn’t sort out why he brought me, unless it was for his emotional support … but he wasn’t saying anything. He parked and jumped out. I remained still, but not because I was waiting for him to be chivalrous, I was having second thoughts about being there.

  He opened the door, but I just sat there.

  “Come on, baby,” he said in a hurried voice.

  “Quinn … I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Addy––” He blew out a long breath. “It’s cold and snowing. You’re not going to wait in the car.”

  “You shouldn’t have brought me.”

  He reached in and unfastened my seatbelt. “Well, I did because leaving you at home alone with your thoughts was not an option. Now let’s go.”

  I wanted to scream at him. He didn’t trust me but it wasn’t the time or place to have that discussion so I hopped out. He grabbed my hand and led me to the entrance. When we reached the maternity floor, Quinn checked in at the nurses’ station while I stayed back a few feet. One of the nurses gave him an update and offered to take him to see Olivia. Their voices were soft, but I heard her say they were monitoring Olivia and waiting for the doctor. As the nurse started walking down the corridor, Quinn looked back at me.

  I shook my head. “Go, I’ll wait out here.”

  He hesitated then offered me a weak smile and a nod before following the nurse. I was committed to our relationship. It wasn’t going to be easy. The time had come to hunker down and wait out the storm. Quinn sitting beside her bed holding her hand as they waited to find out the fate of their child ate at me like acid. I couldn’t bear to see it, yet I was going crazy wondering what was happening. He refused to leave me at home with my thoughts and by then I knew why. The mind was a powerful weapon. Imagination left to itself was more destructive than reality.

  There were a few people in the waiting r
oom, mostly older people such as grandparents waiting for news of their new grandchildren. Grabbing a gossip magazine, I plopped down in a chair and absentmindedly thumbed through the pages. An hour later, I’d skimmed through every magazine and still no word. My patience had worn off. After shooting off a text to Quinn, I rode the elevator down.

  I needed fresh air, even if it was cold and snowy outside. The frigid air stung my face as the automatic entrance doors slid open. Reaching in my pockets, I felt around for my gloves, but they weren’t there. I could not remember if I had them when we went inside. Quinn had the key to the Range Rover, but I decided to peek in the window to see if I’d left them on the seat. There was no need to go back inside to look for them if I never carried them in. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I ducked my head and hunched my shoulders trying to shield my skin from the biting wind. When I reached the Range Rover, I used the sleeve of my coat to dust the snow off the window then cupped my hands over my eyes to see inside.

  That was all I remembered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Quinn

  Worst fucking Christmas Eve ever! The day started out perfect with a good workout and then home to be with Addy. I had a one-track mind most days: get all my shit done and get home to Addy. She was stronger than any addiction I could have ever had. Work became work and play was no longer fun without her. I was undoubtedly the best possible version of myself around her, some days almost too much. I still had my man card, but it was tainted, like she somehow sprayed her jasmine oil on it and hid it in her goddamn pussy. The only time I knew for sure that I still had it was when I was buried balls deep inside her.

  I had special plans for us that night. When she gave me the sketch of my mother something in our relationship shifted. I’d stood atop the summit of Everest, visited the pyramids of Egypt, climbed the Great Wall of China, and scuba dived the Great Blue Hole in Belize. None of those sights even came close to the beauty captured in the sketch of my mother. Addy gave me the last peaceful moment in my mother’s life … the essence of her being. The picture was so lifelike, every detail was immaculate and perfect. The tears came. I felt like a pathetic pussy. That woman was hell-bent on bringing me to my knees every single day, and the fucking crazy part about it was she had no idea what she did to me.