by Lee Kilraine
Thankfully, to Delaney’s mind, they didn’t have to walk the gauntlet since Greer was sitting just two booths in from the door they entered. Quinn sat in the seat first, sliding over to make room for her. She gave him the evil eye when he tried to leave his arm along the back of the seat. Sheesh, didn’t he know everyone was watching? Just because she had slept at his house, it didn’t necessarily follow that they had slept together, right?
Greer stood up and gave Delaney a hug across the table. “Delaney, I’d like you to meet my friend Jack. Jack, this is my sister, Delaney.”
“Nice to meet you, Delaney.” Jack stood, reaching across the table to shake her hand.
“Jack.” Delaney shook his hand but used it to pull him forward to whisper, “If you ever hurt my sister you will live to regret it.” She released Jack’s hand, ignoring Greer’s “would you cut that out” look.
Delaney sat down across from Jack and gave Quinn a quick warning glance to behave. He was looking way too . . . something. Innocent? Relaxed?
“Well, hell, you got laid,” Jack said after looking at Quinn again. “You weren’t dating anyone when I left, so who could you have—oh.”
Greer grinned at both Delaney and Quinn.
“I finally meet the famous Delaney and Quinn finally gets laid.” Jack lifted his coffee mug to Quinn in a toast.
“You know, I only just met you. It wouldn’t make me sad to hurt you. I do not want to announce this to everyone.” Delaney looked around, noticing a lot of heads turned her way. What heads weren’t looking were busy whispering to each other.
Renee, the waitress, was all ears as she slid two more mugs of coffee on the table.
Jack grinned. “I apologize, but you don’t need to say a thing. Quinn’s face says it all.”
“Actually, Officer Jack, it would be helpful if Delaney would say everything a little louder. Our hearing isn’t what it used to be,” Beatrice Simon requested from the booth behind Delaney.
“Hey, I can’t help it if I feel like I won the lottery.” Quinn grinned and slipped his arm along the booth behind Delaney.
“Officer Cates won the lottery!” Beatrice’s sister, Agatha, excitedly informed the booth next to hers.
“Would you stop?” Delaney said to Quinn, throwing an elbow into his ribs for emphasis, which only made Quinn grin even bigger. “We are not going to talk about getting laid or sex.”
“Officer Cates had to make a raid on his ex” got passed around from booth to booth. Delaney could see the gossip travel like the wave in a stadium. She got that itchy feeling just like the many times people had talked about her and Greer or their parents when they were growing up.
“Quinlan Cates, that is the last time I let you in my bubble,” Delaney whispered in frustration. “And my bed.”
“Delaney said they like to blow bubbles in bed.”
Quinn leaned over to whisper back, “Not to brag, but I’m pretty sure I made your bubble my bitch last night.”
“Officer Cates is sure her trouble is an itch to fight.”
Damn it. She was tired of being grist for the Grapevine, but it especially pissed her off when it wasn’t even true. The “itch to fight” might end up prophecy at the rate she was going, but bubbles in bed? Almost a decade had passed and still people in this town needed to get a life that wasn’t hers.
“All right, everyone.” Delaney stood up next to the booth. “Listen up. No one at this table won the lottery or executed a raid on their ex. No bubbles. No itching. No fighting. Quinlan Cates and I slept together. Okay? Any comments or objections?”
“Well, this ought to make your shopping trip with my mom more interesting,” Quinn said, casually dumping a teaspoon of sugar in his black coffee.
Delaney whipped shocked eyes around to look at Quinn. She’d forgotten all about the shopping trip.
“I object.” Yvette stood up. “I went on a date with Quinn and he didn’t sleep with me.”
Everyone turned their eyes on Quinn, who choked on the gulp of coffee he had just taken. “Uh, sorry?”
The two other women sitting at Yvette’s booth stood up. “We object too. Between us, we went on three dates with Quinn and he wouldn’t sleep with us either. We even offered to share.”
“What did you do? Form a support group?” Delaney asked while everyone looked to Quinn again.
“You were offered a threesome and turned it down?” Jack asked, managing to sound both disappointed for all mankind and impressed at his willpower.
“Hey, I meant no offense, ladies.” Quinn held his hands up to surrender. “I’m sure most of the single men in here would pay to sleep with you.”
“That would make them hookers,” Delaney said. Jack choked on his coffee while Greer grinned.
Quinn shot Delaney a look. “Yeah, that came out wrong. I meant you’re all attractive women, and most single guys here would kill to go on a date with you.”
“But then I’d be dating a felon,” Yvette said. “I guess I could make conjugal visits work.”
Delaney turned and gave Quinn a look.
“All right,” she said, turning her attention back to the diner crowd. “If that’s it for objections, then y’all can please go back to your regularly scheduled lives and leave—”
When a man at the other end of the diner stood up out of his seat, Delaney’s frustration expanded exponentially. She scowled at the man, which backed him up two steps until he was up against the counter.
“Seriously? I don’t even know you.” A headache slammed its way to the front of her forehead. “What could you possibly be objecting to?”
The man’s brown eyes were locked with an intensity on her face. Then he blinked, flicked his gaze around the diner, and back to her. “Oh, uh, no. I was just getting up to pay my bill.”
“Well, hell, I’m sorry. Don’t mind me.” Oh good, watch the crazy war vet accost perfect strangers. Being in the crowded diner had her on edge. She needed to get a damn grip, but first she needed some air. “I need to go. I can’t breathe.”
Outside, Delaney paced the sidewalk in agitated strides while she rubbed vigorously at her left temple. No matter how many times she inhaled, she couldn’t get enough air. The lack of air might be the source of the stabbing pain in her chest.
“Delaney? Are you all right?” She turned to find Greer, Quinn, and Jack staring at her.
Hell no, she wasn’t all right, but she’d known that for months. It’s just that she’d been trying to keep Greer from having to see the carnival side show she’d become. She shook her head and paced some more. For some damn reason, her hands were tingling.
“All right? I’m awesome. I can’t breathe. My hands are numb and I might be having a heart attack. I’ve got this stabbing pain behind my eye, which started when I announced that I had monkey sex with Quinn last night. In front of everyone. The only one missing was Quinn’s mother.” Delaney stopped her pacing. Turning around to face Quinn and Greer, she let out a surprised squeak. “Well, hello, Mrs. Cates. How long have you been here? Uh, I mean it’s nice to see you again.”
“Delaney, dear, it’s wonderful to see you.” Mama Cates pushed past Greer and Quinn to reach out and squeeze Delaney’s hands. “Call me Mama C or Mama, dear. I’m so sorry to hear about your foot, Delaney.”
“Oh, hey, Ma,” Quinn said, without taking his eyes off Delaney. “Maybe Delaney could take a rain check on the shopping trip?”
Mama Cates looked into Delaney’s strained face, sliding her hand up to her wrist. “Ach, your pulse is going a mile a minute and you’re white as a sheet. No, let’s go. We’ll keep shopping to a minimum and have a spa day instead. You need to relax, dear.”
“But . . .” Delaney waved her hand toward Quinn, then stuttered to a stop at Quinn’s cocky raised eyebrow. Delaney wondered which Quinn’s mother would mind more—that she’d had sex with her son or that she’d choked him to death in front of her.
“Don’t be embarrassed about the monkey sex. Based on what we all just heard
in there, it’s about time Quinn—how does your generation say it? ‘Got some’?”
“Oh, no. You heard that?” Delaney whimpered.
Quinn stepped past his mother, pulling Delaney into his arms. Her forehead slumped onto his chest. “Ma’s right about the stress. It can’t be good for you. Go shop and relax.”
“I’m so confused. My head hurts. I’m sure your mother hates me,” Delaney whispered to him. “And I hate shopping.”
“Two hours tops.” Mama Cates popped over Quinn’s shoulder to assure her. “You need a distraction. Nothing does that like shopping. We’ll head to Macy’s. They’re having a lingerie and panty sale.”
Delaney lifted her head turning toward her sister, desperation threading her voice. “Greer? You’re coming too, aren’t you? Uh, you know, panty shopping with Mama Cates?”
“I’d love to, no lie, but since I took the morning off, I’ve got a backload of patients this afternoon.”
Mama Cates hooked elbows with Delaney and steered her toward her burgundy sedan in the parking lot. “Let’s go. It’s called retail therapy for a reason.”
Delaney slid onto the passenger seat with one last bleak look toward Quinn and Greer. After buckling in, she clenched her hands in her lap, still shaky and numb. Retail therapy? After that scene, she had a sinking feeling retail therapy wasn’t the only therapy in her future.
Quinn let out a deep breath as he watched Delaney and his mom drive away. Holy hell, this was the last thing Delaney needed after all she’d been through. He looked at Greer. “Panic attacks? How long has she been having panic attacks?”
“I have no idea. She’s never mentioned it.” Greer ran a hand across her forehead. “They usually have a trigger.”
“We were all in there. She seemed fine at first.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Damn, it would help to know what triggered it.”
“I’m afraid that would be me,” a deep voice behind them cut in.
Quinn turned and saw the man from the diner Delaney had practically nailed to the wall for attempting to pay his bill. “And you are?”
“Major Gary Roubillard. Delaney and I were deployed together, although I only rotated in a week before her injury.” He moved the brim of his ball cap up and then down again. “Look, I’m sorry. A friend at Walter Reed told me she was here on convalescent leave. I didn’t know she had amnesia.”
“Oh! You’re Doc Gary, the one who called to tell me about Delaney.” Greer elbowed Quinn. “He’s the doctor who took care of Delaney until she shipped out to Germany. She mentioned you in a few of her emails home. I’m Greer, her sister.”
Quinn’s gaze sharpened and he reached out to shake hands. “Quinn Cates, a friend.”
Doc Gary returned the handshake. “I’m on leave for a family wedding and thought I’d stop in and say hello. I wouldn’t have come if I knew I’d trigger a panic attack.”
“Did she have panic attacks in Afghanistan?” Quinn asked.
“Not when I was there. Steady as a rock, but most trauma nurses are.” He shook his head. “The thing is, she lost two close friends in the explosion.”
Quinn and Greer looked at each other. That one little missing piece of the puzzle explained a lot. That could definitely explain why she had no memory of the explosion or the days surrounding it. Her brain couldn’t deal with losing people close to her so it was blocking the painful memories.
“I don’t want to invade her privacy, but I want to reassure you, with therapy and support, the recovery outlook for dissociative amnesia is very good.”
“Thank you.” Greer rested her hand on Doc Gary’s forearm. “It’s encouraging to hear that.”
“Look, my sister’s getting married in Charleston tomorrow, and I’m already running late for the rehearsal, but . . .” Gary’s phone sounded and he pulled it out to read a text. He groaned. “I’ve got to get going, or my ass is history. I’d like to swing through on my way back. I’ve got some letters from some of her friends I’ve been ordered to deliver.”
Greer frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea after today. . . .”
“Understood. I’ll come find one of you and leave them in your safekeeping until she’s ready. She won’t even have to see my ugly mug.”
“Appreciate it.” Quinn nodded and exchanged phone numbers with him. He and Greer stood on the sidewalk as the scratched and sun-faded rental car tossed gravel on its way out of the lot.
Chapter Nineteen
“Mama Cates, I appreciate your help, but I’m not a shopper. I don’t have a clue about fashion or coordinating. To be honest, what I wear isn’t a top priority right now.”
“And that’s fine, Delaney. That’s where I come in. Your job today is to relax. You don’t need to know how to shop or coordinate. I’ve got that covered. And with all the boys I’ve raised it’ll be a real treat for me to shop for a girl.”
“Well, about that . . . I don’t do pink. Or ruffles. Or big jewelry. Or makeup. Obviously, high heels are out. And miniskirts. No girly-girl clothes.” Delaney’s list practically begged Mama Cates to wave the white flag and give up.
Mama Cates laughed and patted Delaney’s hand. “Relax. We can work around all of that—and anything else you come up with. Don’t let the shopping stress you. I promise we’ll make it quick. No more than one hour.”
“Okay, yeah. I’ve marched for an hour in over hundred-degree weather in the desert.” Delaney nodded her head. “I can make it through an hour of shopping.”
“And then we’ll pamper ourselves,” Mama Cates added.
Delaney held back her moan and eye roll. Barely. “Pamper how?”
“Haircuts, facials, manicures. Oh, now don’t groan. You might even have fun.”
Delaney let out a big sigh. She doubted she’d have fun, but she did appreciate how sweet it was for Quinn’s mother to take her shopping. Awkward, but sweet. She could try not to be a pain in the ass for two hours, right? “I can do this. For the next hour, I was born to shop. I am a shopping machine.”
Mama Cates laughed as she pulled into the parking spot. “Delaney, love, you sound like you’re talking yourself into a dangerous task. I know you mean well, but when we’re in Macy’s, you and I will battle over clothes. It’s only fair to warn you, I’m a wily tactician and I will win.”
Forty-five minutes later, Delaney was ready to surrender. Mama Cates took shopping seriously, with a capital S. She was so sweet the salespeople in Macy’s happily became her willing accomplices.
Delaney was hunkered down in a dressing room while clothes magically appeared over and under the door. Jeans, tops, blouses, dress pants, bras, workout clothes . . . slinky nightgowns?
“Mama C—I don’t need more workout clothes,” Delaney called over the door.
“That set of baggy sweats you’re wearing would fit Quinlan. Trust me. You need new workout clothes.”
“I don’t need slinky nightgowns.”
“Every woman needs slinky nightgowns.”
“I at least want to pick out my own underwear.”
“Of course you can help, dear.”
Delaney looked at the time, hoping the hour was up. Fifteen minutes to go? Didn’t Mama Cates realize this was cruel and unusual punishment? “Mama C? Why do I need a pair of black satin dress pants? And this slippery aqua top thingy?”
“Every woman needs sexy date-night outfits,” Mama Cates assured her.
“I don’t. I really don’t.” Delaney looked dispassionately at the reflection of the satin pants softly moving with her body.
“What about the bachelorette auction coming up? You and I both know it’s for a great cause. You’ll have to attend that.”
“What? No, I don’t think—”
“Delaney, the auction is to raise money for the children of fallen police officers. Think of the children. You need the evening outfit.”
Sitting down on the small corner seat, struggling in frustration to get another pair of pants off, Delaney gave up and let her head drop agai
nst the mirror. “Mama Cates?” she called in a weak, demoralized voice. “This is me surrendering. I’m done. I can’t try on any more. And . . . and my leg is starting to hurt real bad.” Delaney made a face at herself in the mirror, knowing she was exaggerating and only feeling a little bad about it.
“So, we’re done. We’ll just peek at the underclothes on our way to the cashier. Then it’s on to the pampering, where you can rest up your leg before we trudge out to the car with our heavy bags. I’m sure we could rent a wheelchair from the information kiosk if the rest doesn’t help.”
“Damn it. How did you know?” Delaney asked, feeling no shame, just outmaneuvered as she slipped her baggy sweats back on with a sigh of relief.
“I can smell a fib when I hear it,” Mama Cates said. “You get points for trying, but I’m the mother of five boys and believe me when I tell you I’ve heard them all.”
Delaney opened the door of the dressing room in sagging relief. She gathered up the clothes Mama Cates had decreed she needed and headed out, limping a little more than when she had gone in. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing for me here, Mama C. I do. I just hate shopping. Always have. I hated it before I lost my foot, but now it’s just another reminder of how much my life has changed. It’s hard to accept.”
“Well, Delaney, having watched you grow up, I’d have to say you’re one of the strongest people I know. You’re smart, too. Too smart to think the pity angle will get you out of the one hour of pampering.”
“Damn it, Mama Cates.” Delaney gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Was the extra limp too much? Should I have teared up? You’re a stubborn woman, Mama C. Now I know where Quinn gets it from.”