by K. S. Thomas
Which means there’s someone I need to talk to. Someone, who needs to know more about me and how I feel about his daughter.
Mr. Quincy is outside, cleaning the grill. I kind of like that his idea of celebrating is firing up the barbeque. Reminds me of my dad. Family meant everything to him and bringing everyone together over food he prepared was one way he showed it.
“Sir.” I nod as I step outside to join him.
“Please, I’m wearing an apron that looks like a naked body builder with a tuff of pink fluff covering my crotch. I hardly think now is the time to be so formal.” He chuckles and I wonder how long it’s been since he’s done that. Really, truly laughed because he felt happy and carefree enough to do it. “Dave will do.”
“Dave it is then.” I step up beside him. “Can I give you a hand with anything here?”
He tips his head at the cooler sitting on the picnic bench. “You could grab me a bottle. And get one for yourself while you’re at it.”
I immediately do as he says. I’m not a big drinker, but a beer to take the edge off my nerves right now doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. I pop the top off his bottle and hand it to him.
“Thanks.” He takes a swig. “So, I’m assuming you didn’t come out here just to watch me clean the grill.”
“No, sir,” I stutter, “I mean, Dave.” Fuck me. Why am I having a fucking meltdown about this? He’s not even making it hard on me. “Thing is,” I put the bottle down. Maybe a clear head is the better way to go. “I know I’m probably not the man you had in mind for your daughter. There’s the age difference. And, I’ve been married and divorced, not to mention, I’m in my thirties and still haven’t figured out what to do with my life other than handle the business of those no longer around to handle it for themselves.” I glance down at my rolled up sleeves and the ink covering every inch of my exposed skin. “I probably don’t make the best first impression, all things considered.”
I watch as Quinn’s dad steps away from the grill, taking my beer and heading over to take a seat at the patio table. I follow his lead, assuming he’s about to give his side of the story and why he has reservations about my relationship with his daughter.
“Riker, my wife tells me you’re a father.”
I nod. Although most people wouldn’t consider me one anymore, I sort of appreciate that he still does. “I’m not technically able to claim that title anymore. But I still feel like one. I don’t know how to turn that off.”
“It can’t be turned off. Once that love starts, it flows freely until the day you die. It’s not like any other kind of love. It can’t be changed or stopped or affected in any way. It’s true. It’s unconditional and often, it’s heartbreaking.” He balances his bottle on its rim thoughtfully. “My daughters have endured more heartache than most. During the years young adults are meant to be exploring the various avenues available to them, making fools of themselves and enjoying the freedom to do so, my girls weren’t so lucky.” His eyes move to be level with mine. “As a father, I’ve felt it all. Everything they feel, I feel, too.” He smiles. “I know my daughter is in love with you, Riker. And whatever preconceived notions you have about my expectations of the man who would hold her heart one day, I didn’t have a single one you haven’t met. You showed up here today to defend her. To stand by her. I can’t think of a better first impression than that.”
I laugh uncomfortably. “Thank you. That really means a lot to me. That you would say that. I love her, too. More than I thought I could love anyone. And I want you to know I don’t intend to stand by her just today.”
He nods, then lifts his bottle to cheer and I meet it with mine, clinking the glass together loudly. “To Quinn.”
“To Quinn.” I grin like a total goof, all because I like the sound of my girl’s name when it comes out of my mouth. Knowing I have her father’s blessing to call her mine, means something to me. And I suddenly understand why Hannah and Sid never made it down the aisle without my mother. It wouldn’t stop me from marrying Quinn, but I get it now.
Satisfied with our little chat, her dad gets back to his feet and begins to undo his apron. “Now then, just to prove to you, that I am not only accepting of this relationship, but am happy to welcome you to the Quincy Clan, I’m going to let you wear this and man the grill.” He hands me his gear and winks. “But when Nate asks, tell him you had to arm-wrestle me for it.”
“What?” I laugh.
“He’ll believe that. And even if he doesn’t. He’s a blue collar guy. I can beat him if I have to.” Then he chuckles again and starts pulling Tupperware filled with marinated steaks out of the cooler while I start to light the grill and take charge of dinner, naked guy apron and all.
***
Quinn
I’m in my parent’s bedroom searching for an old puzzle of a unicorn I know my mother saved when my eye catches on one of the pictures on her dresser. It’s of me and Sophie. Only Sophie was just a baby and I was a completely different person. I’m smiling in the picture. I remember exactly when it was taken. Sophie had just learned to crawl and I’d taken full credit for it because I’d been the only one silly enough to get on the floor and lead by example. That’s how I was back then. Silly. Fun.
I’d never doubted for even a second that Sophie would grow up calling me her favorite aunt. I’d had visions of her coming to me to talk about boys and clothes and every other trivial yet monumental thing a teenage girl needs to chat about for hours on end. I’d planned on being the one she came to. And then I left. And the aunt who came back was never going to be worthy of those moments.
Sophie would never remember the aunt she had back then. She’d never know how many hours I spent giggling with her. How often I’d played peek a boo, or the countless times I sang the ants go marching round and round because it was the only thing that kept her from crying while riding in the car. All she knew now was the serious solemn aunt who hardly ever spoke to her. The aunt who had moments of joy, but more often than not opted to hole up in her room by herself.
I don’t want to be that aunt anymore. I want to be the one she can count on. The one she can come to. And I want to be fun again. I’m ready to be fun again. And not just for Sophie’s sake. For my own.
“Hey.” Riker’s standing in the doorway. He’s wearing my father’s apron.
“Hey yourself, stud.” I walk over and tug at the naked guy covering his body. “What’s happening here?”
“Your dad likes me.” He’s pleased with himself. “I’m in charge of the grill.”
“Um, the grill is out in the yard.” I point out of the room down the hall.
He gives me a look like he doesn’t appreciate my insinuating he’s an idiot. “Yeah, I’m pretty clear on that. He sent me in here to get you.”
“Oh.” I reach both arms around him. “Well, now that you’ve got me what would you like to do with me?”
“Nothing I can do in your parents’ bedroom. Now back up before this pink ball of cotton covering my crotch starts to move into an awkward position.”
I laugh. It feels good. All of this feels good.
“So, what happens next?” I ask as I loop my arm into his and we start walking down the hall.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you want to have happen.” He stops before we enter the living room and join everyone else.
“I just want to be with you.” I reach up onto my tip-toes to reach his lips. “But before you agree, there’s something else. Something I need to tell you. One last truth I owe you.”
“Well, let’s hear it,” he murmurs and I can’t help but smile.
“It’s pretty major,” I warn, still moving my mouth over his while I whisper.
“With you, everything always is.” And I can feel his lips twitch playfully. “Now stop stalling and just say it.”
So I do.
“I love you, Riker Shepherdson.”
Epilogue
Quinn
&n
bsp; It’s been five years since Judge Hanson dismissed the case against me. Five years since I was set free. Five years since I said the words I love you to the man who has since become my husband.
As soon as Kirsten was able to stop writing checks to the Quinn’s Legal Defense Charity, she found herself a new cause to sink her money into. Mine. Barks Against Battery has grown tremendously in the last few years, successfully matching nearly five thousand women with adoptable dogs in seven states, and we continue to expand every day. I no longer feel like I need to seek redemption for the things I did, but I know I’ll never be satisfied when it comes to the number of women out there I want to reach before they find themselves in the same place I was. Or worse.
Riker has found his calling as well. He still runs the family business, but the bulk of his time is spent on the ranch where he and Sid have moved the focus away from lessons and onto Equine therapy. I think it’s the best decision he’s ever made for himself. Nox still refuses to be cared for by anyone but him, but I think it’s more out of spite than anything else. And, I’ve even started riding again.
“You ready to get out of here and get some dinner?” I watch him standing in the stall eye to eye with the black stallion he still claims to hate.
“Yep.” We still eat take out more often than not. “Joe’s tonight?” He comes out into the aisle and we start walking, his hand sliding into mine automatically.
“Works for me.” I whistle for Harley and he comes cruising around the corner from wherever he was at. He’s getting older and his arthritis slows him down more than it used to, but his spirit is still as young and free as it ever was.
When we get home, we take our dinner out onto the back deck. We’ve moved since the early days in his garage apartment, but our place is still tiny compared to the mansion he used to live in. All either of us really cared about was being on the ocean and that we are.
“Kirsten call you about Nate’s birthday party?” he asks in between bites.
“Yeah. It’s supposed to be a big surprise.” I toss a fry to Harley. “But Sophie called right after she hung up and said Nate already knows.”
He laughs. “You going to tell Kirsten?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Waiting to see if she has some tedious job for me to do like last year when she made me the valet.” It had its upside too, though. I didn’t have to deal with any strangers for more than thirty seconds at a time. I’m not as cranky as I used to be, but I’m still not what you might call a people person.
“Well, you better figure it out fast because she’s making me the decoy. Apparently, I’m supposed to take him out for the day, and if I don’t have to stress about the possibilities of having to dig out my dad’s old golfing gear, I wouldn’t mind knowing now.”
I smile. “I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you.” He moves the take-out boxes out of the way and leans over the table. “Now then, how about dessert?”
“What did you have in mind?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. A lot has changed over the years, but one thing is exactly the same way it’s always been. We still can’t seem to get enough of one another.
He doesn’t answer out loud, but I follow his eyes with mine and land on the railing facing the ocean.
“Dessert with a view. I like it.”
He chuckles and my stomach still flips back and forth from the deep sound of it.
He leans forward, about to kiss me when he stops short. “You hear that?” He pulls back, leaning his head toward the house. “I think it’s your phone.”
I reach for his shirt and bring him toward me again. “So what?”
He smirks, and his lips softly sweep mine. And then he stops once more. “Seriously. I hear it again. Someone is trying to get ahold of you.”
“It’s probably just Kirsten,” I whine.
He laughs. “Well, then you should definitely go answer it. We both know she won’t stop until you do.”
I groan. “Ugh. Fine. But don’t you move!” I untangle myself from him and hurry inside to find my phone.
When I finally locate it, it’s not ringing anymore, but I have seven missed calls from Devyn. Before I even have a chance to hit return on my screen, she’s making her eight attempt.
“What the hell is going on?” I’m instantly freaked out. Devyn doesn’t call back to back unless it’s serious. She’s no Kirsten.
“I should ask you the same thing. Answer your damn phone, woman!” She sounds out of breath, like she’s on the move. “I have an opportunity for you, but you have to decide right now if you want it or not.”
“What?” I start walking back out to the deck. “What are you talking about?”
“A baby.”
Silence.
My mind draws a complete blank and I can’t think or move, or breathe, for several seconds.
“A what?”
“A baby. One of the lawyer’s in my firm was handling a private adoption. A beautiful baby girl was born three hours ago. She’s healthy and perfect, but at the last minute the adoptive parents backed out. And now... Her mom can’t keep her. And she’s too emotionally fried to go through the whole process again right now, so DCF will have to be called. Unless...”
Riker is standing right in front of me. His hands are softly moving across my skin, his face full of concern, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“Unless what?” I don’t want to assume. I definitely don’t want to guess.
“Unless you guys want her. I already called Judge Hanson. She’ll sign off on the adoption herself. I’ll handle everything else. No one could get in the way of this.”
I’m a felon. I was convicted of manslaughter. A violent crime. I’m not exactly a prime candidate for adoption agencies looking for potential parents, and forget the foster system. Honestly, Riker and I’d given up hope we’d ever be more than just us.
“You’re sure?” I breathe into the phone. “They would let me be her mother?”
“I promise. I wouldn’t be calling you if I had any doubts about this. I know what it means to you. What it means to both of you. Trust me.”
I wipe my eyes. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt the wetness on my fingers. “I do trust you. Tell them we want her. Tell them, we can’t wait to meet her. Tell them, we’re on our way. Tell them, thank you. Thank you. Thank you! Oh my God, Devyn. Thank you.”
“I’ll tell them.” Her voice is just as choked up as mine is. “Call me when you land. I’ll pick you up.”
She hangs up and I just stand there. Shaking. I still can’t believe this is happening.
“Where are we going? What is happening? Jesus, Quinn, you look like you’re having a fucking seizure.” Riker pulls me to his chest and holds me tight, trying to still my body. “Should I be panicking?”
“No.” My teeth are chattering from the adrenaline surging through me. For the first time ever, I’m enjoying the experience. “You should be packing. We have to get to the airport. ASAP.” I break away from him far enough to look him in the eye. “Because our daughter is waiting to be picked up from the hospital.”
Riker’s face twitches like it can’t decide how to react to the news. “What?”
I can relate. I’m still processing all of this myself. “There’s a baby. In California. For us.” Forming sentences has never been so challenging in all my life. “You and me. We’re going to be parents.”
And then, he totally loses it. His eyes get glossy and he has to clear his throat several times, while he kisses me over and over until both of us are out of breath, sobbing, crying messes.
Still overwhelmed with emotion, he presses his forehead to mine and quietly says, “Let’s go get our daughter.”
“Hannah,” I whisper, “Her name is Hannah. Hannah Hope Shepherdson.”
THE END.
A Note From The Author
Thank you so much for going on Quinn’s journey with me. While her story is not real, there are countless stories and women who are. Please consider
joining me in supporting charities such as White Lion Against Domestic Violence (http://www.whitelionadv.com/) in hopes of giving them a Happy Ending.
**A percentage of the proceeds from sales of this book will go to White Lion Against Domestic Violence, as well as other local charities supporting women and children in need. **
Author K.S. Thomas
Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar....oh...and I write some ;-)
Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name...If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate...or coffee...if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.
A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.
I happily reside in sunny Florida (for now) and can be contacted via my blog, my website or the following social media sites ~
Facebook
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Books by K.S. Thomas include ~
I Call Him Brady
Save The Date
Lost Avalon (A Finding Nolan Novel)
Salty
Country Girls
Blood Bound
Drive
This Christmas
Lucky In Love