A Broken Soul (The Pembrooke Series Book 3)

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A Broken Soul (The Pembrooke Series Book 3) Page 3

by Prince, Jessica


  “Uh… okay,” she dragged out, her face pinched in confusion and a little bit of anger. “I’m sorry, but… have I done something to offend you?”

  “Nope.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets, keeping my tone flat as I added, “Just got things to do is all.”

  She looked like she wanted to push, possibly go off on me for being a dick. Instead, she sighed and walked around the back of the front desk, taking a seat in the chair before pulling open a drawer and grabbing a packet of papers. “Fine. Just fill this out and we’ll get you on your way, since you’re so busy.” There was no missing the sarcasm in her tone, she made it loud and clear, and a large part of me respected the hell out of her for letting me know she wasn’t happy to be taking my shit. “The class schedules and payment information is all listed on the last page. You can leave it on the ledge when you’re done.”

  With that, she stood and headed down the hallway, only pausing long enough to touch Sophia’s shoulder and say something that made my little girl laugh. Then she was gone, leaving me feeling guilty for how I’d acted and relieved all at the same time.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  Lilly

  WELL THAT WENT well, I thought sarcastically as I collapsed down into my office chair, all the while wondering what the hell Quinn Mallick’s problem was. We’d been living in the same town for two years now, and that was probably the first conversation we’d ever had. And I was pretty sure it was safe to say it hadn’t gone all that well.

  It was like talking to a robot. He remained completely emotionless the entire time he looked at me. Dull, lifeless, like he wanted to be anywhere else at that very moment, and having to speak to me in order to enroll his daughter in dance classes was about as much fun for him as a root canal. The only good part of the entire thing was getting to talk with his lively daughter, Sophia. She was absolutely adorable. So unlike her father.

  When I wasn’t rambling, I was trying to think of anything I could have possibly done to offend the guy, to the point I was almost obsessing over it.

  Hell, who was I kidding? I was obsessing over it. That was why, ten minutes after Quinn left, I was still wracking my brain trying to figure out what wrong I’d done to him in the very limited contact we’d had over the years.

  I was so deep in thought that when my cellphone rang on my desk the sound caused me to jump. Rolling my eyes at my own ridiculousness, I snatched my phone up and smiled when I saw the name on the screen.

  “Bestie!” I cried out. “I miss you so much!” More than she probably could imagine. Struggling with the knowledge of what was happening to my father all by myself was driving me out of my mind. I was bouncing back and forth between crying my eyes out and being mad at the world at the flip of a switch.

  “I miss you too!” Eliza shouted in return. “What are you doing right now? You busy?”

  I leaned back in my chair and crossed my ankles on the scarred wooden top of my desk. “Not unless sitting in my office with my feet kicked up counts as being busy.”

  Her laughter rang through the line and made me smile. “It doesn’t. But it’s good you’re sitting down. I have some news.”

  I shot up straight, dropping my feet to the floor. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant!”

  “How the hell did you guess that from me saying I had news? Good Lord! You’re like a mind-reading ninja!”

  “So it’s true?” I squealed loudly. “You’re preggers?” I began dancing around the office excitedly. If there’d been anyone out in the lobby to witness, they probably would have thought I was having a seizure. “How far along are you?”

  “Well…” she dragged out. “I’m actually thirteen weeks.”

  “Thirteen weeks?!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls. “And I’m just finding out now?!”

  “Calm down, crazy,” she chuckled. “You were my first phone call. I haven’t even called my dad yet. We wanted to wait until we were firmly in the safe zone. It’s our first baby, you know? We talked about it and decided to wait until I was out of the first trimester.”

  I stopped and gave that some thought. “Okay, I can see your point. And the fact that I was the very first call means you’re totally forgiven.”

  “Just don’t tell my dad you found out first.”

  I crossed my heart and held my index and middle finger in the air. Even though she couldn’t see me, I knew she knew I was doing it. “Swear on my life. God, Eliza, I can’t believe you’re gonna have a baby! I’m so happy for you. I wish I was there to celebrate.”

  “Well, that just means you’re going to have to get your tight little butt to Denver so you can see the bump I’m already sporting!”

  I giggled happily. It was amazing how just one call from my best friend could shine a light on my world when it started growing darker. “You got a deal. I’ll look at my calendar and see when I’m available to come up for a weekend.”

  “And I can take you to one of Ethan’s games. Maybe we can get you hooked up with one of his hot teammates. And stop rolling your eyes,” she finished on a scold, knowing damn good and well that was what I was doing at that very moment.

  “Yes to the game, no to any blind dates you might be considering in my future.”

  “Oh come on!” she whined. “These guys are hot, Lil! I mean like, seriously hot—”

  All of a sudden Ethan’s voice could be heard in the background. “Standing right here, baby.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean. They’re seriously hot for guys not as good looking as my husband.”

  I burst into laughter before saying, “Nice save.”

  “I’m clever like a fox,” she giggled. “So you’ll plan to come up here soon?”

  “Definitely. I’ll call you as soon as I know what weekend is best.”

  “I can’t wait. So, what are you up to for the rest of the evening?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged as I sat back down in my chair, thinking that my lack of plans for the evening was more than a little pathetic for a woman my age. “I’ll probably pick up some wine from Mabel’s and make myself dinner. I found one of your recipes the other day and it sounded really good. Figured I’d give it a shot.”

  “Oh no,” Eliza groaned from the other end. “Stay out of the kitchen, unless you’re planning on using the microwave.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked in affront.

  “It means you’re a terrible cook, and don’t pretend it’s not true.”

  She might have had a point. I wouldn’t be joining the ranks of Master Chef anytime soon, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t figure my way out around a kitchen. “I’m not that bad,” I argued. “I can follow a damn recipe, Eliza. How hard can it be? Besides, there’s no way I’m as terrible as Harlow.”

  “No. You’re worse. Harlow’s the one that will make meals that’ll give people dysentery, but you’re the one who’ll burn the house to the ground.”

  “That’s not true!” It might have been a little true. “That one time was an accident! And the fire wasn’t that big. You’re exaggerating.”

  “Stay out of the kitchen,” she answered dryly.

  I didn’t make any promises before ending the phone call. I was going to make dinner for myself, and once I successfully finished, I was going to text her pictures to rub it in her face.

  I’d show her.

  OKAY SO MAYBE I wasn’t going to show her after all.

  Coughing to clear some of the smoke from my lungs, I watched on in embarrassment as the firefighters began descending the stairs that led from my apartment into the back alley behind the café and my dance school.

  Honestly, I probably could have gotten the fire out myself, it wasn’t that big, but I’d freaked when I saw the flames and immediately called 911.

  “Well, the fire’s out. It was small so there was no real damage, just some nasty smoke. You’ll probably have to air the place out for a while.” Quinn stated as he propped his hands on his hips, staring me down. I tried not
to notice how sexy he looked in his tight navy fire department t-shirt and bunker pants, but damn it, it was hard! The man might be an android, but he was still fine as hell. Even with that disapproving scowl on his face.

  “Thanks,” I offered in a small voice.

  “You got lucky. It could have been a lot worse.”

  Rolling my eyes indignantly at his tone of voice, a tone my own father had used on me many times, the embarrassment of my situation started to wear off, and I started to get pissed. “You know, the term self-cleaning oven is really misleading,” I stated in an effort to defend myself. “Calling something self-cleaning when you’re actually supposed to clean it first is just asking for trouble! I have half a mind to write a nasty letter to Maytag and express my displeasure. Oh! And while we’re on the subject—”

  “We’re on a subject? I thought you were just ranting.”

  I ignored Quinn’s dig and carried on, because yes, I was ranting. And once I started there was no stopping it. “What’s the deal with dishwashers, huh? Dish. Washer. You’d think that would mean it cleans your dishes, right? But noooo. You actually have to scrub all food particles off first or they come out with dried-up crud on them. I’m better off just hiring a person to clean my oven and dishes since the thousand dollar machines meant to clean stuff don’t actually clean!”

  I may have been a little out of breath by the time I finished, and I may have garnered an audience from the other firefighters standing in the alley, but the only thing I could focus on at that very moment was the fact that Quinn was watching me, his arms crossed over his chest, with a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

  “You finished?” he asked a few seconds later.

  I looked up at the dark sky and gave it some thought. “Yes. Since washing machines and dryers actually do what they claim to do, I think I’m finished.”

  And then he went and shocked the hell out of me by throwing his head back with a loud bark of laughter.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed out, watching the magnificence that was Quinn laughing. The man was hot as sin on any given day, but add in a laugh and panties all over Pembrooke were at risk of combusting.

  “What?” he asked once he was finished, a smile still tilting his full lips upward. It was a great smile, even if it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

  “You just laughed.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “I tend to do that when something’s funny or totally ridiculous.”

  “I don’t think I want to know which one of those I am,” I cringed.

  That smile of his inched a bit closer to his eyes. “You’re funny.”

  “Oh,” I drew out sarcastically. “You see, I was confused, because earlier today I thought you were a robot. You know, devoid of all facial expressions other than complete disinterest?” I crossed my own arms over my chest, mimicking his stance. “I’m sure you could understand my confusion.”

  He at least had the decency to look ashamed as he rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, I wasn’t really at my best earlier. I’m sorry about that.”

  At least he apologized, I thought to myself. “Well, you’re forgiven… if you promise me that you’ll keep tonight’s little…” I waved my hand in the direction of my smoky apartment, “…accident from Eliza. I swear to God, that woman lives to tell me I told you so.”

  Quinn chuckled again, and the sound of it sent a zing of pleasure through me. “Scout’s honor,” he returned, holding up three fingers.

  “Thanks.” I smiled and reached a hand out in front of me for him to shake. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot earlier. I know we’ve technically known each other for a couple years now, but we haven’t actually talked. I’m Lilly Mathewson. It’s nice to officially meet you… in spite of the circumstances.”

  “Quinn Mallick.” His large hand engulfed mine, sending a shot of warmth up my arm. Oh, this man was potent. “Nice to meet you as well.”

  We both went silent as we stared at each other, hands still clasped together in a slow shake. My heart kicked up at what I could have sworn was a moment between us, but before I could be sure a loud voice called out, breaking through whatever was happening. “Yo, Mallick!” We both turned to see that the rest of the crew was loaded up. “We gotta go, man.”

  “Coming.” Quinn turned back to me and gave me that chin lift that only guys were capable of pulling off. “You should be good to go back inside, just open up the windows.” He said it so casually that I suddenly got the sense that the fizzle I’d just felt between us was all in my head. “Be safe, Lilly.”

  “Yeah… you too.”

  “And maybe no more cooking for… well, forever,” he called over his shoulder as he reached the fire engine, shooting me a wink before he climbed in and shut the door.

  Yep. Definitely potent.

  Quinn

  “MORNING,” I ANNOUNCED as I pushed through the back door of my parents’ house. The welcoming smell of coffee a pleasant hit to my senses. They sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast as I beelined for the coffee machine. I stopped to pat my dad’s shoulder and give Mom a kiss on the cheek, but if I didn’t get some caffeine in my system soon, I was going to pass out where I stood.

  “Long night?” Dad asked, as I took my first fortifying sip.

  I gave him a bland look that was all the answer he needed. “Nothing too serious, but enough to keep us from getting any sleep.”

  Mom stood up and patted my cheek. “My poor boy. Why don’t you let me make you something to eat really quick?” I was just about to tell her it wasn’t necessary as she started fussing around, but before I could get the words out, my stomach let loose a loud rumble.

  “Sophia awake yet?” I asked, as I finished off my coffee and poured myself another.

  “Yep,” Mom answered. “She’s getting a shower.”

  That gave me about ten minutes to caffeinate and get some food in my belly before I had to take her to school. “How was she? She behave all right?”

  “Perfect little angel,” Dad replied with a smile on his face. As far as my father was concerned, Sophia could burn the house to the ground and she’d still be perfect in his eyes. She had her Papaw wrapped around her little finger. She could do no wrong. It was hilarious to see Bill Mallick, the man who’d been known as a powerhouse within the Pembrooke Fire Department, brought to heel by a tiny slip of a girl, but my father wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Knowing that about him, I turned to my mother for an honest answer. She gave me a knowing grin. “She was fine, dear.” She set two slices of French toast and a side of bacon in front of me and took her seat once again. “But she woke up in the middle of the night again.” Here we go, I thought, knowing exactly what was coming. “Sweetheart. You really need to stop letting her get into bed with you.” I gave her a look that screamed I don’t want to hear it.

  “Eve,” my father spoke in a warning tone, but my mother wouldn’t be deterred.

  “What?” she shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying, a child her age should be sleeping in her own bed through the night. There’s no reason for her to—”

  I dropped my fork against the plate, causing a loud clang that startled my mother into stopping. Frustration began to course through me at the familiar, and unwanted, conversation. I knew she meant well, my mother didn’t have a cruel or vindictive bone in her body, but well-meaning or not, I was getting tired of being told how to parent my own daughter.

  It was times like these that made me miss Addy even more. The constant ache that lingered in every bone grew more acute. She always knew what to do when it came to being a parent. In the three years she had with Sophia, never once did I see her doubt herself, or question her parenting methods. She was so strong, so self-assured. Christ, I missed her. Living without her was like missing a limb. And days like this one, days that seemed to call out my inadequacies as a parent, only made me angrier at life for what it had taken away from me.

  “She’s six years old,” I snapped.
“She’s lost her mother and has nightmares that wake her up in the middle of the night. I really don’t give a shit what a child her age should or shouldn’t be doing. If it helps her to climb in bed with me, then everyone else can just fuck right the hell off.”

  “Quinn!” Mom shot back at the same time my father turned that warning tone on me. “Watch how you speak to your mother, son.”

  I propped my elbows on the table and dropped my head in my hands, giving my face a good scrub before looking back at my mother. Guilt at having taken my anger out on her rested heavy on me when I saw the disappointment in their eyes. “I’m sorry,” I sighed, reaching over to place my hand on top of hers.

  She turned her palm over and wrapped her fingers around mine. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

  That was just one of the many thing I loved about my parents, one of the many things that made the decision to move Sophia back to Pembrooke so easy. They were two of the most forgiving people I’d ever met.

  “So,” she released my hand and went back to her coffee mug, “Soph tells us that you signed her up for ballet classes?”

  I shoveled the last bit of breakfast in my mouth and chased it with a gulp of coffee as I nodded my head, all the while thinking that I’d be seeing Lilly again. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, mainly because a part of me — too large a part — was excited about the thought of it.

  Just remembering back to the look on her face that day at the dance school made my chest tighten painfully. I’d acted like such an asshole, and I hated that I put that look on her face. My head was so twisted when it came to Lilly, because I knew I should have just taken that as my opportunity to keep my distance, but when we’d been called to her apartment later that night, I couldn’t help but laugh when she’d rambled on about self-cleaning ovens and dishwashers. I knew I was walking a fine line, but the way she had smiled when I laughed made it impossible to act like a dick.

 

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