A Broken Soul (The Pembrooke Series Book 3)

by Prince, Jessica

  He then let me go and took a step back, rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  That did not sit well… at all. And despite my fear of overstepping, I found anger spiking and myself saying, “Maybe I would understand, if you talked to me about it.”

  He sighed and kept his gaze diverted down. “It’s not something I want to discuss, okay? When I’m with you, I want to be with you. I don’t want to have to think about all the shit swirling around in my life.”

  “But you know I’m here, right? If you ever need to talk?” I stepped close and took his hands in mine. “That’s what you’re supposed to do with people you care about. You talk to them and they listen. You can’t push the real world out all the time, Quinn.”

  “I can goddamned well try,” he grumbled, shaking my hands loose and moving to the fridge. He yanked it open, pulled a beer out, popped the cap off, and chugged. Once he was done, his eyes came back to me, and his voice sounded devoid of all emotion when he said, “It’s late. You should probably get home.”

  Yep, I’d definitely pushed too hard. But was it really too much to ask that he talk to me? I wanted to argue. I wanted to get in his face and tell him that this wasn’t how relationships worked, that it wasn’t healthy. But I didn’t. Not because I was scared of losing him, but because I knew then just how pointless it would be. And I was tired of beating my head against a brick wall.

  Instead of arguing, I nodded and went for my purse where it rested hooked on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Yeah. You’re right. I should go.”

  I moved to step past him, concentrating on the floor at my feet as I walked, when his hand shot out and caught me around my arm. “Lilly, I’m sorry.”

  I lifted my head just enough to look at him through my lashes and offered up a tiny smile. “It’s fine, Quinn. I get it, really. Don’t worry about it.”

  Uncertainty flickered through his eyes as he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  The uncertainty remained, and I understood why with his next question. “Will you answer?”

  God, he was breaking my heart. “Yes, Quinn,” I whispered. “I’ll answer. Because in spite of everything, I really do care about you. Nothing’s going to change that.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and lifted, placing a chaste kiss against his lips. Then I walked out of the kitchen, through the house, and out the front door. I wasn’t sure who I was madder at… me for pushing too hard when I knew better.

  Or Quinn for keeping that cold, miserable distance between us.

  Lilly

  I STOOD IN my mother’s kitchen chopping onions and celery for the cornbread dressing — that was the extent of what my mother would allow me to do — while Mom and her sister, Aunt Jenny, worked on different side dishes. The house was full of family, many of them having traveled the distance to Jackson Hole to spend the holiday with my father, knowing it would more than likely be his last.

  It was great to have everyone under the same roof again, but the underlying reason as to why sat in the back of everyone’s minds, not really allowing for a totally festive Thanksgiving.

  The football game was on in the living room, and every few minutes, masculine shouts could be heard, either from triumph or disappointment. From the sounds of the yells that just reverberated through the kitchen, they weren’t too happy with whatever just happened on the screen.

  I turned in the direction of the door and smiled, loving how normal everything seemed.

  “Well, I’ll tell you one thing,” Aunt Jenny started, “Hank and Keith better be prepared to scrub these dishes spotless when we’re done eating,” she said about her husband and grown son. “I’m not slaving away, making this meal for them so they can just sit on their butts and watch football all day.”

  My mother laughed softly from her place at the stove. “Jenn, in the twenty years Keith’s been born, and the thirty you’ve been married to Hank, when have you ever known those two to leave you a dirty kitchen when you’ve spent the day cooking?”

  Aunt Jenny paused and looked up, pondering Mom’s question. “You’re right, Lizzy. I’ve trained them well.”

  We all laughed just as my cellphone rang from my back pocket. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and pulled it out. Quinn’s name shone up at me from the screen. True to his word, he’d called yesterday after the little drama we’d had the night before. I could tell he was still concerned about my mindset, but I was doing everything I could to put him at ease.

  Yes, I was still unsettled by how stagnant our relationship seemed to be, however, I couldn’t help but to hope Quinn would finally let go of the past enough to let me in.

  “Be back in a sec,” I told my mom and Aunt. I headed out the back door for some privacy, too eager to take the call to worry about bundling up against the cold temperature outside. I engaged the call and brought the phone to my ear. “Hey,” I said softly, a smile splitting my face.

  His deep, rumbly voice carried through the line. “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving. How are you? Did Sophia get to Seattle safely?”

  He sighed into my ear, and I knew he still wasn’t happy about sending his daughter to a different state for the holiday. “Yeah, got a call from her earlier this morning. She’s excited to be with her grandparents.”

  “Well that’s good,” I said, trying to give him a bit of comfort. “And it’s just two more days. She’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I know. You’re right. And she’s having a great time. I just hate being away from her.”

  My heart gave a small tug. “You’re a good dad.”

  I could hear the grin in his voice when he said, “Thanks sweetheart. So, what are you up to today?”

  I looked through the window into the kitchen to see Mom and Aunt Jenny chatting and laughing. My feet carried me along the back deck until I got a perfect view into the living room. Dad looked good… better than he had in weeks. It was like having a house full of people breathed life into him. He was happy.

  “I’m helping my mom and aunt cook. The men are camped out in front of the TV watching the game.”

  “Oh Lord, you’re in the kitchen?”

  I rolled my eyes toward the blue sky. “Ha ha, smart ass. You’ll be happy to know I’ve been relegated to chopping duty. What about you? Are you guys planning on making a turkey or anything?”

  “Nah. We tried that a couple years ago and got called out in the middle of cooking. By the time we got back the food was ruined.”

  I frowned, thinking about him and the rest of the guys not having anything to commemorate the day. “Well that kind of sucks.”

  “Part of the job,” he replied nonchalantly. “We’ve all gotten used to it. At least with us working Thanksgiving we won’t be on shift Christmas Day.”

  My mouth dropped open and a gasp trickled out. “You’ve had to work on Christmas?”

  He laughed through the phone at my outrage. “Fires and accidents happen every day, baby. Someone has to take care of them. Besides, Thanksgiving and Christmas are two of our biggest days. You get overeager husbands who want to fry a turkey but don’t have the first fucking clue how. Might be a disaster, but it leads to some pretty entertaining stories. And at least we don’t have time to think about not being with our families if we’re constantly busy.”

  “I guess you have a point,” I pouted, hating that he was alone and working on the holidays and didn’t even get to enjoy all the delicious food.

  “Aw,” he said teasingly. “You’re worried about me. That’s sweet.”

  I let out an inelegant snort. “Please. I’m not worried. Just don’t want you to be jealous that I’ll be in a hardcore tryptophan coma in a few hours and feel like you missed out.”

  His gravelly chuckle did crazy things to my insides. “Believe me, I’d much rather be curled up next to you with a turkey hangover than here. But then I remember that I get you to myself tomorrow, no i
nterruptions, makes it all worth it.”

  A quiver worked its way through my belly at the sinful tone of his voice, and I suddenly couldn’t wait for tomorrow. “Don’t turn me on when I have to spend the next few hours stuck in a kitchen with my mom and my aunt.”

  That got me another chuckle. “Well, don’t say something like that and turn me on when I have to go back into a room full of guys who’ll give me shit for sporting a hard-on.”

  I wouldn’t have giggled at the picture he painted if the thought of Quinn hard didn’t send a flood of arousal through my core.

  I must have let out a tiny moan, because he suddenly growled into the receiver. “Okay, I see I’m going to have to cut this conversation off here if you’re going to keep making sounds like that.”

  I giggled and shifted from foot to foot, the cold finally starting to seep into my bones. “I should get back inside anyway. Be safe, okay?”

  “Promise, baby. I’ll talk to you later.”

  We hung up, and I took a few more seconds to get my raging hormones back under control. I was just about to turn and head into the house when the back door opened and Dad walked through with my coat in his hands.

  “You’re going to catch your death out here, Lilly Flower.”

  I turned and slipped my arms into the coat he held open for me. “It’s not so bad.” I looked out at the expanse of snow-topped trees and mountains that provided a stunning view as far as the eye could see. “It’s so beautiful out here.”

  Dad threw his arm around me and pulled me into his side as we both stared out at the horizon. “Why do you think me and your mom refuse to live anywhere outside of Wyoming? Nothing but God’s country out here, baby girl. Beauty as far as the eye can see.”

  “I get it.” I nuzzled into him, taking in his familiar scent mixed with the fresh snow. “I’d never want to live anywhere else either.”

  “So…” he dragged out. “I’m taking it from that smile you had on your face when I came out here that you and your young man have found equal footing?”

  My head shot to the side, my eyes shooting up at him. He wore a grin on his face that told me he hadn’t forgotten our conversation from over a month ago. I hadn’t talked to my parents about Quinn since we started seeing each other. I felt like if I admitted it out loud, I’d somehow jinx it. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he remembered. I was his baby girl, and even sick he was still as protective as he’d always been.

  “We’re… working on it,” I answered slowly.

  He looked back out at the landscape. “Well, that’s better than nothing. What’s he up to today?”

  “He’s working. He’s a firefighter with the Pembrooke Fire Department so he’s on shift today.”

  “Honorable line of work,” Dad said.

  “Yeah, but it’s sad they have to miss out on days like today with their families.”

  Dad turned to me and grinned before guiding us back toward the door. “Then I guess you should pack up whatever leftovers we have so you can take them a bit of the holiday, huh?”

  I could have smacked myself for not thinking of that sooner. We stepped back into the house, and I lifted up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on my father’s cheek. “You’re a smart man, Dad. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  He chuckled and hugged me tight. “Don’t let your mother find out or she’ll start expecting more from me. All these years later I’ve still got the woman convinced I don’t have the first clue how to use a washing machine.”

  We laughed and made our way back to the family, and I was comforted by the fact that, even if this was my dad’s last Thanksgiving, at least it was a great one.

  THE SUN HAD long since set by the time I pulled up to the fire station. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the engine in an open bay, meaning they weren’t out on a call. By the time I pulled into my spot and cut the engine, Quinn and the guy I remembered as Carpenter — I couldn’t think of his first name — were coming out to see who’d just driven up.

  “Lilly?” Quinn’s voice carried with a threat of surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  I opened the back door to give him a good look. When I’d told Mom about the guys at the station not getting to have a proper Thanksgiving meal, she and my aunt had been all over helping me pack up the leftovers. And there had been a lot. There was enough food to feed twenty lining my parents’ table, and the six of us hadn’t even come close to making a dent in it. Needless to say, the guys at the station were going to be eating very well.

  “I figured since you guys were missing out on Thanksgiving, I’d bring a bit of it to you.”

  “Oh, hell yeah!” Carpenter hooted and threw his fist in the air. “Please tell me you’ve got sweet potato pie.”

  I giggled at the excitement on the grown man’s face. “Two, actually. We made three and couldn’t finish the rest off.”

  Carpenter scooped me up in a bear hug, lifting my feet off the ground and spinning me in a circle. “If I wasn’t afraid of getting my teeth knocked in, I’d kiss you,” he declared once he put me back down.

  “Smart man,” Quinn stated with a scowl on his face. “Now do you mind removing your hands from her before I have to break your fingers?”

  Carpenter threw his hands up and took a big step back, causing me to burst into laughter. “I’ll just… take some of this inside.”

  He grabbed as many containers as he could carry — which wasn’t even half — and booked it back into the station. I was still laughing when I suddenly felt Quinn’s fingers brush across my cheek. I opened my eyes to find him standing right there, less than two inches separating us. “Thank you, baby,” he said in a low, melodic voice.

  I beamed up at him and his gaze traveled down my face to my dimple. “No problem. There was no way we were eating this all. Seemed wasteful to toss all this perfectly good food.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me flush against him. “As long as you didn’t have a hand in cooking any of it, I’m sure it’s delicious.”

  I managed to get one swift punch to his gut in before he leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips while we both laughed. “Let’s get the rest of this stuff inside and get you boys fed,” I breathed once he pulled back, his kiss leaving my legs wobbly.

  The smile he gave me then came so close to meeting his eyes that I considered it a win.

  As we loaded our arms with containers and headed into the station I couldn’t help but think: One day I was going to get a real smile from this beautiful man.

  Lilly

  “OKAY, GUYS,” I called out, as my heels clicked along the wooden floor back stage. “We’ve been preparing for this for months. You know your steps forward and back. You’re going to do great. So let’s knock ‘em dead, yeah?”

  My students all let out cheers of excitement. Some looked more anxious than others, but I had complete faith that each and every one of them was going to do amazing.

  The Winter Showcase was a big deal in Pembrooke. It was a community event, not just the parents of the students enrolled at the school. Almost the whole town came out to watch the kids put on a show, and as I peeked through the curtain that led to the front of the auditorium, my belly fluttered with nervous butterflies. We had a full house.

  I lived for moments like this; moments when my kids were front and center, the spotlight shining on them. For me, dancing wasn’t about showing off my talent; it was about teaching an art to others so they could pass along that gift.

  “Seven minutes,” Kyle announced, as he and Samantha scurried around, helping kids fix costumes, hair, makeup, or the like. He planted a quick kiss on my cheek as he passed by, and Samantha reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “Miss Lilly! Miss Lilly!” I looked down just as Sophia rushed me, wrapping her arms around my legs. I bent with a laugh and scooped her up. “Hey there, Little Miss. You ready for your number?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! Does my bun look okay?”

  I set her
down and examined her hair. Over the past few months, Quinn’s skill at putting his daughter’s hair in a bun had really grown.

  “It’s perfect, sweetheart. And you’re beautiful. Is your daddy in the audience?”

  “Uh huh,” she nodded. “With Meemaw and Papaw too. They can’t wait to see me.” I was about to agree with them when one of the other little girls called Sophia’s name. She offered me a distracted wave and bolted off in that direction. I grinned after her, then turned toward the gathered crowd.

  “All right,” I spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “First number’s about to start. I need the intermediate ballet class to take their places.”

  The students scattered to all corners of the area backstage, some taking their places, some waiting in the wings to watch the performances they weren’t in. The air was a full of excitement and quiet chatter.

  “Five minutes,” called Samantha.

  I peeked back around the curtain, scanning the sea of faces for one in particular. I wasn’t sure why, but I knew seeing his face would help ease some of my nerves.

  “Lilly,” Kyle spoke, calling my attention from the audience. “You’ve got visitors.”

  I spun around and my face broke out into a bright smile at the sight of my mom and dad making their way up the stairs. “Hey! I thought you guys weren’t going to make it.”

  “Miss your biggest show of the year? Are you crazy?” Mom scoffed. She held onto my father’s arm, and I could tell she was offering him her support. He looked more tired today than usual.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, stepping up to kiss his cheek. “You okay?”

  “Right as rain.” He smiled, but I could see pain flicker in his eyes. This wasn’t a great day for him, but he was determined to be there for me.

  “And don’t you look so pretty,” Mom cooed, eyeing the pale pink, long-sleeved wrap dress I’d bought for tonight. I hardly ever dressed up, more comfortable in leggings and sweaters, or dance clothes than anything else, but I always tried to look nice for the showcase. I matched the dress with a pair of tan heels that were murder on my feet, but made my legs look fantastic. I was hoping Quinn would get a chance to see me in it before the night was through.