by Fredrick, MJ
“Not for a while, anyway.”
He heaved a sigh. “What is it?”
“Ready for it? A winter carnival.”
She said it like there was no work involved whatsoever. “Oh, for crying out loud.”
“If we start now, we have plenty of time to plan and get word out.”
“Because there aren’t any other winter carnivals.” He could name a half dozen within twenty miles.
“So we make ours different. We have a lot of people who want this place to succeed. You used to be one of them.”
“Don’t give me that look,” he ordered when she turned those pretty lips into a pout. “It’s not going to work on me this time. I may not even be here in the winter, if I can get the bar sold.”
She lowered her chin, the light in her eyes dimming. “Oh.”
He felt bad, then, for pissing on her parade, so to speak. Her best friend was out of town. How he got to be second in line, he had no idea. Well, there was another time he’d been second, after Gerry. And he wished to hell sometimes he’d be first. He loved how nothing discouraged her—except him saying that he was leaving Bluestone.
He blew out a breath and braced his hands on the bar. “Tell me your ideas. Then I’m keeping you on land. You always get your worst ideas out on the water.”
She lifted her gaze to his warily. “You sure?”
He slid a Coke in front of her. “Tell me.”
She kept her head down, then slid her hands across the polished counter, closed them around the glass, then lifted her gaze to his. “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. I thought we could have an illuminated parade, either to start or end. Maybe sledding races, or skiing races. And we could have a dance, maybe a themed dance of some kind. If we do it before Christmas, we can combine it with an arts and crafts show, and maybe a light festival, too. We could try another chili cook-off, maybe, too.”
“How long are you intending this thing to be?”
“Just a weekend, maybe the weekend after Thanksgiving.”
“You’d have to hope we have some good weather for that kind of thing. The luck we’ve been having here, we won’t have snow until February.”
But as usual, she wasn’t listening, her mind spinning. “A hockey game, maybe. And horse-drawn carriages. Oh, I’d love to have it before Christmas, but maybe if we have it in January or February, it’ll break up the winter blahs. I think maybe that would be better. We could maybe do it around Valentine’s Day. Do you have a calendar?”
“For next year? Are you kidding?”
She flashed him that smile that he felt in the pit of his stomach. Then she tucked her hair behind her ear as she shifted on the chair, only momentarily derailed. “Paper then. I need to write this down. No napkins this time.”
He paused mid-reach, then walked back into his office, grabbed a stack of paper from the printer and carried it out to her. She’d already grabbed a pen from a cup behind the counter and uncapped it with her teeth. She grabbed the paper from him, scribbling notes practically before she set it on the bar.
He watched her for a moment, wondering what it was that drove her, that never let her brain rest. Hell, she’d almost single-handedly planned the Fourth of July celebration yesterday, and today she was throwing herself into another project. Was it only her love for the town? Or did something else motivate her? Why did she always need to keep busy? He didn’t remember her being like this before Gerry died, but she was in love with Gerry then, and he occupied a lot of her time.
Maybe her need to be busy was so she wouldn’t mourn him.
“Have you discussed this with Adam?” He hoped she didn’t recognize the tension in his voice. Adam was all right, but the idea of another man putting his hands on her made him antsy. The idea of another man in her bed made him want to smash in Adam’s face, just like he’d done to Adam’s old man.
She wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t seen him today. And he won’t care anyway because he’ll be leaving soon.” She glanced at him, aware he was going to say he’d be leaving, too. “Besides, he’s not as good of a listener as you are.”
He opened his mouth to protest.
“At least, you always listen to me.”
“Not like I have a choice,” he muttered. “You want another?” He gestured to her empty glass.
She looked at it in surprise. “I don’t even remember drinking it. No, I’d better not. You don’t want me too energized.” She gathered up her papers and winked at him. “Thanks, Quinn.”
He grunted, and watched her sashay out.
“If I were you, I’d find something to do with all that energy of hers,” one of the old guys at the bar said.
“I’m not man enough to take that on,” Quinn chuckled, but wondered when he could get her into his arms again.
***
Beth and Linda returned to town a few days later, Beth now engaged—very publicly—to country singer Maddox Bradley, who was buying a cabin in town. Linda couldn’t work for a few weeks with her broken collar bone, but she spent more time with her son, which was good. Trinity and Leo returned from their honeymoon the following Sunday and they all gathered at Quinn’s after church to hear about the trip to Washington, D.C. Quinn had to move between the bar and the table where they sat, because he had to run his business, and he didn’t really want them to know how curious he was about their trip. He had gotten out of the habit of letting people know he cared.
Maybe when he sold this place he’d travel a little, go out to see the country. He hadn’t let himself plan that far ahead. His family was in Kansas, but he didn’t want to go there. California, maybe, except the cost of living was pretty high. Florida. Someplace he could find a spot to fish every now and again.
He’d go see Gerry’s family, maybe. He’d enjoyed his visits there in Colorado when he and Gerry would be on leave and Quinn hadn’t wanted to go home. Gerry’s mom and dad had been welcoming, and his little sister had had a crush on Quinn, which he’d found pretty flattering when he was a scrawny twenty-year-old. He’d fallen out of contact with them this past year. It hurt too much to talk to them.
But yeah, Colorado. Maybe there.
“Hey, another round,” Leo called, earning a scowl, which he answered with a grin. He turned to plant a long kiss on his wife’s mouth and Quinn felt a pang. He wanted someone in his life. Just not here.
Just not her.
He returned to the table with five beers and a club soda—Trinity’s belly had a small bump now, noticeable beneath her blouse, maybe because Leo kept rubbing it. The man was on top of the world.
And he was the best friend Quinn had since Gerry died. Other than Lily.
“So when are you two getting married?” Trinity asked Beth.
Maddox slid his hand up and down Beth’s back. “We haven’t gotten that far.”
“What is it about married people that make them want to pair everyone else up?” Quinn muttered, though another wedding would mean getting Lily in his arms again.
Trinity’s blue eyes glinted when she turned to him. “Be careful or I’ll turn my match-making mojo on you.”
Quinn waved a hand in Maddox’s direction. “Feel free to harass those two. No offense, man.”
Maddox grinned and bent to kiss Beth on the mouth until she squirmed out of his arms.
“Quinn says you have a new idea,” Leo said to Lily when the conversation about his honeymoon waned.
“Quinn says?” Lily gave him a sideways look.
He shrugged and sipped from his bottle. “It’s a big idea. I figure you get help, you won’t have as much work to do. Spread it out.”
“That’s…very thoughtful.”
He grunted.
“He just doesn’t want to be stuck with all that last-minute work,” Leo said. “That’s what he told me.”
“Ah.” Lily shifted her gaze away as Trinity punched her husband’s arm, and Quinn felt about three inches tall. He didn’t know how to remedy it.
“So what’s this big ide
a?” Beth asked, and Quinn sent her a grateful glance.
Lily launched into her pitch, refined since last week, and with a few new ideas, like an ice slide for the kids and snowmobile races. He almost expected her to pull out a notebook with a schedule and details, but she merely folded her hands around her beer, her eyes bright as she discussed the new plan.
“We have to look at when other towns are having their winter carnivals so we don’t end up competing,” Trinity said. “I learned that the hard way with the school harvest carnival. Show me what you have later.”
Leo made a sound of protest and drew Trinity’s chair closer.
Trinity rolled her eyes. “In a few days, then.”
Lily laughed. “Okay. I’ll have it more cemented in my head by then, anyway.”
Quinn rose to go serve another round to the next table, wishing he’d been the one to make her laugh.
***
Blissful matrimony. At least, the institution seemed to agree with Trinity when Lily dropped by the house a few days later. Trinity fairly glowed, and it wasn’t just because she was pregnant. She was light-footed and easy to smile, and Lily felt a tug of longing low in her belly.
Adam was leaving this weekend, now that his sisters were settled and his father was sent on his way by Maddox. Nothing to keep him here. Which was fine with her. He was a nice diversion, but her heart was set on someone else.
Someone stubborn. Someone who kept saying he was leaving but never did.
She had brought her binder, in which she had a preliminary map, a few pages printed out from the Web from other winter festivals and their events, a calendar with possible dates highlighted, and numbers for rental places and other carnival coordinators.
“So, Adam’s leaving,” Trinity said, setting a tray of two glasses of iced tea on the coffee table and sitting on the sectional across from Lily. “Going to miss him?”
“Sure. The dinners, the walks by the lake, the kissing. He’s a very good kisser.”
“But?”
Lily looked at her friend from beneath her lashes.
Trinity sat back. “Quinn. No progress on that front?”
“He danced with me at your wedding, then got the call from Linda and Beth and all was forgotten.”
“So? If it was easy, it wouldn’t be as much fun. I mean, look at Adam. If you’re looking for easy, that’s it. But he doesn’t light your fire like Quinn.”
“I give Quinn opening after opening, and he holds me off, except for that one kiss.”
“So find out why, other than that tired old excuse that he’s leaving town. He hasn’t had the bar listed in the major papers for a while, just that same old sign that no one pays attention to anymore. And when Leo made his offer, he didn’t jump on it. So maybe he’s not as serious about selling as you think.”
Lily swept her hair back over her shoulder. “So what am I supposed to do about it? He isn’t so good at taking hints.”
“Then if you want him, you’re going to have to be forthright. You know him better than anyone in town. You’re just going to have to figure out which way will work for him. Now, show me what you’ve been working on.”
***
Quinn looked at the answering machine in horror. The only reason he had the thing was because he hated talking on the phone, and this let people get in contact with him. Of course now he wished he didn’t have the damned thing and wouldn’t have to hear that message.
Gerry’s parents were coming to Bluestone. They said they wanted to see the place their son had loved so much, and wanted to check in on Quinn to see how he was doing. Okay, he’d probably brought it on himself by not returning any of their calls, letting them know he was managing. And, well, he hadn’t checked his voice mail in a while. They were coming this weekend. Shit.
He crossed the street to the landing. Lily looked up in surprise when he entered and leaned on the counter. She was wearing glasses as she worked on paperwork and looked goddamned adorable.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said.
Flustered, she took them off and set them on top of the stack of papers. “Only when I’m working with numbers. Math isn’t really my thing, so I have to pay close attention.”
“You don’t do that on the computer?”
She made a face. “I do it first, then double check myself using the computer.”
He rolled his eyes. “Double the work.”
“But I know it’s right.” She straightened. “What brings you across the street?”
He shifted from foot to foot. He was aware she came to his place way more than he came in here. “I just got a call from Gerry’s folks. They’re coming out this weekend, and I don’t exactly have a place to put them up.” His house behind the bar was two bedrooms, but two very small bedrooms, and only one bathroom. And he’d lived alone since getting out of the military. He didn’t do well with others in his space. “Can I rent one of your cabins for them?”
She’d paled, just a little bit, and her hand went to her stomach. Damn, he should have prepared her better. Gerry’s folks were coming, and she’d been Gerry’s lover. Had she ever met them? Since she never left Bluestone and they lived in Boulder and had never been here, probably not.
But then she composed herself and was business as usual. “Sure, I’m pretty sure we have a vacancy.” She reached for another book to the side and flipped through the pages.
“How much would it be for the weekend?”
She looked up. “Nothing. We’re friends, Quinn.”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to make a living.”
“How many free Cokes and on-the-house beers have you given me?”
“Not enough to pay for a weekend at the lake.”
“If it’s not rented yet, I’m not going to make any money on it this weekend anyway,” she told him reasonably.
“I pay my way.”
“You’re my friend. They’re Gerry’s parents. Don’t. Worry. About it.”
He grunted. “Fine.” He’d find another way to repay her. “So. They’ll probably want to see you, too.”
“Why?”
“You were the last girlfriend Gerry had.”
She gave an awkward laugh. “I don’t know that I’d call myself his girlfriend. Just the woman he slept with when he came up to the lake.”
“And the woman he wrote to when he was deployed, who he’d video chat with when he got a chance. He talked about you all the time when he was there.”
She focused on the paperwork in front of her, but her hands were shaky. “Well. I suppose he wanted to be back here.”
Did she really not know? “Lily, he loved you.”
She drew back, her eyes wide, her knuckles white on the edge of the counter. “He never said.”
“Well, he should have.” Quinn shifted his weight. He would have, before, if he’d had the right.
Lily was still staring. “So his parents think we were in love?”
She hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d told her what he thought she already knew. Quinn braced his hands on the countertop, unsure how to proceed. “They know who you are. I don’t know if they think you were madly in love or whatever. But just be aware they might want to get to know you.”
She pushed to her feet and moved to the corner, her arms wrapped around herself. “Quinn, I don’t know what I can say to them. We hung out, we—went to bed together.” She blushed as she said it. “But there weren’t deep conversations or plans for the future, aside from the two of you buying the bar.”
“You cried when he died.” He couldn’t help his tone from being accusing, and she recoiled.
“Because it was horrible. He was my friend, a guy I’d spent time with and enjoyed, a good guy. He never should have been there, never should have died that way. Sometimes it makes me miserable knowing he’s not on this planet anymore. But there wasn’t a happily ever after planned for us.”
He drew back. Had he misread the whole thing? He’d been there for almost the whole rel
ationship, when they’d met Lily when they’d come to rent a boat, when Gerry had insisted that Lily accompany them to go buy their own boat. Quinn sold it after Gerry died, sent half the money to his parents, and bought himself a used boat that he was still making payments on. He’d watched Gerry’s flirtation with Lily become more intimate, then Gerry started spending nights at Lily’s place. Still, during the day they were a threesome, though Quinn had felt a pang of jealousy at Gerry finding the perfect woman. And when they’d shipped out again, she had come to the airport to see them off. She’d cried and wrapped Gerry in a passionate embrace.
And when he’d returned to Bluestone without Gerry, when he’d had to tell her Gerry died, she’d fallen apart, sobbed and sobbed, and Quinn held her in his arms and cried, too. She hadn’t smiled for a week, her eyes had been red-rimmed and swollen. She’d spent all her free time around Quinn, not talking about Gerry, but needing to be near him. And he’d wanted to be near her.
He still wanted it, too much. If Lily hadn’t been in love with Gerry, maybe a future was possible.
No, it would be wrong. Gerry had slept with Lily, had loved her, and he wasn’t here to live the life he was supposed to have lived. Quinn wasn’t going to take it over for him. It wasn’t right.
He pushed away from the counter, as if that was the only way he could separate himself from her. “Thanks. For the cabin, I mean. They’ll be in Friday night.”
“It’ll be ready for them.”
Something about the way she was looking at him, like she’d maybe figured something out, made him beat feet.
He was going to have to work harder at selling the bar before he did something entirely stupid.
***
Lily was busy at movie night when Gerry’s parents arrived, so Quinn had to greet them on his own. He’d started closing the bar early on Fridays for the movies, then reopening afterwards, so he was on his own with Rick and Maria Parrilla. Maria, a tiny woman, flung herself into his arms the moment he opened the door of his house behind the bar. He had to bend himself in half to return her embrace. Because he wasn’t accustomed to displays of affection, his response was awkward.