13. John
13
JOHN
I pulled on my pants, then yanked my shirt over my head. I hesitated at the foot of Quinn’s bed, looking at her in the semi-darkness. It was just after four, and I had woken after a brief period of sleep with her. Otherwise, we’d been at it all night.
Unplanned. Unprotected. Unusual.
Perfection.
She was everything I could have dreamed of in a lover. Loving, responsive, giving, sexy. Any misgivings her ex had left her with vanished as the moments went by. She became more vocal, pleading, leading instead of following. I’d had her three times, the last one as she rode me, her long hair wild around her face, her nails scoring my skin as she drove herself, and me, to completion. She was stunning in her passion. Watching her orgasm, feeling her body spasm, tighten around me, was the most erotic vision I had ever seen.
I was loath to leave her, but I knew I had to. Pumpkin would be awake soon, and she would ask questions. Lots of questions. The entire community would be up when the sun broke through the dawn, and my truck wasn’t exactly quiet. Although we were adults, I felt an underlying need to protect Quinn and Abby from as much gossip as possible.
I bent and brushed a final kiss to Quinn’s forehead, my lips lingering on her warm skin. She smelled of her light perfume, of me, of us.
I liked it.
I made my way through the silent house, peeking in on Abby, then letting myself out. And after making sure the door locked behind me, I headed to my truck. I was glad Quinn’s house was so close to the corner as I started the engine and left. That meant fewer people looking out to see what vehicle was around.
I had another long, busy day ahead of me, and I needed to get back to the farm and begin the never-ending list of chores that waited.
Yet somehow, the thoughts of the two females I’d left behind lingered on my mind all day.
The sun was high in the sky when I headed back to the house. The crops were coming along well, and I had finished the repairs to the fence the donkey had damaged. I did some plowing in a new section of land I had added last year but not cultivated yet. I was going to experiment with a different crop and see how it did before using the other half of the land. I was tired and my body ached. I had a slight headache from the heat and the fact that I hadn’t drunk nearly enough water as I’d been too busy. The sandwiches I’d eaten early were nowhere near as good as the ones I’d eaten from the Dill. I laughed quietly as I rounded the corner. Even I was calling it that now.
I stopped in surprise, seeing Quinn’s SUV in the driveway. I wasn’t expecting her until later. I had pulled some steaks from the freezer, but that was as far as I had gotten with any ideas for dinner. I sped up, climbing the steps and walking into the house.
Two things hit me. The incredible aroma of something cooking, and the laughter of Quinn and Abby coming from the kitchen. Both were foreign occurrences for me. I was used to an empty house—and silence.
But they made me smile, and I strode forward, spying my girls at the counter, making cookies.
The thought caught me off guard. My girls . I repeated the words in my head. I liked how they sounded.
I paused and watched them, their heads so close it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, the way their dark hair wove together. The air was rife with the scent of chocolate and sugar. A large bowl of potato salad sat to one side, making my mouth water. I saw the steaks resting in marinade and a large pile of skewered fresh vegetables ready to join them on the grill.
“You know,” I drawled. “I could call the local constable and have you ladies arrested for break and enter.”
They looked up, surprised. That turned to delight when Abby grinned widely. “Farmer John!” she crowed. “We’re making cookies!”
I pushed off the doorframe. “I can smell them.” I snuck one, popping it into my mouth and chewing. “Delicious.”
I met Quinn’s eyes and, unable to stop myself, looped an arm around her waist and pulled her in. Remembering Abby, I pressed a kiss to Quinn’s cheek. “Hey.”
She pulled back, her cheeks flushing. “Hey, yourself.” Then she tossed her hair. “You can’t have us arrested since we were given a key.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Is that a fact?”
She nodded in triumph. “Yes. Laura gave it to me.”
I bent and pressed a kiss to Abby’s head, stroking her soft hair and winking at her. “And how did you accomplish that?”
Quinn grinned. “Bribing her with dinner.”
I looked around, suddenly understanding the amount of food being prepped. “Ah.”
“She’s bringing some chicken skewers to add to the protein portion. She offered me the key so we could come and get started. She said you wouldn’t mind…” Quinn trailed off, looking nervous.
Abby was busy rolling a ball of dough for the cookie tray, and I quickly pressed a hard kiss to Quinn’s full mouth. “I don’t mind at all,” I assured her. “Except for the fact that I have to share you.”
“Stop it,” she murmured.
“What time are they coming?”
“About an hour.”
“Okay, I’m going to go shower so I don’t smell like dust, dirt, and cows.”
Abby wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”
She squealed with laughter as I hoisted her into the air and blew a raspberry on her stomach. “Careful,” I warned. “Or I’ll put you in the field, and you’ll be all smelly too.”
She kept laughing, and I set her down, heading to the door. I looked over my shoulder at the sight.
My girls in my kitchen. My family coming to join us.
What a great day.
“Tell me more about John as a kid,” Quinn urged, laughter glinting in her eyes.
“I think you’ve heard enough,” I said dryly, sipping my beer and shaking my head at my sister, who was enjoying herself.
Far too much, in my opinion.
Quinn and Abby had heard about my attempt to help my gramps plant seeds. How I had decided one wasn’t enough in a hole and put in about a dozen—of different types of seeds.
“Gramps spent hours trying to thin out the plants and fix them,” Laura said, laughing. “John also decided plants needed more water than Gramps thought, so he drowned half the crop before Gramps got to him.”
Laura ignored me. She leaned over, her amusement high as she spoke to Quinn. “When he was young, he got a bike.”
“Like Cody,” Abby piped up.
Laura nodded. “He was a bit younger and the bike was used, but he spent hours painting it and shining it up. He was so excited, and he was going to the cliff to show it off to his friends.”
I groaned. “Not this.”
“What happened?” Quinn asked, resting her elbow on the table and grinning.
Bob caught my eye and lifted one shoulder as if to say, “Give it up, man. No point fighting it.”
He was right, so I sat back and took another sip of my beer.
“Have you been to the cliff in the park?” Laura asked, her eyes dancing.
“No,” Quinn replied. “I haven’t.”
“Cliff is a suggestive word,” I muttered. “More like a bluff.”
Laura and Bob laughed. “Now. Back then, it seemed huge.” Laura turned to Quinn. “The water is fairly shallow along the beach. By the cliff, there’s a drop off into the water, and at that point, it’s much deeper. When we were kids, you’d dare someone to jump—it was a big thing.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, another big thing was to pedal your bike really fast toward the cliff, then turn before you got there, hitting your brakes hard. The one closest to the edge of the cliff won.”
“What was the prize?” Quinn asked.
“Bragging rights,” I interjected. “When I was a kid, that was the biggest deal.”
“Shut up, John. I’m telling the story,” Laura demanded.
I held up my hands in supplication.
“Anyway, John had taken the bike apart and put it back together, making some adjustments. He was sure he’d win. He rode it to the cliff and challenged Craig, who was the current ‘reigning champ.’ But John hadn’t quite tightened everything as well as he should…” She paused dramatically. “As he barreled toward the cliff, the handlebars came off. He went one way, and the bike took off, sailing through the air like a glider. Over the cliff and through the air a long way before sinking into the lake.” She smirked. “Even John stood and watched it.”
“It was impressive,” I admitted with a sheepish shrug. “I had no idea it could fly like that.”
“Oh my,” Quinn said, trying to hold in a laugh.
“I remember wondering if I was bleeding enough that my dad would sympathize, or if he’d whoop my butt for being so stupid.”
Abby’s eyes went wide. “Oh no! You were bleeding? Farmer John, were you killed?”
Laughing, I swung her up on my knee. “Nope.” I pulled up my shirt sleeve. “But I got this scar.” Then I touched my eyebrow. “And this one, plus a big one on my knee. The bike sank, and we never recovered it.”
“Oh no,” Quinn murmured.
“My dad decided that, plus more chores, would be my punishment. And I had to go back to my old bike. I didn’t get a new one for a year.” I laughed. “I think Dad only relented ’cause I had a growth spurt and I kept hitting my knees on the handlebars, and Mom nagged him all the time.”
“Any more cliff races?” Quinn asked.
“Nope. I learned my lesson. Next time I went to the cliff was to make out with Jenny Stait.”
“What’s make out?” Abby asked.
“Oh, um, we snuggled.”
“Oh, like you did with Momma last night in her bed?”
The entire room became silent.
“What?” Quinn asked, her voice an octave higher. “You mean when we were sitting together during the storm, right?”
“No, Momma.” Abby shook her head, impatient. “Later. I woke up in my bed and I came to see you, but you and Farmer John were snuggling in your bed. I knew you were okay, so I went back to my bed.” She smiled. “You were having a sleepover!”
For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. We thought we’d been so careful. I hadn’t heard Abby get up. Or the bedroom door open. I had been too exhausted from fucking her mother for hours.
What if she’d gotten up while ? —
I couldn’t bring myself to finish the thought or the consequences it would have brought.
Cody unwittingly saved the day. “Oh—ha-ha-ha,” he laughed. “Uncle John does that. He sometimes tucks me in and falls asleep too! Remember last time, Uncle J? You rolled off my bed, and you never even woke up.”
Everyone laughed, the relief on Quinn’s face evident.
Cody leaned his elbows on the table. “When Uncle J took me to Toronto last year for my birthday, there was only one bed in the room, and we shared it. He didn’t fall off ’cause it was, like, the biggest bed I’ve ever seen, but he snored.”
I shook my head. “I was tired, bud. You wore me out.”
“What did you do there?” Quinn asked.
“We went to a baseball game and the aquarium,” Cody told her. “And the coolest restaurant where I could see everything. It was the best day ever!”
“The CN Tower,” I explained. “He wanted to see a game. I thought the aquarium would be cool. We looked around in the morning, had lunch at the CN Tower, the aquarium in the afternoon, and a baseball game in the evening. We were both exhausted.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Did you ever go? Since you lived there?” Laura asked.
Quinn looked sad. “No.” She glanced at Abby, who was busy chatting with Cody. “My, ah, ex didn’t do ‘fun’ things. Our schedule was pretty set.”
“Well, maybe you can one day.” Laura looked at me meaningfully, and I nodded slightly in her direction. It was a good idea I would have to think about. I was grateful, though, that Cody’s story had shifted the focus off Quinn and me and our “sleepover.”
“Maybe,” Quinn said with a smile.
Laura and Quinn insisted on clearing the table. Bob fell asleep on the sofa, and I headed outside, hearing the kids laughing. I crossed the yard, going to the back. Cody was pushing Abby in the old tire swing I had put up for him years before. She was laughing as she soared, but my heart hit my throat when I saw how high. I hurried forward, waving at him to stop.
“What, Uncle J? She’s having fun.”
“I know. I haven’t checked the rope lately.”
“Oh, okay.” He stopped pushing her and the wide arc of the swing stopped, but Abby kept pumping her legs. It kept her going, but not as high.
“She’s a girl,” I explained quietly. “Smaller than you. Younger. You have to look out for her.”
“I know. I was watching. I didn’t think about the rope, though.” He peered up. “Looks okay.”
I followed his line of vision. The rope was thick and still strong. “Still, you gotta be careful.”
He snorted. “Abby is tough. She’s not like other girls. She fell earlier and didn’t even whine about it. Just brushed off her pants and kept going. I like her.” He paused. “Is she my cousin?”
I scratched my chin. “Pardon?”
“When you marry her mom, will she be my cousin? ’Cause I gotta stand up for her and all if she is family.”
“You should, even as a friend.”
He gave me a look. “I will. But family is even more important.”
“I just started dating her mom. We’re not talking marriage yet.”
Even as the words were out of my mouth, I found my gaze straying over to the kitchen window, where I could see Quinn and Laura working in the kitchen. I wondered what it would be like to come home to Quinn daily. To sit across from her and Abby and listen to them tell me about their days. To be able to tell them about mine.
How it would feel to end the day lying beside Quinn in our bed.
There definitely would be sleepovers of the adult variety.
I shook my head to clear it of the strange thoughts. It was way too soon for that.
Cody shrugged. “If you like her, you should think about it, Uncle J. She’s pretty, and I heard Jay’s dad say he was gonna ask her out. He said he’s looking for a replacement something.”
I had to hold in my derision. Jay’s dad was looking for wife number three to cook, clean, and be a mother to his hell-raising kids. That wasn’t happening.
I’d make sure of it.
I’d seen his truck at the Dill a few times early in the day when I was in town.
I decided tomorrow might be a good day to try Quinn’s breakfast.
Earlier than usual the next morning, I finished my chores, leaving it to the men I hired to complete the watering and checking of the crops. I showered and headed into town, pulling up on the main street. I huffed out a huge breath. Our little town had one salon and barber, a drugstore, the hardware and garden, and a surprisingly decent grocery store that had an in-store butcher, which was rare these days.
The liquor store was small but adequate, and right beside it was the florist. It had been around since I was a child, the current owner’s mother having worked there, and her mother before that. I knew the woman who ran it, having gone to school with her son. Still, I dreaded going in.
I had never bought flowers before in my life, aside from a few bouquets for my mother.
This was new to me. I slid from the truck, entering the florist shop, hoping no one spotted me. Inside was filled with bushes, shrubs, and buckets of flowers. There were plants and pots hanging from the ceiling, in the windows, and perched everywhere. I could smell the flowers, their scent tickling my nose.
A woman came around the back counter. “Morning!” She stopped, seeing me. “John?” she questioned. “John Elliott?”
“Hey, Martha,” I greeted her, pushing my baseball hat back. “How are you?”
“Good. I’m good. I’m surprised to see you in here.” She clapped her hands. “What are you needing?” Then she frowned. “Is Laura sick?”
“No, she’s fine.”
She bustled forward. “Oh, that’s good. Did you anger her? You need flowers to say you’re sorry? I have some funny balloons we can add. They’ll make her smile, I guarantee you!”
“They, ah, aren’t for Laura.”
She stopped, then a wide smile split her face. Her eyes crinkled and danced. “Oh, romantic flowers?”
“Um, have a great day sort of flowers,” I replied, wishing I’d gone to Mitchell or another little town.
“O…kay,” she drawled. “What did you have in mind?”
“No idea. Something bright, maybe?”
“What does she like? Any allergies?”
I blinked. Who knew buying flowers involved so many details. “Look, Martha, I don’t know. Can you make me up a nice bouquet that smells good and looks…impressive? Noticeable.”
She tapped her chin. “In a vase or out?”
I frowned. What were the chances Quinn had a vase at the restaurant?
“In.”
“Gimme ten,” she said. “And by impressive, you mean about a hundred bucks or so?”
“Will that be noticeable?”
“From anywhere in the room. No matter how big.”
“Perfect.”
Twenty minutes later, I carried a large vase of flowers into Kind of a Big Dill. Part of me wished I’d had them delivered, but then I wouldn’t be able to make my point.
I saw Jay’s truck parked out front, and I decided the looks and smirks I was getting were worth it. He was about to find out Quinn was unavailable.
Inside, the restaurant was busy. Jay was at the counter, sipping a coffee, eating toast. I withheld my snort. Cheap prick. Of course he chose the lowest-priced item on the menu. He was notoriously… frugal . A good-looking bastard and, from what I had heard, charming at first, but once the shine wore off, he was simply looking for free maid and child-rearing services.
He saw me, frowning at the sight of the flowers in my arms. I set them on the counter, swinging onto a stool at the end where Quinn had to notice me. I ignored Jay.
A moment later, the kitchen door swung open, and Tammy walked out, her hands full. She eyed up the flowers, then me, a grin crossing her face, but she didn’t say anything. She delivered the plates to the table, then returned, pouring me a cup of coffee.
“The boss will be out in a moment. She was just putting more pies in to bake.” She eyed the flowers. “If you were hoping to make her smile, you might just have done it.”
I frowned, wondering why Quinn was having a bad day. She came out of the kitchen, looking perturbed, but her expression changed when she saw me. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled, the agitation disappearing. When she saw the flowers, she stopped, her smile growing wider, disbelief written on her face.
She stopped in front of me. “John Elliott,” she breathed, touching a rose petal. “What have you done?”
At the other end of the counter, Jay’s voice was an unwelcome interruption. “Hey, Quinn sweetie, I really need more coffee.”
She shut her eyes, then exhaled. Turning her head toward him, she spoke clearly, her voice dripping with sweetness. “You’ve had five cups, Jay. The last two you let go cold, and I threw them out.”
“Bottomless cups,” he said snidely.
“If you drink them, not throw them away. Order a real breakfast, and I might give you a fresh one. And for the last time, stop calling me sweetie. We don’t know each other well enough for nicknames.” She paused. “And we never will.”
Tammy came through the door, carrying a pot. “Tammy, I need—” Jay began.
“Not happening, Jay. I heard the boss. Order something besides toast tomorrow.” Then Tammy tossed her head and headed away to refill other coffee cups.
Quinn turned to me. Her unanswered question hung between us. Maybe claiming her in public wasn’t the best plan. “To make you smile,” I offered lamely.
Shock wasn’t the right word as she rose up on her toes, gripped the lapels of my flannel shirt and hauled my ass off the stool, dragged me partway over the counter, and kissed me.
Hard.
Passionately.
Way more possessively than I had planned to kiss her.
Then she let me go, and I dropped back onto my stool.
I’d had no idea she was that strong. I had to admit, it was a turn-on.
It seemed as if I had just been claimed.
A few people chuckled. Jay stood, muttering about the diner in the next town and left, slamming the door behind him. Tammy walked past and winked. “Way to go, boss lady.” She winked. “Nice form, John Elliott. Your butt looks great in those jeans.”
Quinn looked cool and calm. But her mouth was red and wet from my tongue. Unable to stop myself, I rose, cupping the back of her head and kissing her back. Then I sat back, grinning at her.
“Tit for tat,” I muttered.
She bent close, pouring me more coffee. “And as far as I’m concerned, to be continued.”
“Six?”
“My place,” she replied and walked away. She stopped, turned, and smiled. “Thanks, John. I love the flowers. Breakfast is on the house.”
She winked. “So am I,” she mouthed.
I looked down at the counter, grinning. Six o’clock couldn’t come quickly enough.