17. Quinn
17
QUINN
T he glass in my hand slipped, hitting the floor and shattering into hundreds of shards that scattered as far as my eyes could see. It took every ounce of restraint in me not to drop the other glass I was carrying and scream as it, too, exploded.
Instead, I drew in a deep inhale of oxygen, set down the other glass, and looked around the restaurant with a rueful smile. “Careful, everyone. I’ll have this cleaned up in a jiffy.”
The last few tables smiled and nodded, going back to their meals. The bell rang from the kitchen, and I was grateful the final order was ready. An unexpected, large group had shown up half an hour before closing, so we were going to be late. Still, it was good for business.
I went to the kitchen, grabbing the first tray, once again wishing I had help. Tammy had the day off, my other waitress, Jan, had called in sick, and I couldn’t get hold of Chloe. So I was alone for the day. Then Kevin, the other staff member, called in sick as well. Normally, I could manage, but with the lingering heat, it seemed no one wanted to cook, and we had been extraordinarily busy all day. I heard the door open out front, and I rolled my eyes before going through the kitchen door. I had a feeling the day wouldn’t be ending soon.
But as I went out front, I was greeted by John’s confused smile as he sat at the counter. He rose to his feet, immediately reaching for the large tray. For a moment, I almost said no, and then I allowed him to take it. He followed me to the table and held it as I handed out plates.
“Right back with the rest,” I promised.
“Can we get more water and coffee?” one customer asked.
“Of course.”
I returned to the kitchen, loading the tray, hurrying back, and stopping in amazement. John was at the table, coffeepot and water pitcher in hand. He was pouring liquid, chatting with the customers, being charming. Friendly.
I had to blink and make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Ah, there she is,” he said, meeting my gaze.
I crossed to the table, and once again, he held the tray as I gave out the rest of the plates.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“No,” was the chorus I was pleased to hear. “John here got us ketchup and everything else while you were getting the food. We’re good,” one woman assured me. “I know we’re late, so we’ll eat up so you can close.”
“Please take your time. It’s not a problem,” I lied.
They all began to eat, and I recalled I needed to clean up the glass. Except when I turned, I saw John by the booth, broom in hand. I approached him. “I’ll finish that.”
“Almost done.” He looked around. “Where’s your staff?”
I moved closer, dropping my voice. “Tammy has the day off. Jan called in sick, then about an hour later, the busboy, Kevin, did the same thing. I have a feeling they were being ‘sick’ together. I couldn’t get hold of Chloe. And we’ve been crazy. Clint and I have been run off our feet.”
“Tammy wouldn’t have minded you calling her.”
“She’s at her in-laws for a birthday party. I didn’t want to take her from that. It’s almost done. But I’m not going to get out of here on time.”
He frowned.
I took in a deep breath. “Could you pick Abby up for me? Take her to the farm. I don’t know what you can do when?—”
He cut me off by laying a finger on my lips. “Yeah, I’ll pick up Pumpkin and take her to the farm.” He grinned widely. “She can come with me to finish the day. Check out the crops, ride on the tractor. She’ll love it. We’ll take her to the slumber party when you’re done.”
I worried my lip.
“Unless.” He paused with a concerned tone. “Do you think she’s okay for that?” he asked. “I was worried about that all morning. Wondering if being at the farm is enough of a change.”
“She’s slept at Mandy’s before. She knows the other girls—and Bethy will be there. She’s looking forward to it.”
“Then we’ll do that, and I’ll take you to supper. If anything changes, we’ll swing by and pick her up. No worries.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out.
Suddenly, he yanked me into his arms and, ignoring the fact that we had an audience, kissed me.
“Good girl,” he whispered into my ear. “Asking me for help. I know how hard that is for you.”
I couldn’t help the flutter in my chest at his whispered praise.
I turned my head and pressed my mouth to his ear. “I like it when you call me good girl.”
He stiffened, then chuckled low and satisfied in his chest. “Glad you do. I plan on calling you that tonight while your lips are wrapped around my cock. Then again when I take you hard and listen to you scream my name.” His voice was like melted butter flowing over me, warm and sweet, the tone deep and sensuous. “We’ll be alone tonight, darlin’. No holds barred.”
I shivered, stared at him a moment, then I gripped his shirt and yanked him down to my level, kissing him as hard as he had done earlier, sliding my tongue over his.
He lifted his head with a lazy grin and touched my bottom lip, stroking it. “What was that for?”
“For being you. And all that —” I indicated the tables “—pouring water, being charming. Helping me.”
He shook his head. “Your ex has a lot to answer for. That’s what people in love do, Quinn. They help each other.” With that word bomb, he dropped his head and kissed me again. “I’m going to get Clint to make me a sandwich and head out. I’ll see you in a bit.”
He walked away, and I stared after him.
Did he know what he’d just said?
Did he mean it?
I shook my head to clear it.
I’d have to find out later.
Right now, I had a restaurant to run.
JOHN
Abby looked up, squinting. I reached down on the floor and plunked a straw hat on her head. She giggled. “Now I’m a cowboy!”
“Not a cowboy. A farmer,” I corrected. “A junior one.”
“How come?”
“This is a farm, not a ranch. I have no livestock. No horses.” I explained at her confused look. “I grow crops that feed people. It’s important. I like being a farmer.”
“You have cows. And you wear cowboy hats.”
“I wear hats to keep the sun off my face like this.” I tapped the brim of her too-big hat. “And if I were a cowboy, I’d ride a horse, and I’d have hundreds of cattle—not only a few dairy cows.”
“Oh. Okay. I like being a farmer too, then. I really like horses too, but this tractor is cool. Can I steer again?”
“Yep.” I placed her little hands on the big wheel, covering them with mine, and let her “steer” the tractor.
“Farmer John?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you Momma’s serious boyfriend now?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How come?”
“Because I think your momma is incredible. I think you are too. I like spending time with you.”
“My dad didn’t.”
“Your dad is an idiot.” Then I realized what I said and tried to backtrack. “Um, I mean, your dad…”
“…is an asshole,” she finished. “That’s what Momma says. But I can’t say that to people.” She glanced up. “But you’re not people, right? You’re Momma’s. And mine. I like you, Farmer John. You’re big and strong, and you wouldn’t let me be gone.”
“Gone?” I asked, slowing down the tractor. I had a feeling I was going to need to concentrate.
“I heard Dad tell Momma once, if she wasn’t careful, one day I’d be gone, and she’d never find me. That made Momma cry. I kicked him, and he called me a brat and slammed the door so hard the wreath fell off, and the heart Momma had on it broke. That made her cry harder.”
I shut my eyes before I spoke. No wonder Quinn was always on edge, and it explained Abby’s trouble sleeping in new places. I tilted up Abby’s chin. “Listen to me, Pumpkin, okay?”
She nodded.
“Nothing bad is ever going to happen to you. You will never be ‘gone’ from your momma. I won’t let that happen. No one will ever take you away. You are safe here. It’s my job to protect you now. Both of you.”
“What is pro-protect?”
I turned her to look at the field. “You see that big covering in the corner? It’s so hot there, I cover the plants to protect them from the sun so they’re safe. They can grow and be the happiest plants because the sun can’t hurt them.”
“So, you’re the cover?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if you’re not there?”
God, this kid was smart.
“I have little covers everywhere. If they thought you were in danger, they would let me know and protect you and your momma until I got there.”
“Can I see them?”
“You can see them, but you won’t know they’re a cover. It’s better that way.”
“Like fairies?”
I chuckled. “Sort of.”
She sighed. “I like that.”
“So you don’t have to worry anymore.”
She turned, flinging her little arms around my neck. “I love you, Farmer John.”
I hugged her back. “I love you too, Pumpkin.”
She pulled back. “And Momma? Do you love her?”