Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
ZOEY
Oh my gosh… that just happened. I swipe my finger against my lip, and yep. One hundred percent I am not hallucinating, that really just happened.
Quinn kissed me. And not just a kiss. We are talking an earth-shattering, my-knees-are-still-quaking, pretty-sure-my-breath-has-left-my-body-and-flown-halfway-to-Chicago kiss.
I close the door and lean against the wall.
My pulse pounds so hard in my head I think I might get dizzy.
Should I open the door back up? Invite her upstairs?
It’s been two years since I had sex, since I kissed, since I did literally anything.
Oh God, I want to. But it’s not smart. She will never want what I want.
And yet, maybe I can try the casual thing, if it means being casual with Quinn?
I crack open the door, cross all my fingers and toes, and hope so hard Quinn’s standing there.
But she’s not. She’s left. I’m as disappointed as I am relieved.
Because who am I kidding? I can’t do the casual thing.
Look at me right now. Only one kiss, and bam.
I’m stuffing my fingers in my pocket to keep from calling her.
My body buzzes with warmth. Gah! Quinn and I just freaking kissed!
What a whirlwind of a night. I lean my forehead against the door and wait for my heartbeat to calm.
Okay, I like Quinn. I really like her, and I know I’ve liked her for a while, and now, I believe this shows that she likes me, too.
But I can’t be a one-night-stand person. I just can’t. I want more. With her.
So, now that I’ve established that, what the heck do I do?
Josie’s letters still lie scattered across my table from earlier.
I gather them into a pile and toss them in the trash.
The letters are friendly and kind, just like Josie.
But also filled with regret. The messages ranged from her being sorry that things ended the way they did, to regret that she moved down to Minneapolis, to her missing my friendship.
But really, at the core, I think she just misses me and is hoping to reconnect when I’m ready.
And as much as I can appreciate this, since I was in the same spot last year, reconnecting is not something I need or want.
Josie was always a big fan of hearts and sweet cards, but some of the cards were just funny. She works at a veterinarian clinic, and at least two of the cards were pictures of cats sleeping in awkward positions. It’s clear Josie is going through something, but really, it’s not my business.
It’s nearing 1:00 a.m. and I’ve officially checked my phone a million times to see if Quinn sent a message.
She hasn’t.
Bright sun illuminates my room and I blink against the blinds.
I tuck the pillow in my arms and roll over to look at the clock.
Wowza. My eyes are crusty, a low-grade headache pounds against my head, and my mouth is as dry as a week-old croissant.
It’s almost like I had more than one drink.
But this hangover feeling is about the emotions of the night and getting only six hours of sleep—not the alcohol consumption.
In the shower, I replay feeling Quinn’s mouth on me. My gosh, she is such a good kisser. Firm, controlled, yet also soft and luscious. But am I really ready for what this may mean? And what is she thinking?
I know we need to have a conversation, but how would that look?
Like, “Hey, Quinn, I’m really falling for you, and it would kind of kill me if you saw other people, and I really want to have sex with you, but also, I really don’t because then I’ll really fall for you and you don’t mix sex and feelings, and I wish you did, and please see my first point that I’m too scared to fall for you because my last relationship really gutted me, but here we are. ”
That will land like a bag of wet flour.
As I roll into town, I crack the window open to let in the mineral scent drifting off Lake Superior and wisps of fall into my car.
It’s chillier today, low 60s, the type of weather I like.
The browns, ambers, and oranges of the leaves fly past my window.
After I grab a coffee, I step out onto the sidewalk and see Colby and her dog, Kona.
“Colby!” I wave and walk toward her.
Colby’s normally saddish smile lifts a bit, and she moves toward me. “Hey, Zoey. Enjoying the last of the warm weather before it’s ripped away?”
“You know it.” I squat and rub Kona’s head and fur. “Hi, girl. I’ve missed you. I’ll have a huge pile of doggie treats to give you when I open back up.”
Colby switches the leash from one hand into the other. “Do you know the date you’ll reopen? I think the whole town is going through withdrawals.”
“That is really nice to hear.” Yes, I do want to open back up.
Obviously. I need to earn a living, I miss my staff members, I miss the customers.
But also, when I open back up, that means I’ll no longer see Quinn every day, and I don’t want that, either.
“Actually, next week we should be good to go as long as the inspector signs off on the fix. I’m not sure how much I’ll have for sale those first few days.
I didn’t want to put in too big of a supply order if I’m not able to use it. ”
Colby runs her hand around Kona’s fur. “What have you been doing with your time? Hopefully, taking a break, catching up on sleep?”
What have I been doing? Falling headfirst for my friend.
Watching my heart tiptoe outside of my body, praying it won’t get trampled.
“Actually, did you hear about the Christmas tree farm in Maple Creek? A friend of mine, Quinn Lee, bought the farm and is revamping it. She’s opening it back up for Christmas, so I’ve been out there helping set up, making all sorts of Christmas crafts. ”
Falling for her…
“Oh, that’s great,” Colby says. “No, I don’t think I knew about that tree farm opening back up.”
This doesn’t surprise me. Although the entire town knows about the tree farm, Colby, I think, gets her town gossip only from me. I’ve heard no one else ever talk about Colby, and she’s always alone. For all I know, she lives in an entirely different town and only comes here on Saturdays.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Mom. I better get it. I glance back at Colby. “Hey, so sorry, I have to head out. I’ll post on social media the opening date the moment I know.” I rub the top of Kona’s head. “Good to see you.”
“You too,” Colby says and strolls back down the sidewalk.
Back in the car, I put the phone on speaker and dial my mom. “Hey, sorry, I missed the call. What’s up?”
“Hey, honey. Quick update. There’s about ten more people coming tomorrow to the tree farm. Noah and I will swing by early and help you two set things up.”
“Oh, okay, cool.” I slow to a roll at the stoplights. “Did you find those old wagons that Dad talked about?”
“Yes, we did. He found even more items out at Grandma’s.
That’s really why I’m calling. We have a ton of stuff Quinn can just use or have, but you know me…
overbearing to my last dying breath. Just let me know if you think she’ll be overwhelmed, and will you please let her know I won’t be offended if she doesn’t use it. ”
“Yep, I will.” I pull onto the highway. “Thanks—”
“And I’m really calling to see how everything went last night.”
I knew it. My mom’s sparkle in her voice is too bright. She wants to get me married and give her more grandkids ASAP, and when Josie and I broke up, she was almost as hurt as I was.
But I don’t know how to explain it. Comfortable, warm, perfect, and the best kiss I think I’ve ever had in my life. But I’m not going to tell that to my mom, who will absolutely plant mistletoe all around the barn and force me and Quinn to stand under it.
But does Quinn have feelings? Yes, she reached in and kissed me.
But she’s also just like that. She told me that, more than once, and I believe her.
Kissing me doesn’t mean she has feelings for me.
From how she describes it, she hasn’t ever had feelings.
It would be pretty egotistical of me to think I hold some mystical power and could flip someone like Quinn into the relationship type. “What? So sorry, you’re breaking up.”
“I can hear you just fine,” my mom says with a laugh.
“Okay, okay. I’ll back off and spare you the whole ‘you’re not getting any younger’ speech.
But what I will tell you is that you are brilliant, and amazing, and deserve so much happiness.
And ever since you and Quinn met, I’ve noticed some extra sprinkles on your cookies. I just want to see you happy.”
A wave of emotion hits me. “Did you just use a cookie analogy? Sprinkles on my cookies?”
“It sounded better than ‘spring in your step,’” she says. “Okay, fine. I’ll stop meddling. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you tomorrow at ten.”
I click off the phone, and as I drive into the property, I grin at a few of the wooden signs Quinn and I worked on this week that are lining the pathway to the barn: Anyone seen Rudolph?, Santa’s open for business, and Merry and bright right this way.
I roll to a stop and glance out the window.
Quinn’s hauling hay from a pile and adding it to the back of a trailer.
She’s wearing overalls and a flannel, with her hair plopped on top of her head.
She might even be cuter than she was last night, which is hard to beat.
She tugs her work gloves and waves at me.
“Your signs look great,” I say as I get out of the car.
“Oh, good. Thanks. Do you think they’re spaced out enough? I want to add one more, maybe the ‘ho ho ho’ one or the ‘Santa’s workshop this way’ one, but also don’t want to use up all the good signs and not have any once people park.”
Last night Quinn’s lips were on me, and today we’re back to normal, as if she didn’t completely rock my world. And before anyone says anything, yes, I know. She’s following my lead.