Chapter Sixteen
Quinn
I wake up the next morning feeling refreshed and ready to get out of bed. Whatever I’d woken up with the previous day seems to have eased. Opening my eyes slowly, I glance around my dimmed room, half expecting to see Bram here. I’m relieved he’s not, but I’m also sort of wishing he were.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I picture the way he looked yesterday when he told Lois to get out of my room. It’s a rare occurrence to render Lois speechless, and if I hadn’t been feeling so badly at the time, I probably would have enjoyed it even more.
There’s something about being taken care of that fills all the missing cracks of my heart. Dad’s death left a gaping hole in my life. But I’ve stayed so busy ever since, trying to keep everything running and making sure Mom doesn’t fall apart, that I haven’t realized how much has been lacking in my life.
Until Bram.
The thought unsettles me. Bram was here before Dad died, during those first few days, and ever since. How am I just now seeing him? When his thumb grazed my lips, I thought . . . well, truthfully, I’m not sure what I thought, but the gentle touch had stirred something deep inside of me.
Whatever it is, I need to stuff it down. Way down. At least until I can get through this dinner with our families. I can’t overthink our decision, or I’ll end up backing out.
There’s no backing out of this though. My bank account is sparse after paying for my insulin, lancets, needles . . . the list goes on and on. And that’s after Bram and my mysterious donor’s help. There’s a reason I agreed to this marriage facade to begin with.
I shower and get ready to face not only my family but the Baxters’ scrutiny. Will they suspect why we’re doing this? I don’t want to outright lie to them, but if they know the truth—that Bram and I aren’t in love with one another—they’ll find some way to pay for all my supplies.
That prospect is worse than marrying out of desperation instead of love.
Bram stopped by again this morning to check on me, bringing a fresh bouquet of flowers. This time they were yellow roses because he remembered yellow is my favorite color. It took me a while to convince him I was fine, but even after he went on to work, he continued to send me texts throughout the day. Mostly texts of funny memes that made me smile. Especially the Pride and Prejudice and Zombies memes he keeps sending. It’s the only Pride and Prejudice movie adaptation I haven’t seen, and he thinks sending me funny memes from the movie will sway me to watch it. It’s a good strategy because some of them have me laughing out loud.
Evening comes far too quickly. I keep my engagement ring turned around to keep anyone from spying it. At least Lois hasn’t told Mom about the engagement or I would have already heard about it. Instead, I suffer the angry looks my sister keeps shooting me as we prepare dinner in stifled silence. She loves to do this—refusing to be the first one to talk. It’s a game she’s played since we were younger. And I always cave.
Not today. I can’t waste the little energy I have on a battle I’ll never win.
We set the last plate on the table as the doorbell rings. I suck in a refortifying breath, reminding myself this is the right decision. For me, at least.
Bram assured me that he was getting something out of it, too, but the fear and uncertainties keep running through my mind. Will he someday regret marrying me? Will he grow cold and bitter toward me? Not even having the thread of friendship we share now?
My hands tremble as I hear Grayson say hi to Bram. Lois crosses her arms and glares at me. Rolling my eyes, I turn away, heading into the other room to greet everyone.
Bram’s gaze lands on me as soon as I step into the room. His brow creases as he makes his way to me. “Are you feeling better?” His eyes take in my face as if he’s looking for a sign that I’m not up for tonight. Is he hoping I’m not? Or just concerned?
“Yeah, like I said earlier, I’m feeling much better today.”
The worry lines fall from his forehead and he smiles softly, relieving some of the tension from my shoulders.
“Good,” he replies, before glancing around and lowering his voice. “Do you want to do this before or after we eat?”
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I look around the room. The only person watching us is Ella, but she has no idea the dynamics between everyone yet. Still, she has a curious mind, and she’s studying us intently at the moment.
“I need to go take my insulin before we eat. So, maybe we can do it during?”
He nods and rubs his neck. “Do you need any help? I’m not sure what all is needed for your injections.”
“It’s not fun. But it’s also not a big deal either. I’m getting used to stabbing myself several times a day,” I reply dryly.
“I wish you didn’t have to go through this, Q.” His voice holds so much sincerity and sadness that I can’t help but place my hand on his cheek.
“I’m okay, Bram.” I drop my hand before I get the crazy idea of letting it roam across the planes of his incredibly handsome face.
The yearning to do just that overwhelms me as his gray eyes pierce mine. Turning away to get my insulin, I swallow over the lump in my throat. What in the world is wrong with me? When did touching Bram become so easy? And when did I start finding myself attracted to him?
About forty-five minutes later, we’re all gathered around the table, eating and laughing with one another. Actually, I’m watching everyone else eat and laugh. I’ve eaten enough to keep my sugar from dipping too much, but my insides are twisting into so many knots that if I take one more bite, I might be sick.
Bram sits beside me, shaking his leg incessantly. I’ve found myself touching his knee more than once to calm him. Each time, he glances at me as if I’ve scalded him. I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing.
Clearing his throat, Bram subtly reaches for my hand under the table and squeezes it. I guess it’s showtime.
I inhale a deep breath, trying to push every doubt and fear away. But it seems like no matter what I do, they keep popping up. It’s worse than playing whack-a-mole.
Bram clears his throat again, a little louder this time. Conversation fades as everyone turns their eyes to Bram and me.
I squirm under their probing gazes. Bram tightens his hold on my hand, and I find myself squeezing back. Here goes nothing. Or everything, depending on how you look at it.
“Umm . . . so . . . I . . . we . . .” Bram stutters, red creeping up his face.
“Bram and I are getting married,” I blurt out, lifting my hand to show off my ring that I’ve turned face out again.
Silverware crashes against plates, and there are a few gasps before everything implodes. A combination of voices rises, some sounding angry, some confused—all of them very, very loud.
Suddenly, a piercing whistle rents the air, and I flinch at the sound. David stands, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. “Why don’t we all calm down and let the kids talk, huh?”
Taking a chance, I glance around the table. Grayson, Miles, Mom, and GiGi are staring at us with jaws unhinged. It’s the reaction I expected. Lois has a haughty look about her. Nothing new there. And Cyrus and Titus . . . they remind me of the old Saturday morning cartoon characters. Arms crossed, brows raised, red creeping up their faces, and I swear there’s steam coming out of their ears.
My heart drops a little. I was not expecting that reaction from them, and it kind of stings. They aren’t staring at me, though. They’re glaring so hard at Bram that I half expect him to combust at any moment.
“Explain,” Titus demands of Bram.
Bram’s jaw clenches, and he stiffens beside me. “I don’t know what there is to explain, Ty. I asked Quinn to marry me. She said yes.”
Cyrus opens his mouth, “I think you know—”
“Stop,” David interjects, glancing at me with soft eyes. I tear up at the fatherly love shining there. I miss Dad so much right now and wish he could be here. “Quinn, do you want to marry Bram?”
The direct question throws me off, but only for a moment. I’m still clinging to Bram’s hand, so I give him what I hope is a comforting squeeze and nod my head. “Yes. I do.”
David smiles and turns his eyes to Bram. “And you, son? Do you want to marry Quinn?”
Maybe it’s only for show. Or maybe Bram knows I need a little more courage. Either way, I’m surprised when Bram glances over at me with a genuine smile, lifts my hand to his lips, and presses the lightest of kisses against the back. “Yes.”
David claps his hands together. “Then, it’s settled. You both have my blessing. GiGi? Ada?” He flicks his gaze to them.
Mom glances between Bram and me, wiping a tear from her eyes. “Of course, you have my blessing. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have marry my daughter.”
I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. I know Mom doesn’t mean it as a slight to Chad. But . . . well, it comes across that way. And I know Lois hears it too given the way she huffs in the corner.
“I always wanted a daughter,” GiGi says, smiling at me. “I’m glad it’s going to be you, Quinn.”
Now I’m definitely tearing up. I try to pull myself together before the waterworks start when Lois asks, “Have you set a date yet?”
I straighten my shoulders, preparing myself to go head-to-head with my sister. Why is her tone so belittling? She has no room to question my life decisions. Or how quickly we’re going to get married.
“Saturday,” Bram replies to her, his voice hesitating just the slightest. Wrapping his arm around me, he squeezes my shoulder. It should be comforting, but it seems more like he’s sending me a distress call.
“We don’t want anything fancy or big,” I add, hoping to avoid any more questions over the quickness of it all.
Lois snorts, earning a scolding look from Chad that can only be described as, “Shut up before you make things worse.” Of course, Lois does what she wants and completely ignores him.
“Are you pregnant, Quinn?” She gives me a pointed look, her arms crossing as if she’s superior to me in every way while Chad sits beside her, red creeping up his neck.
Bram chokes on his drink as Mom gasps and Cyrus snorts then mutters where only a few of us can hear—including Lois, “Are you?”
GiGi clears her throat, her eyes darting between Bram and me. “Well, at least they’d make pretty babies.” Bram stiffens, his hand tightening around my shoulder.
I stare at my plate, holding my tongue. If I open my mouth to defend myself, I’ll spill all of her dirty laundry in front of the Baxters and her new husband. She has a lot of nerve asking me that particular question.
In the end, it’s Grayson who speaks up. “That’s real rich coming from someone who ran off and got married without telling anyone.” His voice rises and his face reddens as he stands, pointing an accusing finger at a stunned Lois. I’ve never seen Grayson raise his voice. To anyone. Let alone one of us.
“First of all, Quinn would never do something like that. Ever.” He narrows his eyes as he speaks. Yeah, Grayson knows about Lois’s time in college, too. “Second of all, Quinn hasn’t had the time to take care of herself. She’s always working or driving us where we need to be. She comes home and cooks and cleans before falling into bed exhausted every evening while you’ve been off doing who knows what for months. In fact, I’m glad she’s getting married so soon. Maybe she’ll actually get some time for herself to do something she wants to do.”
My jaw hangs open as he sits down. Tears wet my cheeks. I didn’t know anyone was aware of all I do. Not that I’ve ever wanted recognition for it. But a small, tiny break every now and then would be lovely. Grayson’s words warm me. It feels nice to be seen for once.
“Just so there is absolutely no question about it,” Bram says through gritted teeth, his thumb rubbing circles over my shoulder. “No. Quinn is not pregnant. And we are getting married. And we’re doing so on Saturday. Now, if anyone wants to hear our plans and help us prepare, we’d love to discuss them with you. If you don’t want to be included”—Bram pauses, narrowing his eyes at his brothers and then Lois—“I would ask that you excuse yourselves from the discussion.”
Everyone stays, even Lois, and by the end of dinner, we have our wedding plans set. Our parents, Grayson, and Miles seem elated. Jovie is excited about being the flower girl, and Ella is neutral on the subject. Which is to be expected since she hasn’t been here long.
“Ella,” I glance at her. “Not that I’ve been nosey, but I have heard you singing a few times, and you have a beautiful voice. Would you want to sing at the wedding?”
Her eyes brighten even as a soft pink flush falls across her cheeks. “You really want me to?”
“Of course.” Bram offers her a smile. The blush deepens under Bram’s attention.
“Yeah. That might be fun,” she says, trying to appear calm and collected.
Titus, Cyrus, and Lois help with planning, but they seem concerned. Well, the twins seem concerned. Lois simply seems angry. Why is she so angry? Concerned, I get. But angry? It doesn’t make sense.
David hugs me before they leave, whispering in my ear, “Welcome to the family, Quinn.”
GiGi follows up by saying, “I’m so happy, dear.”
Yeah, there’s no stopping the tears now.
One by one they all leave or go upstairs until it’s only Bram and me.
“Well.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “That was—”
“Horrible? Insane? Terrifying? Crazy?” I throw out.
Bram chuckles. “Yeah. All of those for sure. But also, a relief. It feels good to have everything out in the open now. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I suppose. I’ll just be ready for when it’s all over with.”
“Yeah. Well . . .” he hesitates, shuffling his feet. “Do you need help packing this week?”
I press my hand to my head. So much to do in such a short time. “I hadn’t even thought about it to be honest. I was just trying to get through this meal.”
“I don’t mean to keep asking, but are we still good with everything?” His expression is vulnerable, I can’t help but smile a little.
“Yes. I mean, I have plenty of fears and doubts. But I keep coming back to this being the right thing.” I meet his eyes shyly. “Us being the right thing.”
“Me too,” he says quietly, his gaze locking with mine. He seems to hesitate a moment, his eyes trailing over my face. Stepping forward, he lifts my chin with his finger and gazes deep into my eyes. I’m not sure what he’s looking to find there.
“This will all work out, Q,” he whispers, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss on my cheek. “You’ll see.”