Chapter Thirty-One
Bram
“ D o you really want to do this here?” Cyrus asks, raising an eyebrow.
I glance around the room. Quinn is talking to Mrs. Graham, and Lois is chatting with Mom while Chad—I’m finally learning not to call him Lord Chadwick—is talking to Dad.
“Follow me.” I turn around and storm off without waiting for him to respond. I know he’ll follow.
We slip into an empty bedroom, and I close the door behind him, crossing my arms. “Is it true?”
Rubbing his neck, he looks at me, guilt written all over his face. “Bram, it was a long time ago.”
A small part of me wants to punch him. Okay, maybe a medium-sized part. But he’s right. It was a long time ago, and so much has changed. But I still need to know.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I was a drunk high schooler. There wasn’t a reason.”
“There had to have been a reason you specifically picked Lois.”
“I was jealous of you,” he replies with a sigh.
“What? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s true. You were off in college, experiencing the big city, while I was stuck at home with the same people I’d known since I was born. I’d just been turned down by two of the college teams I wanted to play hockey for, and I was angry.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, you’re right. It was dumb. But I felt like maybe I could have a moment of the college life you were living. And . . . you’d been a jerk to me that day and I thought it would be a bonus to get you back by kissing her.”
“I wasn’t a jerk,” I protest.
He levels a look at me. “Bram, you aren’t now, but back then you had a way of making everyone around you feel small. Especially me. You’ve always been a natural leader. You gain people’s trust and respect without even trying. And anyone who couldn’t do that, you looked down on.”
My hands fall to my sides as his words soak in. Rubbing a hand down my face, I inhale deeply. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Cyrus smirks, but his watery eyes betray him. “Well. I never thought I’d hear the day when you apologized to me.”
I roll my eyes before asking the question that makes me sick to my stomach. “Did . . . umm . . . did you and Lois . . . ” I trail off, unable to finish the question.
Cyrus’s face reddens, but he shakes his head. “No. No. It was only kissing. But I am sorry, Bram. I did it out of spite, and I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s all water under the bridge now. I just”—I pinch the bridge of my nose—“I had no idea that Lois—”
“You saw what you wanted to see, Bram,” he interjects, his voice laced with sympathy. “If anyone tried saying something about it, you shut them down.”
“What? No, I didn’t.”
Cyrus raises a brow. “Titus tried talking to you after our visit. Do you remember that?”
My brow wrinkles as I try to think back. The memories are fuzzy, but I do recall Titus insinuating something about Lois. And I did exactly what Cyrus claims. I shut him down and refused to even entertain the idea of Lois being less than perfect.
“Yeah, maybe.” The realization stings. I’d hoped Cyrus would deny everything. That he would tell me Quinn had misunderstood or remembered it incorrectly. But now that he’s confirmed what Quinn told me, I can’t help but wonder . . .
Did I ever know Lois at all?
I pace inside our onsite trailer, running a frustrated hand through my hair. My men have worked hard all day, but I can’t seem to get my head on straight enough to do anything but worry about the woman currently working in the other building.
The last few days have been a seesaw of emotions and frustrations. Quinn and I are still avoiding one another after that awkward night when Lawrence ruined our perfect date. I’m not sure how to move forward without admitting to her everything I’d once felt for Lois. Plus, Quinn seems to have retreated into herself. She’s quieter than normal and seems to be staying busier than ever. The few times we are together—mostly in the evenings—are laced with awkward tension.
I hate it, and I’m not sure what I can do to make it better. To get us out of this weird place we’re stuck in. I miss our easy conversations over breakfast every morning. I miss the sound of Quinn’s laugh. I miss our movie nights and morning walks on the beach.
My feelings for Quinn are growing by the day, and the things I used to feel for Lois have dissipated. I care about her as a person and a friend, and always will, but the longing for her has completely vanished.
Quinn exits the center, and I lean closer to my office window to see if I can catch a glimpse of her. She’s smiling and chatting with her co-worker, Carly. My chest tightens seeing her easy smile. She hasn’t thrown one of those at me since her birthday.
The two say their goodbyes, and just before she slips into her car, Quinn glances in my direction, a slight frown on her face. I jerk away from the window, afraid of being caught. A moment later I hear her tires crunching on the gravel and a keen sense of disappointment rolls over me that she didn’t come over to see me. Of course, I ducked out of the window instead of smiling and waving at her like a normal husband would do.
When I arrive home that evening, I sit in my truck for a few minutes.
God, help me to love my wife. Help me to win her heart. And fill me with love for her.
Sighing, I step out of my truck, my heart feeling heavy with the weight of it all.
“Oh, good. You’re home.” Mrs. Graham’s voice comes from her porch. I glance up and see a look of concern creasing her wrinkled face.
“Is everything okay?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I was just getting ready to go check on that lovely wife of yours. I thought I heard her crying.”
My heart pounds hard against my ribcage. “I’ll take care of it, thanks,” I call as I bound up the steps, worst-case scenarios rushing across my mind. Was she hurt?
“Quinn!”
Sniffling comes from the dining room, and I rush inside. Quinn looks completely disheveled. Tears stream down her face, and her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy. She’s been crying for a while.
“Q,” I whisper, kneeling beside her and taking her clammy hand in my own. “What’s wrong, sunshine?” She turns grief-stricken eyes to me, and my heart constricts with the pain I see.
“Th-they,” her voice chokes on a sob. “They’re taking Jovie away.”
The breath whooshes out of me. I hadn’t expected her to say that. “What?”
She waves a frustrated hand in the air. “They’re giving her back to her dad. They say he’s doing amazing.” Scoffing, she turns back to me. “What am I going to do without my girl, Bram?”
Fresh tears pour down her cheeks, and I wrap my arms around her, tugging her onto my lap on the floor. She buries her face in my neck and weeps as I stroke her hair. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and my throat tightens. The news shakes me as well. We all love Jovie.
After a few minutes, Quinn’s sobs stop though she still sniffles. She lifts her head and wipes the tears from her face. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t,” I say firmly. “You’re allowed to be upset, Quinn. I’m upset, too.”
A shuddering breath leaves her body, and her lips tremble. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and draw her toward me. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I whisper, “We will get through this. Okay?” I don’t remind her this was always a possibility. She needs comfort right now.
She nods, but her shoulders sag.
“Have you checked your blood sugar?” I don’t know how long she’s been here crying, but I know she probably hasn’t even thought about taking care of herself. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten an alert on my phone, so it shouldn’t be too low.
“No,” she replies, her voice hoarse from the crying.
Lifting her from my lap, I stand and grasp her hand, tugging her up. I press another kiss to her forehead. “Sit down on the couch and check your app. I’ll go get your insulin.”
Nodding mutely, she heads toward the living room. After grabbing her supplies, I leave her on the couch while she checks everything. In her bathroom, I find coconut wash and bubble bath. Her bathroom has a tub, but the tub in mine is bigger and has jets. I take her things there and draw a bath, making sure to pour the coconut wash in so it can bubble up. The room fills with the scent I’m coming to love.
When I enter the living room, she’s removing the needle from her stomach. I stop in my tracks. I haven’t seen her giving herself insulin, and the sight makes me want to gather her in my arms again. Not that I can protect her from diabetes, but at least I can offer her support.
Her gaze catches mine, and she gives a shaky smile. Putting her insulin away, she runs a hand through her hair. “I’m a mess.”
I touch her arm, drawing her attention back to me. “You’re not a mess, Q.” I want to say more. To hold her and kiss away the pain. But now isn’t the time. Right now I need to take care of her.
Taking her hand, I lead her down the hallway. Her forehead wrinkles as we enter my room.
“Bram?” Her voice is confused and hesitant.
I point to my bathroom door. “I drew you a bubble bath. Go relax for a while. I’ll take care of supper.”
Her eyes widen in surprise as she glances between me and the bathroom door. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I smile, cupping her face with one hand. “I know. I wanted to.” Stroking my thumb across her smooth skin, I lean down and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. It’s not enough, and I find myself wanting more as I use all my willpower to straighten. “Go on.”
When Quinn emerges from the bathroom almost an hour later, she appears more relaxed even though her eyes are still puffy and flash with sadness. She examines the counter and offers me a small smile.
“Take out?”
I lift the bag. “Peach Beach Chinese at its finest. I hope that’s okay.”
“Absolutely. I love Chinese food.”
Which is exactly why I ordered it. “Want to eat in the living room while we watch a movie?”
“Sure. What movie did you have in mind?”
“ Pride and Prejudice and Zombies ,” I say with a sly smile.
Quinn’s eyes narrow. “Try again.”
A chuckle rumbles through my chest. “Okay, fine. How about Little Women ?” I know it’s her favorite book and movie.
“Which version?”
I roll my eyes dramatically. “1994, of course. Winona Ryder slays in that movie.”
She snorts and her hand covers her mouth. Could she be any more adorable?
We make our way to the living room and turn the movie on. Once we’re done eating, she checks her blood sugar again before leaning back on the couch. A ghost of a smile plays on her face, but I can see the tight lines around her eyes.
I pat my lap, and she looks over at me, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “What?”
“Give me your feet.”
She glances at my lap, then back to my face. “Why?”
Narrowing my eyes, I reply, “Just trust me, sunshine.”
The apples of her cheeks turn pink as she slides to the other end of the couch and carefully places her feet on my lap. I wrap my hands around them, only then realizing that she has shorts on, and I have easy access to her legs. Her very nice legs.
Gulping over my suddenly dry throat, I turn my attention back to the TV. She groans as my hands knead the soles of her feet.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she whispers, and my gaze flicks to her. She has her head back and eyes closed.
I smirk. “You’re missing the movie, you know.”
Popping one eye open, she glares at me. “I can still hear it. You just keep working your magic there.” She waves a hand at her feet.
“Magic, huh?” I tease.
“Mmhmm,” she mumbles, and I chuckle to myself.
After a moment, I trail one hand up the back of her leg, massaging her calf. She hums in appreciation, and I don’t miss the goosebumps that spread across her legs. It makes me want to learn every little noise she makes. I clear my throat and force the images away, focusing on what Quinn needs at the moment. Which is to be taken care of while she processes this change in her life.
“I didn’t think it would happen,” she whispers. My hand stops as I wait for her to continue. “I mean, reunification is the goal when you foster,” she continues. “But I just . . . I didn’t think they’d take Jovie from me.”
“I know.”
“I’ve had her since she was a year old.”
I resume the massage, letting her talk it out.
“Mom may have taken all the classes and was her official guardian, but Jovie has been mine from day one.” She leans up a little. “Did you know she slept in my bed every night for two years? Then after that, she would still climb in bed with me a few times a week.”
My fingers brush up and down her leg gently. “You’ve done an amazing job with her, Quinn.”
She sniffs, turning her gaze away from me. “I wanted to adopt her,” she admits quietly. “I know it’s stupid, and I probably shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, but I honestly thought her dad would sign over his rights, and then I could become her mom.” Wiping her fingers under her eyes, she lets out a shaky breath. “The thing is, Jovie healed me. Caring for her and raising her was the only thing that helped me after Dad died. I love Mom, but she was too deep in her grief to see anything or anyone else. And Lois . . . well, we know how that went.”
The pain in her voice twists my heart with guilt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “No one knew. Mom managed to put on a fake smile, and I kept everything running behind the scenes. Everyone thought we were adjusting as well as could be expected. I’m not sure even GiGi saw through it.”
Unable to resist any longer, I drop her feet from my lap and scoot closer to her. I cradle her face in my hands. “You’ve taken care of everyone for so long, Quinn.” I stare into her bright eyes, admiration for this incredible woman coursing through me. “Who’s been taking care of you?” I kiss her on the forehead, remaining there a moment to soak in her tropical scent before giving in to my desire and pulling her onto my lap. Warmth expands through my chest as she snuggles in and rests her head in the crevice of my neck.
“You have,” she says in a soft voice.