Chapter Thirty-Three
Bram
S omething soft and warm rolls against me, waking me from my sleep. I open my eyes to find Quinn’s body molded to mine. Her soft breathing fans my naked chest and sends a rush of fire throughout my body. I allow myself a moment to soak in the feeling as I watch her. She looks so peaceful as the corner of her mouth lifts in the faintest of smiles.
Her black locks cascade over her bare shoulder, and I take a piece in my hands, rubbing the soft strands between my fingers. I long to give in to the temptation to wrap my arms tighter around her and trail my fingers through her hair and along her cool skin. To kiss every inch of her. Again.
But an image of her weeping in my arms as she confessed about her dad’s death has guilt flooding my veins and twisting my insides. I rub a hand down my face. The memories of last night are etched into my brain forever. Bile rises in my throat.
What have I done?
As gently as I can, I slip out of bed, trying not to wake her. Everything in me is screaming for me to stay, but I need to clear my head before she wakes.
What will I say to her? Will she be angry that I took advantage of her at her most vulnerable moment? She came to me scared and grieving, and while I know she was seeking comfort, I could have simply held her all night. I should have been able to resist having sex with her until we could have a discussion about what we both want.
Slipping on my swim trunks, I quietly head outside. My mind is too unsettled to sit still. The lap of the ocean waves calls to me as I grab my board from the storage building. Strolling down to the beach, I inhale the salty, fresh air.
The morning is calm. Stars twinkle in the sky and the crescent moon shines down on me. Unlike the storm that raged last night. My mind drifts back to Quinn’s confession about Lois and the guilt they’ve both carried all of these years. Sucking in a ragged breath, I step into the water. As I paddle out toward the waves, I try to focus my energy on the water’s movement instead of how royally I screwed up. It doesn’t help. I can’t stop thinking about it, remorse pressing heavier and heavier upon my chest.
What had I been thinking? Not that I didn’t want Quinn. I did. I do. But I took advantage of her during her heartache. It doesn’t matter that she initiated it. Practically begged me to stay. I should have been strong enough to know it wasn’t the right time. Do I regret sleeping with my wife? Never. I can’t bring myself to regret the beautiful moment between us. But I do regret the timing of it all. Heck, we haven’t even said we love each other yet.
The thought sours my stomach.
I admit my feelings for Quinn have deepened into something more than friendship. Changing into something richer. Last night wasn’t about lust. Our time together meant something to me.
But am I in love with her?
Lifting onto my board to catch the next wave, I let the question roll around in my mind as I ride the wave until I come up with the only explanation that makes sense.
I don’t even know what love is.
For years I was in love with Lois—or so I thought—but it turns out that the Lois I loved didn’t even exist.
Now I’m married to a woman who I care greatly for, but I’m not sure I can say I’m in love with her. It’s different from what I once felt for Lois. And those differences only confuse me more.
Time slips away from me as I lose myself in the rhythm of the waves beneath my board. I pray the entire time for clarity on how to handle this situation. I need to talk to her. That much I know.
I’m so deep into my thoughts, I haven’t realized that the sun has risen. Panic sweeps over me as I frantically paddle towards shore. I pray that she’s still asleep. I shouldn’t have left her to wake up alone. A stab of regret hits me thinking about her waking up to find I abandoned her after everything that happened between us last night.
My jaw tightens, and I groan. I’m such an idiot.
After hurriedly putting my board away, I step inside the cottage, the cool air hitting my bare chest makes me shiver.
“Quinn?” I call out, walking toward the kitchen where I can hear a low voice talking. I expect to see Quinn on the phone, but instead, I’m greeted by the sight of Quinn and Lois chatting over cups of coffee while Jovie eats a muffin. Lois arches an eyebrow at me as Quinn’s face turns bright pink.
Yeah, I probably should have grabbed a shirt, but I didn’t expect to find Lois sitting at my kitchen bar.
Clearing my throat, I rub my hand over the back of my hot neck. “Oh, umm . . . hey Lois. Hey, Jovie Bovie.”
“Hi,” Lois replies, an odd expression on her face.
“Hi, Bram,” Jovie says with a wide grin. At least someone is treating me normally.
I cross my arms across my chest, feeling completely exposed. Quinn’s gaze tracks the movement, settling on my chest, her cheeks turning an even deeper red.
Huh. That’s interesting.
Finally, her eyes meet mine, and she quickly turns away when she notices I caught her staring.
Very interesting.
A smile threatens to turn loose, but I hold it back. Now’s not the time.
“Quinn, can I talk to you for a minute?” I incline my head toward the bedrooms. She bites her lip and nods. Turning, I walk out of the room, my nerves making my chest tighten.
In my bedroom, I wait until Quinn is inside before shutting the door behind her. She fidgets with her fingers, not meeting my eyes. I scratch my jaw, trying to figure out what exactly to say. Maybe I should have waited until we didn’t have company, but if I don’t say something now, I know I’ll lose my nerve.
“Quinn, I’m sorry,” I say, remorse tainting my voice.
Her gaze snaps to mine, an unreadable expression on her face. I wait a moment for her to say something, anything, but when she doesn’t, I continue. “I . . . umm . . . last night”—I sigh, wishing I could take back the events of the last twelve hours. Okay, maybe not take them back, but at least have a candid conversation with her before we took that step. “I’m sorry.”
Something flickers in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can fully decipher it. “Okay,” she replies quietly.
“Are-are we okay?” I resist the urge to reach out to her.
She gives a crisp nod. “Yeah. Of course. It’s fine. Peachy,” her voice wobbles, and I tilt my head.
“Peachy?”
Giving me a shaky smile, she nods again. “Yes, everything is peachy, Bram. Just . . . peachy.”
“Listen, can we—”
“I gotta go,” she interjects, moving toward the door.
“Go?” My breath constricts.
“Yeah. Lois, Julie, and I are taking Jovie to the spa today. Remember?”
A vague memory of her telling me about their girls’ day flashes through my mind. “Oh, yeah. Right.”
She dips her head and dashes for the door, not even saying goodbye. I’m not sure why, but I have the strange sense that I just royally screwed everything up. Again.