Chapter 13
Jason
“Hey, John, pull over!” Layton yells, pointing out the window. From my angle in the back seat, I can’t tell what’s happening.
As the engine pulls to a stop, I unbuckle and quickly hop out, my boots splashing in overflowing drain water as I look around to see what all the commotion is about. Layton and John are running down the sidewalk to where Quinn is standing at the curb, ankle deep in mud. The curious part is what she’s doing.
“Jason, give us a hand,” John yells as he and Layton both grasp the power wheelchair with the tiny girl inside. “Lift on three, okay? One, two, three.” The chair is more awkward than heavy between the three of us. The radiant little girl with golden hair claps awkwardly as she grins widely at the three of us. Her smile is infectious.
“Oh, Quinn,” Layton groans.
I spin to find her covered in mud. Before I can think twice about it, I run over and lift her up. Carrying her over to a bench, I’m struck that her tantalizing vanilla scent completely overshadows any grime on her body. Placing her down, I carefully start removing her saturated left boot. It’s been several days since I saw her at the restaurant, but she’s played on a loop in my mind. Having her near, regardless of the reason, is almost calming.
“Oh, Jason. I can do that.”
Ignoring her because I couldn’t stop touching her right now even if I wanted to, I shift to remove her other boot. Her socks are damp, so I roll them off and attempt to dry her feet by rubbing them with my hands. The sight of her shiny red toenails shouldn’t be alluring. I don’t have a foot fetish. So why am I getting hard? Thank goodness I’m protected by my turnout gear. “Do you have another pair?” Despite my dick’s neanderthal behavior, I can’t fight this incessant need to protect her.
And who is this little girl? Does Quinn have a special needs daughter? Had it happened while she was away at college?
I know so little about this enigma of a woman who grew up when I wasn’t looking.
“No. But I only need to get Joy home. I’ll be okay.” Her voice is shaky and quiet.
“Nah, Quinn. We’ve got this. Right, Joy?” John teases. She smiles and makes a high-pitched shriek as Layton and John quickly get the chair down the sidewalk toward Quinn’s car. “I’ll get Joy in her car seat and then we can wipe down the wheels so you don’t ruin the trunk of your car.”
“You don’t have to go to all of that trouble.”
They both turn and playfully glare at her, and it warms my heart to see. Gathering Quinn in my arms, I carry her to the driver’s seat of her car. She arches a brow, and I know it’s become apparent that I can’t keep my hands off of her. Being this close is doing weird things to me. It’s that warm sugar vanilla floral concoction she wears. I swear it’s a modern-day Love Potion No. 9.
“In you go.” The sooner I get her out of here, the sooner I can get my fucking head back on straight. Out of the blue, I develop the oddest sensation in my chest. Rubbing concentric circles over my sternum, I try to ease the ache there. Is this heartburn? I need to lay off all the meatball subs. “Buckle up, buttercup.” I wink to combat how flustered I feel.
John taps the roof of the car. “Okay, doll. You’re all set.”
“Thanks, guys. I don’t know what we’d do without you. Right, Joy?”
The child’s name definitely suits her as she squeaks in glee.
Quinn pulls away, and we quietly head back to the engine. But before John can pull away, I can’t help myself. “I didn’t realize Quinn had a daughter.”
“She doesn’t. Joy’s Ian’s kid.”
My mouth instantly goes dry. I do the math and realize the child was probably conceived not long after our breakup.
Layton pipes in, “Ian’s a full-time single dad. He’s great with her. But Quinn and their dad try to help out where they can.”
My eyes lock with Layton’s, not knowing how to ask.
“She has cerebral palsy. She’s smart though. And the happiest kid you’ll ever meet.”
I refuse to say her name. “Her mother isn’t in the picture at all?”
“No.” Layton looks as if he wants to add more but thinks better of it. Knowing Corinne, she wants no part of a child that doesn’t fit her picture-perfect lifestyle. It should be comforting that I dodged that bullet. Because I don’t believe she has the capacity to love anyone if she can walk out on her own daughter.
John doesn’t hold back, however. “If you ask me, she did them a favor, leaving. Good riddance. Ian and Joy deserve better than the likes of that heartless, self-centered witch.”
The following day, I still can’t get the image of Joy and the story John and Layton shared from my mind. It’s replayed throughout the day as I’ve worked up a sweat, cutting down trees, attaching them to wooden bases for display on the farm, caring for the poinsettias, and winter plants in the greenhouse, and gathering wreaths to put by the front register. My mind has been a whirl of unexpected emotions.
Anger at his betrayal or not, my heart goes out to my old friend. Knowing what’s become of his life is causing an unease I wasn’t prepared for. I know divorce and raising a child alone weren’t in his plans for the future.
In search of additional garland to place near the register, I amble through the greenhouse for the umpteenth time today. Stroking the soft needles between my fingers, I close my eyes and inhale. Yet it’s not the aromatic pine I sense. It’s my mother’s presence here. She loved it so. Her dying so soon after moving here wasn’t in the plans, either.
Life moves so quickly. I need to find a way to push past my bitterness and enjoy it before it passes me by. “Speaking of which,” I say to myself as I wipe the sweat from my brow. Time to make use of the pool on this unusually warm fall day. Climbing into the golf cart, I ride it down the path to the other lot, hoping I can calm my mind and my body after a long day’s work.
As I walk to the pool’s edge, I can just make out my father as he walks away from my mother’s old greenhouse by the vegetable garden. Dad’s making steady progress. He’s able to get up and about, prepare easy meals, and perform many of his household chores. I can’t help but question whether I really need to stay. Yet given it’s prime season for the Christmas tree farm, I’m committed to doing the right thing.
Even if my constant exposure to Quinn Patterson is starting to take its toll.
Quinn
I know this is risky. Jason has already gotten testy with me for pushing on this. Putting my car in park, I retrieve my keys from the ignition, grab the takeout container from Just in Queso, and head toward Calvin’s front door.
Calvin Bristow and my dad have been close friends for years. Sure, even their relationship took a hit after my brother’s poor choices. Yet, as the dust settled, the two were able to put it behind them. And I’ve tried to do the same. I frequently visited Calvin’s place when I was home from college. Initially, it was because my father was there so often. I’d bring dinner or a treat and reminisce.
Eventually, he’d hired me to help with the Christmas tree farm on winter breaks. Yet, in all of that time, I never crossed paths with Jason. I could sense Calvin was lonely with Lacey and Jason so far away. Not that he’d ever admit it. So, I tried to check in on him whenever I could, whether Dad was here or not.
I’d never want him to think I’m taking advantage of the relationship we’ve built. Yet, I’m praying he’ll be able to encourage his son to help us with the calendar. Surely Calvin can see how much the Magnolia Point fire department could benefit from this.
Looking around, I don’t see Jason’s truck. Hopefully, I’ve planned this visit well and can avoid any further outbursts. I nervously knock on his door, silently willing my heart to calm the heck down.
“Quinn, my dear. What a pleasant surprise. Come on in.”
Following nervously behind him, I again worry I’ve taken this a step too far. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I deserve, young lady.” He grins. “With good friends like you and your dad, and my devoted son helping me out, I’m doing splendid.” Eyeing the food container, he gives me a broad smile. “Is that for me?” I nod. “You didn’t have to bring more food.” He shakes his head. “You’re too good to me, darlin.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Calvin places the food on his kitchen island before returning to his recliner. “Come, come, Quinn. Have a seat.”
I take a deep breath and decide to just dive headfirst. “Well, as you know, I’m working with Dad to try and increase tourism and bring some positive exposure to our beloved fire department. We’re working on a firefighter calendar. It’s all in good taste,” I quickly add. “I’m hoping we can sell a lot of these at the festival at the beginning of December.”
“Your dad mentioned you’d been working on some things, but I had no idea it would be this elaborate. He’s so proud of you, honey. And so am I. Why, you’re like an adopted daughter to me. Seeing you grow into such an accomplished woman does this old man’s heart good.”
“Well, I haven’t done much yet. There are a lot of wheels in motion.” I hesitate, hoping he’ll appreciate my plea in the spirit it’s intended. “I could use your help. We’re one month short for the calendar. And if push comes to shove, I guess I can use a shot of one of the pups to make December. But…”
“But a firefighter here on loan for a few weeks would be the better option.”
Nodding, I give him an imploring smile.
“I don’t have to tell you how stubborn my boy has become. I’m sorry for that. There was a time you wouldn’t have had to ask. He would’ve already volunteered his help.” Calvin scratches his chin in contemplation. “Why don’t you take Jason a drink?” He stands from his recliner, heads to the refrigerator, and grabs two bottles of lemonade. “He’s been working hard on the farm all day. See if you might have any luck winning him over?”
Ugh . I was hoping he’d win him over. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
“You can drive over if you like. Just down the dirt path.”
“Oh, it’s a beautiful, warm evening. I’ll walk.”
Heading out the back door, I take in the gorgeous flower and vegetable gardens as I make my way toward the path below. As I round the greenhouse toward the water, where their lot abuts the farm, the pool area comes into view. And so does Jason.
All of him.
I stand motionless, as if my feet are superglued to the ground below. He’s gloriously naked. All tall, tan, and covered in ink, he stands in profile at the pool’s edge as if about the dive in. His pecs and abs are what I imagined they’d be. So is that rock hard ass. His cock, however, is beyond my expectations. Even soft, it hangs long and thick between his legs.
With my mouth hanging open, I rapidly concoct an escape plan while he’s underwater to avoid embarrassment. However, as I start to rotate toward the house, Jason slowly turns his head in my direction.
And winks.
The following morning, I revel in dreams of my little town decorated for Christmas, visiting the Bristow family Christmas tree farm to pick out the perfect Carolina Sapphire Cypress. Taylor Swift’s “Christmas Tree Farm” is the perfect backdrop to my fantasy. I hum as I drag my fingertips along the soft spikes of the available options, the scent of pine heavy in the air. Suddenly, Jason’s there offering to take the tree to my car. I beam as he winks down at me, his mouthwatering body on full display.
I spring up from my sheets, covered in sweat.
Holy Dickmas.
Snap out of this now, Quinn!