Chapter 22
Q uinn could feel himself getting more and more deeply entangled in his relationship with Delilah, but he didn’t feel much motivation to do anything about it.
Once you started doing things like decorating Christmas trees with someone, you were headed for serious relationship territory—there was no question about it. With most of the women he’d dated over the years, that would have been cause for panic and immediate evasive action.
With Delilah, though, he felt the strong urge to just let it happen. His only regret about his day of Christmas fun with the Ballard family was that he’d had to go home at the end of it.
The part where he’d offered to climb out the window in the morning hadn’t been his proudest moment as a man, but, hell, it would have been worth it if she’d said yes.
Even if the neighbors spotted him falling into the azaleas.
This thing was more work than most of his previous girlfriends had been—any time you got together with someone who had kids, it was more work—but he had the feeling Delilah was worth the effort.
When he got home that night, he went into his empty house, turned on the lights, then turned on some music—quietly enough that it wouldn’t disturb Mrs. Foster—but the place still felt sad and lonely without the noise and raucous activity of the Ballard family.
He went to the kitchen, got a beer out of the refrigerator, opened it, then sat on his sofa and drank a swallow.
He had to win her over, and he didn’t have a lot of time to do it. She was planning to go all the way across the country in less than a month unless he could give her a reason not to.
Or unless he could give her a reason to invite him to go with her.
Had it really come to that? Was he really thinking of picking up his life and traveling from one coast to another for a woman he’d just met?
Yes. Yes, he was.
It wasn’t like there was anything left for him here on the West Coast.
It wasn’t like his own family wanted anything to do with him. Well, they did, but only if he made it profitable for them. He wasn’t going to buy his family’s love, so where did that leave him?
It left him longing to be a part of something greater than himself. It left him wanting to have people who cared for him and for whom he could care in turn.
Ah, shit.
He knew it wasn’t healthy to be jumping into something so fast. Especially when there were kids involved—kids who’d already been hurt by their father and who didn’t need to be disappointed by a man in their lives again.
Except, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t disappoint them if they gave him a chance to show them the truth of who he was.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and texted Delilah.
I had a really great time today.
He watched his screen as he saw the notification that she’d read his message.
A moment later, the phone pinged with her response.
I did, too. Thank you for showing the boys a good time.
He thought about what to say and carefully composed the text.
It was my pleasure. Speaking of pleasure, when do you think we could have some time for just the two of us? I’m not done showing people a good time.
There was still a chance she’d pull back—still a chance she would distance herself from him. She’d been hurt badly and recently, and though none of that had been his fault, she had to be skittish. She had to be tempted to protect herself from anything resembling love.
Love.
Now that he’d thought the word, there was no escaping it.
When her text came in, he half expected it to be a brush-off. Instead, she wrote, I’ll see if I can get Dolly across the street to watch the boys one night this week.
I can’t wait, he wrote.
He really couldn’t—not if he wanted to win her over before January first. He didn’t have any time to waste.
Delilah kept telling herself to slow down. She couldn’t let this thing with Quinn get out of hand.
Still, the idea of having an evening alone with him was undeniably appealing. She called Dolly the next day, reassuring her that she could find another sitter if Dolly wasn’t up to watching the boys.
Dolly said she wouldn’t hear of it and immediately began planning what she was going to cook and what activities she and the kids might do when they were together.
With that taken care of, Delilah texted Quinn to decide which evening they’d go out.
As soon as possible, he wrote. It was hard to stay on my best behavior with the boys around.
It had been hard for Delilah, too, though she’d tried to pretend it wasn’t.
They set the time and day, and Delilah told Dolly and the boys about her plans. Well, she didn’t tell them all of her plans.
Some parts were better kept private.
“This Quinn thing is getting out of control,” Delilah told Roxanne on the phone the day before her date. “I mean, it was just supposed to be fun. But now he’s buying Christmas trees and taking us for s’mores, and … and taking me out on dates.”
“Horrors,” Roxanne said.
“Be serious. This is serious!”
“If you’re that worried about it, why did you agree to go out with him again?” Roxanne’s point was a good one, and Delilah didn’t have a good answer.
“It’s just … I don’t know. I’m having a good time, and I haven’t had a good time in so long I’ve forgotten what it’s like.”
“Well, there you go.”
Delilah was irritated that her sister didn’t seem to realize how dire the situation was. Maybe if she brought Mitch into it, that would give things the sense of impending doom that they deserved.
“Jesse told Mitch about Quinn,” she said.
“Oops.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what happened? How did he react?”
“He said he doesn’t want his sons hanging out with, and I quote, ‘some random asshole.’”
“So much better that they should hang out with him, the asshole we know,” Roxanne said.
“That’s pretty much what I said.”
Then Roxanne asked the question that had been on Delilah’s mind since Mitch had called.
“I mean, do you think he’s going to do anything?”
“He said, ‘We’ll just see about that.’ About Quinn being in the boys’ lives. So, it really sounded like he plans to do something.”
“Or he could just be trying to intimidate you,” Roxanne said.
If he’d still been living near Delilah—hell, if he’d still been living on the same continent—she might have worried more about what Mitch might do regarding Quinn. But he couldn’t make trouble for her all the way from Paris.
Could he?
“He’s a lawyer,” Delilah pointed out. “A really good one. The kind big corporations hire to help them screw the IRS. If he can screw the IRS, Roxanne, he can probably make trouble for me if he wants to.”
“He doesn’t really want to,” Roxanne reassured her. “He just wants to bluster around and make noise so you’ll do whatever he wants. He’s a bully, that’s all.”
Delilah hoped she was right and that his veiled threat wouldn’t come to anything. He didn’t want Delilah anymore—he’d made that clear. And he didn’t want his sons in his life, either, because if he did, he wouldn’t have moved thousands of miles away from them.
What could he possibly hope to gain from fighting her on this?
“You see what I mean?” Delilah asked her sister. “This whole thing is a can of worms.”
“Delilah. If you don’t want to date this guy, then don’t do it. But don’t you dare let him go because a weasel like Mitch is trying to intimidate you. And, while I’m at it, don’t you dare let him go because you’re scared to take a chance. I raised you better than that.”
“You’re two years younger than me,” Delilah pointed out.
“Whatever. I’m still right.”