Chapter 5
five
QUYNH
Q uynh’s eyes snapped open as she became aware of three things at once. The first was that she was not in her apartment. The second, she was naked under the sheets.
She didn’t normally sleep in the nude, but she was so exhausted after the events of the past couple of days, and coupled with letting all of her emotions out in the shower, she was completely wrung out. She must have just crawled into bed and passed out.
The third thing was the loud and angry knocking at the front door.
The knocking sounded again as she bolted upright in bed, tits perky in the morning’s chill air.
She scanned the room and found the oversized shirt she’d left on top of her suitcase with the full intention of putting it on before bed.
Scrambling out of bed, she ran to get the shirt and put it on as she raced toward the front door.
There could only be one person knocking at this hour. She yanked the door open just as the knocking resumed again and met the angry glare head-on. Squaring her shoulders and clearing her throat, she glared right back at the hot-tempered mechanic.
“Yes?” She leaned into the edge of the door and tried to ignore the way her skin pebbled underneath her shirt.
Quynh didn’t think it was possible, but she swore Griffin’s glare intensified as if the mere sight of her incensed him.
“Do you always answer the door in just a shirt?”
His growl sent shivers through her body, and she knew he could probably see her nipples pebble in response to his tone.
“Of course I do.” She couldn’t resist pushing his buttons.
He glowered at her for another moment, the muscle in his jaw feathering, and his nostrils flared.
“Was there something you needed…? I was having a really good dream before you woke me up.”
“Your car is downstairs.”
“Oh.” She straightened up as she was reminded of the reason she was here in the first place.
“I have an order to finish up first, but I’ll take a look under the hood to see what’s happening.”
“Oh, thank you.” A blush crept up her neck at his generosity. Here she was, being ungrateful when all he’d done was help her when she didn’t even deserve it.
She fought the urge to fidget. She had on just the T- shirt. Belatedly, she wished she’d at least put on a bra or panties. Hell, even a bathrobe would have her less exposed than she was at that moment.
Griffin cleared his throat, and she glanced up from beneath her lashes. He no longer looked as angry, but the frown was still present on his handsome face.
“I didn’t have your number. Otherwise, I would have texted instead of waking you up.”
She offered him a small smile at the concession.
“I really appreciate it. Thank you.”
At her words, his eyes softened. His green eyes were especially striking in the early morning light.
She tried to ignore the way his tightly fitted Henley clung to his muscled chest. His hair still looked damp from his shower this morning, and he’d trimmed his beard.
She should not have noticed how his dark jeans and boots made him look absolutely delicious, like a wet dream standing on her doorstep.
It would be so easy to jump into his arms and demand he take her to bed. Right now. It wouldn’t take much since she wasn’t wearing any panties. All he needed to do was take his cock out of his tight jeans and…
Quynh jumped when Griffin coughed. Fuck, she must be tired if she was imagining climbing the grumpy man like a tree and mounting him like a cat in heat.
Her libido was out of control.
She stepped back involuntarily as if the small distance would keep her from acting on her impulsive thoughts. She watched as Griffin raised an arm and ran his hand through his hair, muscles flexing with the movement.
“If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”
He left without waiting for her response.
She realized belatedly he probably caught her checking him out. Shutting the door a little more forcefully than necessary, Quynh stood with her forehead pressed to the hard surface. Groaning, she smacked her head against the wooden door a few times and prayed it would knock some sense into her.
She needed coffee.
And pants would probably help.
T he sun was fully out by the time Quynh found suitable pants to venture out of her temporary lodging in search of life’s essence: coffee.
She’d done a quick search on her phone and found a small cafe just a few minutes away on foot.
Quynh found the nerve to text Ruth to see if she’d be up to meet her there for the day.
The coffee shop was located right on Main Street.
Quynh smiled at the catchy name, Sip Happens.
The tantalizing aromas of freshly brewed coffee beckoned her to enter.
Bells chimed as she walked into the small but homey space.
The shop boasted modern decor with Art Déco vibes throughout.
The colors were a muted blend of neutral and earthy tones.
And there, shining like a beacon, were the multiple, no doubt expensive, coffee brewing contraptions which kept her sustained throughout most of her adult life.
Quynh before coffee and Quynh after coffee were two very different people.
Many people have not had the misfortune of meeting the former.
Usually, by the time she’d stepped foot out of her apartment, she’d consumed at least two cups of coffee and was well on to her third.
It’s what kept her awake and alert as she powered through her workday.
But today, she did not have work to worry about. No, something far worse awaited her. A potential meeting with her estranged stepsister, whom she’d only ever met a couple of times before. Unfortunately, none of those instances were on good terms.
Quynh didn’t blame Ruth for disliking her.
Hell, she’d probably hate herself, too, if she were in Ruth’s shoes.
The scandal rocked the neighborhood when the truth came out was enough to send her to therapy for several years.
Thankfully, she learned some healthy coping mechanisms. Well, healthy according to her own scale.
Sure, she was probably a workaholic who buried herself in work and caring for others instead of caring for herself.
Quynh did not kid herself into thinking she was unique.
Many healthcare workers often experience compassion fatigue when they spend their whole lives and careers caring for other people.
It left little time or energy to ensure self-care.
She would never change a single thing about the past few years.
She had plenty of regrets, though. Devoting her entire life to her career and caring for her ailing mother in her final years of life meant little time for dating.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she had sex.
It wouldn’t surprise her if there were actual cobwebs sealing her shut with its years of neglect.
But, first, coffee.
She’d realized she’d been standing in the coffee shop’s doorway, staring longingly at the menu for an inappropriately long time, judging by the uncomfortable look on the young barista’s face.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Quynh approached the counter with a bright smile she hoped didn’t make her look deranged at this hour and before coffee.
“What can I get you?” Jodie said, her name tag displaying her name.
“Can I please have a large quadruple shot caramel latte with extra pumps of caramel, please?” She almost sighed at the thought of the rejuvenating nectar as it was about to enter her bloodstream.
She really should see if they made caffeine in intravenous form and just have the damn thing injected straight into her body instead of having to drink a large coffee multiple times a day.
“Sure thing.” Quynh paid for her coffee and left a generous tip. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.”
Quynh ambled off and found a seat just outside of the sun’s reach by the window.
She loved to people-watch but didn’t care to be in direct sunlight.
At her age, the sun’s damage to her skin would be irreversible.
Besides, she rarely even needed to try for her brown skin to tan.
Her body loved the sun, and she loved sunscreen. It was a win-win.
When Jodie came over with her coffee, Quynh wrapped her cold hands around the hot cup and relaxed.
This was her favorite part of the day. The quiet moments between getting her day started were precious to her.
All too soon, she’d have to hit the road running.
Most days, she barely had time to eat, choosing to work through her lunches so she could fit in more patients, but also because the administrative tasks never seemed to end.
There never seems to be a stop to the amount of notes to sign, prescriptions to refill, phone calls to return, results to review, etc.
If she hadn’t loved what she did day in and day out, Quynh probably would have found a different job a long time ago. But helping people who live in chronic pain gave her a sense of satisfaction no other specialty would, even if it was emotionally and mentally draining. It was worth it.
Or, at least, it was what she told herself.
Quynh checked her phone after a few fortifying sips of her coffee. The sweet flavor of the caramel danced across her taste buds. She imagined the caffeine as it flowed through her body and woke up all of her sleepy brain cells. She was already more awake in the short time she sat there.
No new messages on her phone, but it looked like Ruth saw her text, judging by the read receipt.
She wished she’d brought a book with her.
There was no rush to do anything today, considering her car would not be ready until later, anyway.
She’d have to take a walk down the strip and find the bookstore she’d seen when they drove in last night.
The cafe was relatively quiet as people came and went as they started off their day.
It seemed to be a pretty popular spot, with friendly locals.
She stuck out like a sore thumb. She didn’t recognize anyone who came in and didn’t expect to.
It had been so long since she was last here, and she was just a kid.
The bell above the door chimed again as a woman entered. Quynh didn’t pay it any mind until she noticed the scowling woman approaching her table. She straightened up as the woman hovered over her.
“Quynh?” the stranger said .
“Um, yes, that’s me.”
“You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Taken aback by her haughty and angry tone, Quynh looked over at the woman carefully. Dark blonde hair hung around her face in curls. Her blue eyes glared at her, though she thought the shape seemed familiar.
“Ruth?” she hazarded a guess.
“Yeah, Ruth. Jesus Christ. You don’t even recognize your own sister.” With a huff, Ruth pulled out the chair across the table and plopped down.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a really long time…” she stammered. And they were stepsisters .
“Yeah. It has.”
Quynh straightened and tried not to fidget under Ruth’s assessing gaze.
“How are you?”
Instead of answering, Ruth furrowed her eyebrows in anger.
“How am I? Oh, I’m just great. Shouldn’t you be asking how our father’s doing? Do you even care?”
Ruth’s loud voice seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet cafe, and Quynh tried not to shrink at her accusation.
“Of course I care. I came as soon as you texted.”
Ruth let out a disbelieving sound.
After another tense moment, Quynh broached the topic .
“How…how is…how is he doing?”
It was so weird to think of her father, a man she only knew for a short period of her life.
“He’s still dying, last I checked.”
Ruth’s callous response was a shock to her. It made her wonder what her relationship with their father was like.
“Where is he?”
“At home. He’s on hospice. Old bastard wanted to die in his own bed.”
“Oh.”
Quynh had some experience with hospice patients.
Mainly when she worked as a bedside nurse.
She understood the sensitive situation surrounding death.
Everyone coped differently, and it was a delicate balance of providing dignity to the dying while being respectful of the living, who were in varying stages of mourning.
Grief made people do strange things sometimes.
Clearing her throat, Quynh asked cautiously, “Can I see him?”
Ruth didn’t respond for a few moments, using the time to look around the cafe as she contemplated the question. Then, quietly, as if another person sat in front of her, she finally said, “I think he’d like that.”
Quynh thought she saw tears glistening in Ruth’s eyes, but by the time she brought her gaze back, they were gone .
“Okay. Let me know when a good time is.”
A quiet moment passed. Both women were lost in their thoughts before the whirring of the coffee machine grinding beans shook them out of their stupor.
Quynh inspected Ruth. Really looked at her and past the angry demeanor. She saw the strain bracketing the corners of her lips, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and the pinched expression of an exhausted woman. Quynh saw past the barriers which stood between them and their potential.
“How are you really doing?”
The hard glint in Ruth’s eyes returned almost instantly, a defensive mechanism, one Quynh herself was all too familiar with.
“Fine. Just dandy. I’ll text you his address and let his home care nurse and housekeeper know to expect you sometime soon.”
Before Quynh could utter another word, Ruth got up and left through the front door. She watched as Ruth’s figure disappeared down the street. Her hunched shoulders seemed out of place in the otherwise idyllic town and happy townspeople.
Grief does that to people. It didn’t matter that their father was still alive. His prognosis was terminal. He did not have much time left on this Earth. Quynh didn’t know what Ruth’s relationship with their father was, but it didn’t take a genius to guess it was likely complicated .
Her phone pinged a moment later with a new text message. Ruth sent her the address to their father’s home. She inputted the address into her navigation app. Her father lived on the other side of town, which would require a car to get there.
She’d have to talk to Griffin and find out how long it would take to get her car back on the road.
A problem for another day, but not right now.
Right now, her only concern was to enjoy her cup of coffee and explore the town she could get to on foot.
She could pretend she was on vacation.
If only for just one day.