Chapter 29 Quinn
Restlessness jittered through me as I tried not to seethe over what had happened this morning. I attempted to focus on my son and his game, cheering as I watched my wee boy execute maneuvers with his hockey stick that never ceased to amaze me.
“We should get him on skates next,” Gary mused as we stood together on the edge of the field. “If he can skate, he’d make one hell of an ice hockey player.”
“Considering the nearest rink is Dundee, that might be an issue,” I murmured dryly.
“Some of the parents are talking with the council about fundraising for a permanent rink.”
Good luck with that, I thought, knowing how difficult such an endeavor would be.
Gary chatted to me about the ice hockey initiative and I hopefully nodded in all the right places. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested. It was just that I couldn’t get the look of terror on Taran’s face when that man dragged her away out of my head.
I glanced over my shoulder for the fifty millionth time.
She sat on the benches with Heather on one side and Kiera on the other.
Heather was too busy texting on her phone to pay attention to either her brother’s game or the fact that her mother was murmuring with intensity to Taran whose expression was carefully neutral.
Taran hadn’t wanted to tell the kids or Kiera and Gary about what happened. She didn’t want the fuss, she’d said. I’d abided by that.
I hadn’t expected Kiera to be excited to see Taran considering their history, but it seemed she had a reason.
My gut churned, wondering what the hell my ex-wife was saying to her.
Gary nudged me.
“Aye?”
He gave me a knowing look. “Ever since Heather mentioned you and Taran were talking again, Kiera has been itching to see her.”
“Why?” I practically barked.
Gary chuckled. “Nothing to worry about, Quinn. She just feels bad about the past and wants to say sorry and assure Taran that there’s nothing between you anymore.”
“Fuck. Things are delicate. I don’t need Kiera—”
Gary grabbed my arm, his usual jovial expression hardening. “As much as you are in the middle, mate, Kiera has her own guilt to bear with Taran, and that’s got nothing to do with you. She has a right to apologize if she wants to.”
I relaxed ever so slightly as I processed his words. It never occurred to me that Kiera held any kind of remorse toward Taran. When it came to Taran, I suppose I could be a bit self-involved, thinking the two of us existed in a bubble.
But we didn’t.
I looked back at my two exes and Heather caught my eye instead. She’d looked up from her phone and was watching me and her stepfather carefully. She looked pointedly at her mum and Taran and then gave me a small reassuring smile as if to say, It’s all good.
Nodding, I turned away from them and Gary released me.
“It’s amazing you and Kiera lasted as long as you did,” he mused aloud. “You watch Taran like you’re afraid she’s about to disappear.”
I grunted because she almost fucking did this morning. At that, I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate unless I had Taran in my direct line of sight. “I need a seat.” I waved off Gary’s protestations. “I’m not interrupting them. I just need a seat.”
With that, I nudged Heather out of the way (she laughed at me) and settled next to Taran, my thigh pressing against hers. “Everything all right?” My gaze bounced between her and Kiera.
My ex-wife rolled her eyes at me and looked toward the game. “Aye, Mr. Overprotective.”
I waited for Taran’s confirmation.
She gave me a small, weary smile but nodded.
With her warmth pressed against mine, I more easily focused on Angus’s game.
“Did you see my jab tackle in the fourth quarter?” Angus’s voice was several decibels above where it should be for a public place.
“God, Angus, aye, we saw it, it was awesome, but lower your voice, bud.” Heather glanced around the restaurant. “People are staring.”
Unfazed, my son leaned across the table and whispered at me and Taran, “Did you see my jab tackle in the fourth quarter?”
Taran struggled not to laugh, which deepened my amusement and affection for my son. “I saw it. It was phenomenal.”
Angus’s eyes lit up with my praise. “And did you hear they’re trying to get the council to open an ice rink?”
“An ice rink for what?” Taran asked just as the waiter brought our drinks over.
Kiera and Gary had graciously adhered to my plans to take the kids for dinner, even though Taran was now part of that equation. I was anxious to hear what Kiera had said to Taran at the game, but I was doing my best to focus on the kids.
“A lot of the parents think we should start training to play ice hockey.”
“Do you want to play ice hockey?”
Angus considered Taran’s question. “It looks cool. No pun intended.”
I laughed at his cheeky grin.
Taran, however, remained contemplative. “Ice hockey is quite dangerous.”
Now that she mentioned it, it was. Christ, my mind was so all over the place I hadn’t fully contemplated the realities of Angus possibly playing ice hockey. And now I was concerned.
It seemed there was further discussion to be had.
Heather must have seen my expression change because she directed her words to me. “Angus shouldn’t get too excited. According to Mum, there is very little chance the council will be interested. It’s too expensive to build, run, and maintain, when the budget is needed for essential public services.”
“Nuh-uh.” Angus grimaced at his sister. “Gary says they’re going to try.”
“Gary is living in cloud-cuckoo-land.” Heather flicked me a look. “You should get him to stop filling Angus’s head with things that aren’t going to happen.”
Concerned their stepfather had gotten my son’s hopes up for something that was a long shot, I gave her a small nod. Seeing Angus’s face turn red with fury, I leaned toward him. “You want to know what my favorite part of the game was today?”
Just like that, he was distracted from the coming argument with his sister.
Throughout dinner I tried not to be overly attentive or smothering toward Taran, but I was proud of my kids and the way they easily included her in the conversation.
She and Heather chatted more about Glasgow, and Heather, with an openness I was proud of, spoke about her girlfriend Hazel.
Kiera and I had talked on the phone, checking in with each other about Heather, and Kiera had informed me our daughter’s attitude had completely changed since she’d come out to us.
I could see it now. It was like this massive weight had been lifted from Heather’s shoulders.
“It’ll be more difficult with Hazel in Edinburgh and me in Glasgow, but it’s just a train ride away. We’ll make it work.” I heard Heather say to Taran as Angus chatted around a mouthful of burger to me about his latest computer game.
With one ear on their conversation, I heard Taran reply, “Just make sure you both are communicating honestly the entire time. If you keep worries and resentments to yourself, that’s when things fall apart.”
My lips pinched together, but I nodded along with Angus as he ranted about how his friend was a sore loser for going home after he beat him at the video game. “Definitely a sore loser,” I agreed, even as I fought the urge to reach for Taran’s hand.
She didn’t want what happened to us to happen to Heather and neither did I.
I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, never mind my beautiful kid who deserved all the happiness in the world.
“Aye, Dad said the same,” Heather replied. “Hazel and I have agreed to be fully honest with each other. We both can get a wee bit jealous of other girls, but we’re working on it.”
“The more certain you become of each other, the less that will happen.”
“Do you think?”
“Aye. That’s why communication is so important.”
“Are you talking about dating?” Angus abruptly cut off from explaining Roblox to me. He wrinkled his nose as he glanced between Heather and Taran.
“So what if we are?” Heather raised an eyebrow at him.
Angus frowned. “Kyle said it’s wrong you’re dating a girl.”
Kyle was a little prick.
“One, Kyle shouldn’t know, Angus. You were told to keep quiet.” Heather glared. “Two, you better not be listening to a word he says.”
“I think I need to have a word with your mum about this Kyle kid.”
Angus’s head whipped to me. “But Dad—”
“If anyone is unkind about your family, they’re not a good friend to you, Angus.
We stick up for our family. We don’t let folks get away with saying awful things about them.
You and your sister might argue now and then, which is fine, but you don’t let anyone say bad things about her. You’re her brother. You protect her.”
It was not the first time I’d said those words, and the reminder made my son sit up straighter. He nodded. “I’ll tell him he’s a turd.”
Taran coughed, and I knew it was to cover her laughter.
Trying not to smile, I suggested, “Why don’t you just tell him if he says anything bad about your sister again, you can no longer be friends?”
“Aye, but I’m also telling him he’s a turd.”
Heather’s giggle made Taran crack, and she burst into laughter. The really wonderful thing about it was that she turned her cheek into my shoulder to try to hide her amusement. I grinned at the unrestrained intimacy of the moment, my hand dropping to her thigh to give it a quick squeeze.
Hope, fucking awful hope, sprang to life as she lifted her cheek from my shoulder to look up at me, warmth and tenderness in her dark gaze that I hadn’t seen for almost two decades.
I wanted to latch on to it, to freeze it in time, a terrifying desperation clawing at me as she turned to grin at Angus.
The magnitude of the task laid before me hit me full force, studying Taran’s profile as she chatted with my children.
I was utterly in love with this woman.
Always had been.
Always would be.
And I knew in that terrifying knowing that lived in your very soul that this time between us was my one and only chance to bring us back together.