Chapter 37 Taran #2
“Haven’t had time lately.”
“Are you?” Heather filled the following awkward silence.
“Same.” I shrugged. “No time lately.”
“There should always be time for books.”
“Wait until you have a million essays to write at uni. See if you have time then.” Quinn reached for a doughnut and stuffed it into his mouth.
Heather pursed her lips while she studied him and then turned back to me. “Are you the reason he’s in a bad mood?”
Quinn choked and spluttered on a mouthful.
“What? What’s happening?” Angus glanced between us while my cheeks blazed. “Can I have another doughnut?”
“No.” Quinn swallowed his bite while he shook his head. His frown was directed at his daughter. “Sometimes you are mortifyingly too similar to your aunt, do you know that?”
“Aunt Cammie’s pure class, Dad. You couldn’t give me a bigger compliment.”
My lips twitched despite the awkwardness of the moment.
“Doughnuuuuuut.” Angus banged the island top with his palm. “It’s just sitting there all holey and lonely without my belly to keep it company.”
“Angus, I said one and only one. Heather, there’s something called tact. Have you heard of it?”
“Tact isn’t for the bold, Dad. I aim to be bold in life.”
“Why only one? That’s doughnut discrimination.”
“Nice word vocabulary, Angus!” Heather raised her arm over the island and her brother high-fived her.
The absurdity of the conversation had the laughter bubbling out of me before I could stop it.
When I was done, wiping amused tears that were probably a release from the culmination of weeks of emotional upheaval, I found all three McQuarries staring at me. Well, Angus kept side-eyeing the doughnut.
Heather was outright grinning.
Quinn’s expression was pained.
My heart turned over in my chest. We couldn’t spend the day with his children with Thursday night hanging over us. “Quinn, can we speak in private?”
He nodded. “Come with me. Heather, make sure Angus doesn’t have another doughnut.”
“But they’re like wee yummy life ring buoys.” His son ogled the plate of baked goods.
I tried not to laugh again as I followed Quinn out of the room, down the hallway, and into what was clearly the utility room. He closed the door behind us.
“How do you cope? Angus is so funny.”
“I know. It makes it hard to say no to him.” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted to talk?”
Leaning against the cabinetry, I sighed. “I’m sorry about yesterday morning. I shouldn’t have left like that.”
“Why did you?”
Remembering our promise to be honest, I forced myself to admit out loud, “Because it would have felt … real. Waking up next to you. Here. It was different in Oban in the hotel …” I shrugged, not able to fully explain my meaning because I wasn’t even sure what I was so afraid of anymore.
“Then that’s what you say. You say, ‘Quinn, I need to go home.’ You don’t sneak out like you’re ashamed we had sex.”
“I’m not ashamed. I would never be ashamed of sleeping with you. Confused. A bloody mess of emotions, aye. But never ashamed.”
He scrubbed at his beard, eyes washing over my face. Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m really sorry for doing that.”
His expression softened. “All right, then. We’ll put it behind us.”
“Thanks.”
“We better get back because Heather would rather let Angus eat a dozen doughnuts than put up with his commentary on why he should be allowed a second one.”
Chuckling, and relieved he’d forgiven me, I followed Quinn back to the main living space.
In the end, he split another doughnut with his son while Heather and I ate the other two.
Then, Quinn’s sneaky and way too clever daughter had us sit at the table to play a game that involved asking questions about each other.
Maybe she just liked this game, but I could tell by Quinn’s glance when she pulled it out that it was deliberate.
She wanted to know about me, and maybe she was even trying to help Quinn and I discover more about each other and who we were now.
When questions like “What is the most embarrassing thing my sibling has ever done?” came up, the kids learned more about mine and Quinn’s history together.
“It has to be when Laird insisted on coming on our first official date.” Quinn’s eyes danced with the memory.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands, still feeling the mortification of that afternoon to this day.
Heather guffawed. “He did not.”
Pressing my cool knuckles to my burning cheeks, I nodded. “Your dad’s right. My mum made the mistake of telling Laird that Quinn was taking me to Oban to the pictures.”
“What age were you?”
“Thirteen and fourteen.”
Angus’s eyes bulged. “And your parents let you take the ferry to the mainland alone?”
“Things were different then.” Quinn shrugged. “Kids grew up faster. Had more independence.”
“Not me.” I met Quinn’s eyes, smirking. “Laird was so overprotective, he surprised us on the ferry and then tagged along for the whole thing. He even sat between us at the cinema. I wanted to kill him.”
Heather cackled. “Oh my goodness, I think I might have.”
“I was so sure your dad would decide it wasn’t worth the hassle to date me. I was so upset, I cried all night. Laird felt really bad about it.” I remembered fondly his guilty wee expression as he knocked on my bedroom door that night.
“I would have gone on every date with Laird as your bodyguard as long as I got to be with you.”
My pulse skittered at Quinn’s tormented expression.
“Jeezo, Dad, who knew you were such a romantic?” Heather teased.
“So, are you two dating now?” Angus frowned, glancing between us.
Oh shit.
I knew we both looked panicked.
“So, Taran, do you know what the most embarrassing thing Aunt Cammie did to Dad?” Heather saved us.
I relaxed marginally in my seat, but the game, as well-intentioned as it was, was confusing me even more.
Frankly, it was emotional torture. Quinn, perhaps sensing that or feeling it himself, abruptly announced we’d play a game that Angus seemed very excited about.
It had Space Cowboys in the title, so that didn’t surprise me.
Hours later, after an indulgent picnic on the living room floor and a couple more board games, the weather had undergone a serious transformation.
The lights had begun to flicker, but Quinn had a backup generator in case the electricity did go out.
Many people who could afford one did because it could take a week for the power company to restore electricity on the island after a storm.
As evening crawled in, I’d exchanged a few texts with London about returning home. I was debating when I should announce my departure when a beeping sound exploded through the living room, followed by the sound of something vibrating.
“Shit.” Quinn jumped up from the couch where we were now watching a kids’ fantasy movie.
“Is that your pager, Dad?” Heather’s expression tightened.
What pager?
Quinn opened a drawer in the kitchen and from it pulled a small black object. The beeping abruptly ended, but when he looked up, he stared past us to the storm outside. “I’ve been called in.”
I was horrified by the notion of him out in this weather. “Called in for what?”
“A rescue with the LSLS.” His tone was grim.
No.
No, no, no. “In this?” I squawked, panic instantly rioting through me.
Quinn was already on the move, grabbing his car keys off the side table. “Can you stay with the kids?”
I jumped up off the couch. “Quinn, you can’t go out in this.”
He gave me a warning shake of his head, and I realized instantly me panicking in front of the kids would not help him. “I have to.”
“Dad?” Angus sounded scared as he sat up.
Heather leaned forward, eyes round with fear.
“It’ll be fine. I might not even have to go on a rescue. But I need to get to the station to see what the situation is. I’ll call you.”
Heather launched herself off the couch, past me and into Quinn’s arms. She hugged him tight, pressing her cheek to his chest. Quinn embraced her, kissing the top of her head. “It’ll be fine, flower. I promise.”
She reluctantly released him and stepped back.
I wanted to do what Heather had done. I wanted to throw my arms around him and feel his hard warmth against me. Feel him alive and breathing and … I wanted his reassurance he’d stay that way.
But my feet were frozen with internal panic.
“I’ll call when I can,” Quinn promised.
And then he was gone, disappearing into the nightmarish storm that howled outside.