13. Graham
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
graham
I kissed her.
No .
I kissed her and then licked her lips clean.
I’ve officially lost my mind.
I can never show my face in public again.
I’ll have to move away.
What the fuck was I thinking, coming onto Quinn like that? We were supposed to set boundaries. To plan our dates meticulously, so the right people saw us at the right time.
Jenna’s friends were quickly forgotten as soon as I swiped the icing across her face. It was like someone else had taken over my body, yet it was me. I was the one who played with her, kissed her, and made her smile.
It should bother me what Angela and Nina saw and what they’re most likely reporting back to Jenna . It doesn’t though. All that mattered was hearing her laugh and giving her a little break from what I know was a busy day.
That kiss though…
It left me feeling reincarnated .
My soul felt like it was starting afresh, in a new universe, with Quinn Jackson being at the center of it all.
Woo me , she had said. As if I had any idea how to woo an incredible woman like her. Yet , something overcame me. A need to show everyone she was mine. Our agreement was the last thing on my mind when I sealed my lips over hers.
I wanted to kiss her so there was no doubt in anyone’s minds that we were together. Until she was breathless and craving me as much as I do her.
Only , I remembered who we were the moment the fog around us lifted.
I didn’t miss the way she scanned the room, checking to see who had witnessed our intimate moment and like a bucket of cold water, realization of what it all meant washed over me. The only person I could be mad at, was myself. I’d willingly entered into this agreement despite my already budding crush on her. I should have known better than to allow myself to be swept up in her.
Which is why the second I had the flowers placed in the glass vase, I hightailed it out of there. Simply because I didn’t want to submit her to the awkward aftermath. And I was a fucking coward.
Now , I’m minutes away from receiving a complaint from the tenant below as I stomp across the floor in a frenzy.
Did she look like she enjoyed the kiss? Sure , she nodded her consent, but it doesn’t make it okay. Everything I’ve said and done plays on repeat in my head, and I analyze it for any clue that I’ve made her uncomfortable.
The sound of the front door opening halts my internal ramblings.
Quinn’s back. Or perhaps a burglar has broken in to put me out of my misery.
“ Hey , Graham , are you home?” Her voice carries through the apartment to where I’m hiding.
Does she sound… happy ?
I nod my head, but she doesn’t respond.
“ Graham ,” she calls out. I’m about to nod my head again, when I remember she isn’t Superwoman and can’t see through walls. What is happening to me?
“ Yeah ,” I croak out.
“ Oh good, you’re here.” Her footsteps grow closer until they pause outside my door. “ Can I come in?”
“ Into my bedroom?” My eyes dart around the room in panic, but much like the rest of the apartment, there isn’t much to see. That doesn’t stop my heart rate from rising at the thought of us being in such close proximity again.
“ If that’s okay. Or maybe you could come out? I have something for you.”
Probably a restraining order.
“ S -sure. Come on in,” I call out and stand in the center of the room.
The handle rattles and then turns slowly. The top of her head appears first, then her hazel eyes peek over the edge of the door. Without even seeing her mouth, the crinkled corners of her eyes tell me she’s smiling. A good sign. When she spots me, she bounces into the room, vibrating with happiness, at what, I don’t know.
Even when I’m freaking out, her delight is contagious. I want to bottle it up and save it for the miserable days.
She’s always beautiful, but when she bubbles with excitement like this, it’s impossible to look away.
Today’s pop of color is the bright pink scrunchie holding her hair back in a low pony. She’s still in the pair of light denim overalls from earlier, dusted in flour and splashes of coffee. Although Quinn could wear the dullest of outfits and still light up the room.
“ Everything okay?” My voice wavers, because despite her happy outward appearance, I’m still nervous about what she’s going to say and if she will bring up this afternoon.
“ I’m super. Sorry we didn’t get to talk much at the bakery, it was a busy one today.” It’s then I notice her hands are behind her back, hiding something from my view, and her smile widens when she sees where my attention has landed. “ Okay , don’t be mad, but I got you a gift. Well , two gifts. One for you and one for Curly . I was scrolling mindlessly online, and I just knew you both needed these.”
“ What is it?” The guilty yet pleased look on her face has me worried for a completely different reason now.
She slowly reveals the gifts and it’s near impossible to keep a straight face. In one hand is a teeny-tiny, knitted sweater; it’s orange and decorated with pumpkins, vines, and leaves.
“ Aren’t they adorable?” she squeals.
Plural . Because in her other hand is a larger version of the sweater. “ They’re something all right.” I point to the bigger one. “ I take it that one is for me?”
Please say no.
“ Yes ! Oh my god, you guys are going to look so cute.” She looks down at where my dog is prancing around her feet. I’m the one who rescued him, yet he worships the ground she walks on. Who can blame him though? “ I thought you could wear it tomorrow for dinner?”
How can I deny her when she looks up at me with such hope and glee?
Gone is the worry about today’s impromptu kiss. My main concern now is how to avoid my brothers, because they’re going to have a field day when I rock up wearing this monstrosity of a sweater.
“ I wanted to get you something to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’d usually bake a cake as a thank-you,” she says with a sly wink.
Fuck my dislike for sugary snacks. I’d take tooth decay over this. I haven’t even tried it on, but it’s making me itch just looking at it.
“ Well , here you go.” She shoves them in my hands. “ I’m gonna get washed up and start on dinner. Do you want to eat with me?”
“ Oh , yeah, sure.” She really isn’t going to talk about the kiss, is she?
“ Mr . Willis dropped off some squash after you left. I was thinking of making soup with it, if you like?”
“ Sounds delicious.”
With a clap of her hands and a megawatt smile that makes my heart double in size, she skips out of my bedroom.
And I’m left utterly confused.
“ Okay .” Quinn turns down the radio of my car. “ What’s our game plan?”
“ Game plan?” My eyes bounce to hers, before moving back to the road. We’re on our way to my mom’s, and I wish I was half as calm as she is right now. She’s in the passenger seat, and if I thought summer dresses were dangerous, the formfitting dress she’s wearing will be my downfall.
Curves for days.
I almost choked on my tongue when I found her standing in my kitchen with a cake tin in her hands. Her hips, thighs, and ass are begging to have my hands molded to them. I want to watch my fingertips disappear into her soft skin, to leave my mark on it, to taste it.
But I can’t.
So instead, I accept my fate: death by blue balls .
“ We could wing it, like at the bakery yesterday…” She trails off, and I do my best not to react.
It’s the first time she’s acknowledged the kiss. Last night after she made a delicious batch of soup, neither of us brought it up, choosing to talk about other things instead. I didn’t mind, but it was clear we were both avoiding the subject.
Apparently now is the time to discuss the boundaries we should have set from day one.
“ I’m sorry about that.” My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “ I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. It was inappropriate.”
“ You’re a really good kisser.”
She gasps as my foot slams on the brake pedal with a little too much force as we near a stop sign, jolting us forward before being snapped back by our seat belts. Curly barks from Quinn’s lap—or maybe it’s in protest to the sweater she wrestled him into.
Did I hear her right?
“ Shit , sorry,” I groan and turn to find her laughing and brushing her bangs back into place.
“ It’s fine.” She smiles and then glances through the passenger window. “ Is this your mom’s neighborhood? It’s lovely.”
“ Quinn ,” I say, trying to catch her attention as she takes in the row of Victorian -style coastal homes. “ At no point in this agreement are you required to kiss me.”
“ I don’t mind.” She shrugs. “ Did you grow up in the same house your whole life?”
“ Quinn .”
She whips her head toward me, looking all innocent. “ What’s up?”
“ No kissing. Hand -holding only.” My body is turned to fully face her now with my arm hooked around the back of her headrest .
“ I don’t mind if you kiss me. I’ll allow some light petting too.”
“ Jesus Christ .” My head falls backward. “ Why are you so relaxed about this all?”
“ I dunno. I think one of us has to be.” Her hand falls to the arm I have draped over the wheel, and when I find her gaze already locked on mine, there’s no looking away. “ I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. You’re helping me out big time—with the bakery’s books, letting me stay at your house this week, even being my friend. So if the opportunity arises and a bit of tonsil hockey is required, I’m down. You have my permission. Let’s just hope those two wenches saw us yesterday.”
The question is out of my mouth before I can stop them. “ Why are you helping me?”
Her eyes are warm, but a sad smile pulls at her mouth. “ When I was growing up, I didn’t have a lot of people in my corner. No friends. Practically no family. I always promised myself that I would give back to the people in my life, to make up for the times I’ve been let down or hurt. It makes me think I’m putting good juju back into the universe. You’re a good one, Graham , and you deserve an extra person in your corner.”
Without another word, she pats me on the hand, and twists the volume dial to fill the car with music again. Speechless , my foot finds the gas pedal, and with Quinn singing next to me, I continue our journey to my childhood home. During the short ride, I decide anyone would be lucky to have someone like her in their corner, yet she chose me.
I had a very fortunate upbringing, with my parents being able to put all four kids through college and having a roof over our heads. It’s the memories we made together that I’m most grateful for though.
We grew up with a small forest in our backyard, the scent of pine mingling with the salt air. The house is exactly as I remember it when I was younger. The white cladding wrapped around the exterior remains the same; a perfect backdrop for the pale pink, blue, and purple hydrangeas that will be back in bloom next summer.
“ Wow ,” Quinn whispers beside me. “ It must have been amazing growing up here.” She gasps, and I follow her line of sight through the windshield. “ Get out, you have a tire swing?” There’s a forlorn expression on her face. I’ve tried a couple of times to inquire about her childhood, and from what she revealed minutes ago, I don’t think we had the same experiences.
“ You wanna go on it?” I turn off the engine and climb out.
She hurries to follow, with my dog trotting right behind her, and meets me at the hood with wide eyes. “ Now ?”
“ Why not? C’mon .” I unlatch the gate leading up the path and head toward the side of the house. The tall oak tree has been here since before the house was built, draping it in shadows and protecting it from the harsh easterly winds.
Quinn’s footsteps crunch over the blanket of leaves covering the lawn; spots of orange and yellow sitting against the bright green blades. The sky is clear today, but the ground is waterlogged from the heavy rain we had yesterday.
“ You’ll have to trade those for boots soon.” I nod to her muddy sneakers.
She looks down. “ I can’t imagine I’ll be doing much walking, but I have a pair of old hiking boots. Even though the weather in California was nothing like this, I remember growing up wishing I had a pair of yellow rain boots. A girl in my class brought in a photo album from a family vacation for show-and-tell, and I remember being so jealous when I saw pictures of her in yellow rain boots.” Her hand swats at the air, as if to shoo away the idea. “ So dumb of me.”
I want to ask what she brought in for show-and-tell but think better of it. Instead , I grab hold of the old tire and pat the worn, black rubber. “ Right , hop up. Or do you need help, shortcake?”
“ Rude .” She sticks out her chest proudly, drawing my eyes downward. “ You won’t be able to pick me up anyway.”
That has my eyes snapping to her face. “ Wanna bet?”
I step forward, and before she can make a break for it, I scoop her up and deposit her on top of the tire. The weight of her means nothing to me; I’m just thankful for the excuse to feel her pressed up against me again.
She’s still laughing when I grab hold of the rope and rock her gently back and forth. “ You’re just showing off your muscles.” Booth must be rubbing off on me, because I flex said muscles when she wraps her hand around my bicep. “ I felt that, you meathead.”
“ I have no idea what you’re on about.” I chuckle, and she laughs hysterically when I puff out my chest, the sound a melodic masterpiece I want to play on repeat.
She leans back, taking control of the swing, and her smile widens every time she flies by me. How easy it would be to brush my lips across that smile.
A few steps is all it would take.
Before I get carried away, my older brother’s voice interrupts us.
“ What the fuck is that hideous thing you’re wearing? Wait a min—oh, this is brilliant. The dog is wearing a matching one.”
My eyes shoot daggers at Patrick . “ It’s my new sweater that Quinn bought me,” I reply, before mouthing, Don’t say a fucking thing.
“ Oh . It’s , uh, nice?” he says, but shoves his fingers down his throat when Quinn isn’t looking, earning him a slap across the back of the head. “ If you two love birds are done out here, Mom is itching to see you both. Almost as itchy as that sweater.” He whispers that last part with a barely contained laugh.
“ If you don’t stop, I’ll tell Mom you’ve been researching rings,” I hiss.
His eyes flare. “ Don’t you dare.”
I wouldn’t, but my threat does the trick.
We grab the cake from my car and follow Patrick into the house, wiping our shoes on the welcome mat before kicking them off. Lottie’s happy squeal is heard through the house when Curly scampers into the den to greet everyone.
“ I’m nervous,” Quinn confesses quietly next to me.
“ Why ?” I help her out of her jacket and hang it up in the closet.
“ What if she doesn’t like me?” This version of Quinn is rare; white-knuckling the cake tin in her hands, chin tucked to her chest. It’s similar to the side I saw when she wanted to ask for help but didn’t know how to.
She’s quelled my nervousness plenty of times in the few short days we’ve been living together. And that’s what I want to do for her now.
My thumb and forefinger lightly pinch her chin to raise her gaze to meet mine. “ That’s impossible. She always gushes about you after a visit to the bakery. And not just about the cakes. But you. ”
“ This is different. What if she sees right through our act then hates me for lying to her? I don’t do well with people not liking me. It’s a terrible character flaw.”
“ I can tell you with all the confidence in the world, my mother could never hate you.” I drag the pad of my thumb over her skin, grazing her plump bottom lip. “ You’re very difficult not to like…believe me.”
The honesty in my words sparks an ember in those golden irises, but just as she goes to speak, we’re interrupted yet again.
“ Did I hear ‘ Mother ’?” the woman herself calls as she walks around the corner and my hand falls to my side.
Hair the same sandy shade as mine sits just below her jaw, with streaks of gray framing her face. Icy blue eyes crinkle further when she spies the woman standing beside me. She’s so eager to greet her, she practically barges past me on her path to wrap Quinn up in a hug.
“ When Booth told me you were coming I just couldn’t believe it.” She throws an angry glare over her shoulder. “ My middle son somehow failed to tell me he was dating; let alone that it’s with the woman whose carrot cake I dream about.”
“ Thank you so much for having me.” When Quinn is free from the embrace, a surprised expression lights up her face, and the warm welcome has clearly quashed her nerves. “ Speaking of carrot cake…” She pulls back the lid of the cake tin.
My mom loops her arm through Quinn’s . “ You can come every week. Everyone else is through here.”
Without a backward glance, Quinn is carted away toward the chatter of voices coming from the den.
Booth decides to emerge the second they disappear, a guilty look on his face. “ I guess you can never stop fake dating her, or risk breaking our dear mother’s heart.”
Fucking Booth .