15. Quinn
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
quinn
I’m really horny.
To the point where it’s distracting and causing me to make stupid mistakes.
When Jo came in for her morning coffee, she almost sprayed it all over the cash register when she took her first sip and found I’d pumped ten times the normal amount of syrup in it.
I served Mrs . Stewart a pot of tea made with cold water. She was not happy, and for once, her can- I -speak-to-the-manager attitude was 100 percent justified. It’s a good thing I’m the manager.
My trusty vibrator usually does the trick in sating me, but I’ve been too nervous to whip it out, conscious of the thin walls in Graham’s apartment.
I haven’t had sex in almost a year or touched another man since moving to Sutton Bay .
Well , apart from when Graham kissed me.
Which is irrelevant because it wasn’t real.
So why did it feel so good?
“ Because I’m a horny little tart,” I mutter as I mess up yet another tulip in the latte foam.
“ What was that, sweetheart?” Claire asks sweetly as she waits for her take-out coffee.
Perfect . Now Graham’s mother thinks I’m a horn dog. I should probably tell her it’s her son’s fault anyway, because he is a walking, talking contradiction. Lethally silent. Death by his spicy scent, knitted sweaters, and sweet gestures.
I don’t think that man knows what a snack he is, which is a crime.
Not only am I stuck under the same roof as Mr . Sexy Spectacles for the foreseeable future, but he’s the reason I’m hornier than usual, and I can’t do anything about it.
Despite my inner turmoil, it’s easy to put on a happy face when you’re around Claire . She’s not much taller than me, but more petite compared to my voluptuous figure. The nervousness I had about dinner last week quickly disappeared when she embraced me like a mother is supposed to. The evening was some of the best fun I’ve had in a long time. My favorite part was seeing how relaxed Graham was around his family; joking with his brothers, helping his mom, and playing with Lottie .
At no point was I made to feel like an outsider. There was laughter, inside jokes, sentimental moments, and each second that I spent with his family, my smile and heart grew in size.
It was also a stark reminder that I have never experienced a dinner like it before. Have never known a mother’s love or reminisced over family pictures that line the walls of a home. I’m not even sure there are baby pictures of me.
It was bittersweet, but I’ve been holding onto the sweet.
“ Oh , just me mumbling away to myself,” I say with a flick of my wrist and slide the latte over the counter. “ What are your plans for today?”
“ I video-called with my baby girl this morning. She landed in Puerto Rico a couple of days ago and was going on a rain forest tour later this week. I told that little jet setter we have forests here she could stomp around in.” Claire rolls her eyes, making light of the situation. It’s clear she misses her youngest child. “ You and Florence could probably spend hours swapping stories about your travels. Anyway , has my darling boy been treating you right?”
With an awkward laugh, I tap out the used coffee grinds into the trash and top up the beans in the grinder. “ He’s a gentleman. We , um, didn’t plan on living together so soon, but it’s working out. No lover’s quarrels yet.” I hate lying to her. “ All your boys are wonderful, but Graham …he’s really been the best surprise since moving to town.”
My anxiety eases with that last part, because it’s far from being a lie.
“ I’m glad to hear it. They’re all so different in their own ways, but Graham has always been a quiet soul, with a strong heart. Some people don’t know how to appreciate it…” Her brow furrows as her words trail off, clearly wanting to say more. Graham said she doesn’t know about Jenna cheating, but I don’t think he gives his mom enough credit for how perceptive she is.
“ Anyone would be stupid to not see what a catch he is. I’m sure when he finds the right gi— I mean, I’m so…he…um…” Shit on a stick, I’m blowing our cover. The backs of my thighs are sweating as I scramble to find the right response.
I have plenty of nice things to say about him. He’s an amazing listener. He has a great butt. Pulls off a pair of glasses like it’s nobody’s business.
I’d really like to steam those glasses up.
Oh my god, not helpful. The panic is fueled by the fact I’ve been thinking dirty things about her son all day.
“ Well , it’s good to know he’s leaving you speechless.” With a tap on the counter, Claire winks at me and saunters over to say hi to a table of ladies in the corner.
I’m close to smashing my face into the bowl of cookie dough behind me, when the chime of the bell pulls my attention to the front door. Jo , Patrick , and Dex waveat me before spotting Claire . Patrick goes over to speak to her, while Jo and Dex head my way.
“ Hey , guys. What’s going on?” I ask.
“ The peepers have started to accumulate,” Dex groans.
“ Ah , yes, the infamous leaf peepers. Wait ! Does that mean the leaves have finally changed?” I’ve been dying to see Maine in the fall. I doubt the pictures Jo has shown me do the real thing any justice.
“ That’s why I’m here.” Jo smiles widely. “ I promised I’d take you to the best spot in the state to see the trees changing. Do you think you could close the bakery early on Wednesday ?”
“ Absolutely , I can. Does two work?”
“ Perfect . I’ll pick you up then.”
Slapping my hands together, I bring the tips of my fingers under my chin, with an ear-to-ear grin on my face.
After placing an order of coffees to go, they say their goodbyes. The rest of my shift goes by quickly, and before I know it, it’s closing time and I’m on my way back to Graham’s apartment.
All of my things have been packed up until the van is repaired. Whenever that is. I can’t afford for Ricky to start work anytime soon, and it breaks my heart that Nelly is stowed away in a damp, cold garage without me. Apart from my suitcase of clothes, my kitchen, living, and bathroom pieces have remained in boxes in Graham’s living room since we collected them a couple of days ago.
Only , when I step into the apartment, they’re nowhere to be found. And neither is Graham , who is probably out for a run. He must have moved the boxes into my bedroom while he was working from home today.
Not thinking much of it, I refill Curly’s water bowl and get started on dinner. I lived up to my word and have been making dinner for the two of us; tonight we’re having tacos. After pulling out all the ingredients from the fridge, I open a cabinet, but instead of plain white plates and bowls, I’m met with shiny pink ceramic. Picking one up, my eyes drag over the palm tree print painted across the plate.
Unless Graham’s taste has dramatically changed, these are my plates.
Dashing to the next cabinet, I whip it open. Alongside his plain white mugs sit two cactus-shaped ones. In the silverware drawer, the utensils have been replaced with my rose gold ones. Every cupboard, every drawer in the kitchen is filled with my things.
I pivot on my heels, run into the living room, and come to a sliding stop. Pom -poms. Are . Everywhere .
My cushions are placed perfectly on either end of the sofa—he’s even karate chopped them. My lavender-colored blanket is neatly folded over the back of it. Little trinkets I’ve collected over the years are randomly set on the small coffee table.
The thumping in my chest increases in tempo with each new find, but when I spot my brightly colored photo frames on his shelves, I struggle to breathe. He unpacked all my belongings and placed them around his home.
But why?
The sound of the front door opening echoes through the apartment. My fingers drift toward my mouth to stop the tremble of my lips.
“ Oh , hey.” The thud of his sneakers and heavy breathing nears closer. “ How was your day?”
With my back still to him, I raise a shaky hand toward the sofa, and croak, “ You unpacked my things?”
The pad of his feet gets louder as he steps up beside me. “ Yeah …is that okay?”
“ Why ?” His arm brushes against mine, the heat of his skin searing through my long-sleeved T -shirt.
“ Did I overstep? Fuck , I did, didn’t I ? I’m sorry, Quinn , I should have asked. I thought it would make this place feel a little homier for you. I know how upset you’ve been over your van. I’ll put it back.” He steps in front of me, reaching to collect the blanket. My hand clamps around his sweaty forearm, stopping him.
His head slowly turns, eyes dropping to where my fingers are wrapped around his arm before they travel higher until our gazes meet. With a tentative step toward him, I close the space between us, his spicy scent mixing with the fresh air and something mouthwateringly masculine.
“ You keep doing all these nice things for me, and I don’t know how to repay you.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
He relaxes a little, but there’s tension brewing in his muscles. A lot like the rubber band of my self-control that is ready to snap. “ I don’t need you to repay me. Seeing you smile makes me…it makes me feel good.”
A bead of sweat runs down the length of his neck and over his Adam’s apple as he swallows deeply, before it disappears beneath the collar of his athletic T -shirt. When I look back up, my thighs clench. Those usual mossy-green eyes might as well be void of color with how blown out his pupils are. They’re not lacking in emotions, though; they burn with desire, want, and tested patience.
Things between Graham and I have started to blur since that kiss in the bakery and each day, he seems to shed a layer of nervousness and self-doubt.
Right now, I can see the war going on in his head.
He wants to kiss me as much as I want him to do it.
I wasn’t lying earlier; Graham is very much a gentleman. But I don’t want that side of him in this moment. Which is why I reach up with both hands, grip his cheeks, and slam his mouth down to mine.
It’s not a sweeping kiss like the one we shared the other day. This is fever inducing. Obliterating the lines between us. Not a drop of hesitancy as our tongues tangle together.
A deep, hungry moan vibrates from low in his throat, and his hands fall to my hips to tug me close until our bodies are flush. I lean into his strong chest, the pounding of his heart beating against my own as he bends at the waist. His hands haven’t stopped roaming my body from the moment our lips touched, and from how they keep drifting back to my butt, squeezing and cupping each cheek, I know he’s an ass man.
Good thing I have a lot of it.
I’m so swept up in it all, I don’t realize he’s spun us around until he’s gripping the backs of my thighs and hoisting me up on the back of the sofa. This new angle allows Graham to stand between my open legs, our mouths now at the perfect height.
I’m breathless, yanking at the front of his sweat-soaked T -shirt to stay upright as he kisses the ever-loving shit out of me.
Gone is the gentleman.
A gasp escapes me when he thrusts his hips forward, and the very hard, thick length of him presses into me.
When Graham’s lips leave mine, I mewl— fucking mewl. Another desperate sound purrs from my throat when he starts trailing hot kisses down my neck while grinding himself into me. My legs hitch over his hips, drawing him closer, and I really wish his shorts and my jeans weren’t in the way.
“ Oh god, Graham ,” I moan, when he sucks at the skin behind my ear, causing me to wiggle my hips in search of the friction I’m desperate and aching for.
“ Fuck . You taste like a dream come true.” He licks my pulse point. “ How can you feel so fucking right in my arms?”
“ I don’t know,” I breathe out. My hands drift down his sides, fumbling to find the hem of his T -shirt, eager to feel the heat of his skin against mine. “ Please don’t stop.”
“ Why would I stop when you feel like you were made for me? Nothing has ever felt more perfect,” he pants against my skin. “ Tell me, Quinn . What does this mean?”
What does this mean?
Living together has tested my willpower, and sure, we’re attracted to each other. Or at least I’m attracted to him. This can’t go further than those feelings or disrupt the plan we have laid out though. If we catch feelings and things go south, this whole agreement would have been for nothing.
I can’t let him down.
“ It’s just p-practice,” I stutter, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
He freezes, going rigid beneath my hands. His head is buried in my neck, so I can’t see his face, but I hear and feel his heavy breathing.
“ Graham ?”
The sound of his name pulls him from whatever stupor he was in. He’s no longer draped over me but standing at his full height. Lips swollen, cheeks so beautifully flushed, with a bested look that shatters me.
He scrubs a hand across his mouth, wincing when he clenches his eyes shut before letting out a heavy exhale.
“ I’m so sorry, Quinn .”
I shoot to my feet. “ What , why?”
“ That wasn’t… I shouldn’t have done that.” He can’t even look at me.
His chin is tucked in tight to his chest, hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts, and shoulders hunched up to his ears. I’ve seen Graham get embarrassed before, but it’s usually in an endearing, bashful kind of way.
He looks utterly humiliated right now, and I want to scream at myself for causing this.
“ I kissed you, Graham . It’s me who should be apologizing. I don’t want to take advantage of all you’ve done for me.” I go to take a step forward but think better. “ We agreed that was only for public.”
“ There wasn’t anyone to watch the show,” he grits out.
Then he’s turning away and striding to the front door.
The slam that follows his hurried exit makes me jump from where my feet have been glued to the floor, the sound echoing in my ears long after his escape.
That kiss was unexpected, but his words, spoken with such conviction as his hot breath coasted across my skin, they were what shocked me the most. If I know one thing about Graham , it’s that he doesn’t say anything without meaning it.
And as I glance around the home he’s tried to make me feel welcome in, I know that I’ve gone and fucked it all up.