23. Graham
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
graham
“ No . Not there. You can’t have a savory pastry among the sweet ones.” I swat Booth’s hands away and take over.
It’s not that big of a deal, but I only have a short while to make this small space look perfect for her.
“ How did you even pull this off?” Dex asks as he assembles a small wooden shelf ready to showcase pies, muffins, and loaves of bread. The table is draped with a red-and-white checked tablecloth and decorated with wreaths and gourds.
“ It was difficult. Quinn practically lives in the bakery, but Johanna repeated what I told her and said it wasn’t worth opening. She left me a key for emergencies, and the minute Jo texted to say the coast was clear, we snuck in to snag some stock.”
I’m worried I’m overstepping the safe boundaries of our relationship, but as I lay out the last of the whoopie pies, I’m confident she’s going to love this.
I hope.
Shit .
“ She’s going to hate it,” I groan and start to retreat from the table.
“ Nope !” Booth shouts and grips hold of my elbow to drag me back. “ Quit doubting yourself. This is nice— really nice. If I were a chick and a guy did this for me, I’d be buying a one-way ticket to pound?—”
“ Booth Elias Sadler !” a voice calls, making us all jump. We turn to find my mom strolling our way with Lottie and Patrick in tow. “ I raised you better than that.” She points a warning finger at my little brother.
“ Sorry , Mom ,” he says with a face like a scorned puppy.
“ Sorry , Mommy ,” Patrick mocks.
Booth whips his head toward him. “ I didn’t even call her Mommy . Get your ears checked, old man. Don’t even ge—” His words are cut off, distracted by something, and a fascinated look sweeps over his features. We all follow his gaze and groan when he makes a beeline toward the woman standing in front of a table filled with art pieces.
The dark-haired woman doesn’t notice him until he’s standing right next to her, with a coy grin on his face as he points at some of the canvases.
“ Does he ever take a day off?” Dex sighs.
“ Never ,” Patrick and I say in unison as we watch Booth work his magic. Or try. Scratch that, fail. Because minutes later, he’s stomping back over here, lips pressed in a thin line with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“ Lady trouble?” I chuckle and hook an arm around his neck.
“ Get off.” He ducks out of my hold and straightens his jacket.
“ What was that about?” Patrick asks with an amused face.
Our little brother throws his hands in the air. “ She said my dimples weren’t that impressive!”
“ Aww , but they’re cute.” Dex goes to poke his cheek, but Booth slaps his hand away.“ Don’t sulk just because you found someone who is finally immune to you.”
“ Who is she anyway?” I query .
“ Must be a tourist,” Dex guesses.
“ Well , I’m not going to lose any sleep over her.” He absolutely is . “ I have more important things to do. C’mon , Pat , we need to finish setting up our stall. Let’s leave lover boy to it.”
My brothers head over to Our Place’s table, but not before Booth says, “ At least you’re working quicker than Pat . He’d still be single if it weren’t for me.” Which earns him a punch from Patrick .
I look at Dex , who shakes his head and sighs. “ Your family makes me grateful I’m an only child.”
“ They make me wish I was an only child,” I retort while looking over the table. “ This looks great, man. I really appreciate your help in pulling this together so quickly.”
“ My pleasure. Quinn’s a lucky girl.”
“ It’s not like that.” I avoid his suspicious gaze and rub my fingers under the edge of my beanie.
“ M -kay, keep telling yourself that. You sound a lot like your older brother though and we see how that turned out.” He juts his chin over my head, and I turn to find Patrick wrapping Johanna up in a hug as he rains her face with kisses until she’s laughing hysterically.
He pats me on the back and joins the others, leaving me with my mom and Lottie , who have been chatting to the vendor next door.
“ It looks amazing, sweetheart. Quinn will be over the moon. I’m so happy for you,” my mom coos.
“ She’s going to be super-duper excited. Like this much.” Lottie widens her arms as far as they’ll go. “ I can’t wait for your wedding.” The knot in my stomach tightens and I do my best not to imagine Quinn in a wedding dress, walking toward me like sunshine incarnate.
I have roughly ten minutes before she arrives. She’s meeting me under the guise that we’ll be walking around the fair, checking out what local businesses have to offer, and roaming around pumpkin patch.
We will later on. First , I want her to experience what it’s like to be a business owner at one of Sutton Bay’s annual fairs.
Sadness crept across her face when she said she couldn’t afford the table. She works so hard, from the crack of dawn until early evening. There have been a few times when I’ve had to coax her out of the bakery, close up, and relax for the night. She’s a one-woman show and is fantastic at it.
She deserves this day.
And after the vile things her mother—if we can call her that—said about her, she needs this.
Quinn is forever smiling, but I’ve seen small fissures in that gorgeous smile since that phone call.
I keep my nerves contained by fiddling around with the table and baked goods, checking if she has enough change in her makeshift register and that all the items are labeled correctly.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to read her text.
Quinn: Hey, handsome. Where are you?
Graham: Opposite the chili-tasting stall. I’m the guy in glasses, wearing a green beanie.
Quinn: Smart-ass.
Quinn: Oh! I see you!
Here we go .
I pick up the bouquet of yellow roses and wait for her in front of the table.
That’s when I see her. I love touching, hearing, and smelling her, but nothing beats seeing her shine radiantly like she is now as she smiles at me .
She breathes air into my lungs and steals it from me with just a look.
With a brisk wave and hello to my family, she skips over to me with an eagerness that makes me think she wants to see me first.
“ Hey , you.” She beams up at me with no clue of what’s behind me, which sets my nerves on edge further.
“ Hi , honey.”
I want to drag her away, scared I’ve overdone it. It’s too much. Too soon. I’m not even sure if she feels the same way.
“ What are you doing over here? Oh ! Graham , have you seen all these goodies? They look so goo—wait…”
Too late now.
She spins around and spots our friends and my family watching us and then pivots back around. Her eyes bounce around the table, taking in the homemade banner Lottie helped me make, with Just Brew It messily scrawled across the paper— I can’t draw for shit and Lottie is bad at keeping in the lines. Her fingers run across the tablecloth as she quietly recites each item I’ve laid out.
Something thick forms in my throat as I watch her, keeping a safe distance away to allow her to take it all in. When she’s done, she turns toward me. So many emotions wash over her face—shock, gratitude, disbelief, joy—it’s hard to pinpoint one.
“ You did this for me?” Her eyes shine bright.
I nod before silently handing over the bouquet.
She lowers her face and inhales the floral scent before placing it on the table.
When she takes a running jump into my arms, I’m ready to catch her.
Maybe I did do the right thing after all.
“ I’m dreaming, right?” she gasps into my shoulder.
“ If you were, would it be a good dream?” My hand runs in circles against her lower back.
Her arms tighten around my neck. “ One I never want to wake up from as long as you’re there.”
Watching Quinn work is quickly becoming my favorite pastime.
The way she interacts with customers has the grumpiest of people leaving her table with a smile and a bag full of sugary treats they didn’t even know they needed. She’s a natural. It’s no wonder people gravitate toward her.
I’ve been idly sitting on the sidelines for the last four hours, helping when things got busy. Every time someone bought something, she would turn and flash me a stunning smile. The table is barren now, and even though I offered to drive back to the bakery to grab some extra stock, she seemed happy to end the day.
And if she’s happy, I’m on top of the fucking world.
My mom left about an hour ago, and I didn’t miss the way she whispered in Quinn’s ear as they hugged goodbye. She just can’t help herself.
Our Place is stocked to serve customers until the end of the day, but a lot of the smaller businesses have started to pack up, likely wanting to make the most of the fall festivities.
It takes us half an hour to clean the stall, pack up my Jeep , and hand over her takings for the day to Booth to lock up securely. The entire time Quinn chats excitedly to me about each and every single customer she interacted with, not once blanching at my silence as I soak up her happiness.
I’m guiding her toward the pumpkin patch when she halts me. “ Have I said thank you?”
“ At least a hundred times, honey.”
Her arms loop around my middle and she burrows her face into my sweater. “ Not nearly enough then.” She props her chin against my chest and stares up at me with golden eyes. “ Seriously , Graham , what did I do to deserve this? I promise I’ll pay you bac?—”
It could be the way she fits so perfectly against me, or perhaps it’s the smile that hasn’t weakened since she spotted me hours ago. Or maybe it’s just her. Yeah , that’s probably it. Whatever it is, has me silencing her with a kiss.
The kiss is quick but enough to leave us panting.
Her eyes flick left and right, and I realize she’s checking to see if I did it for show.
I didn’t.
This has never been for show, despite how it came about. A thought that crosses my mind constantly.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenna or her friends were here, but luckily the fair is popular enough to attract almost three thousand visitors, so I’m hoping we don’t bump into them. Here’s to praying the odds are on our side.
As Quinn slips her hand into mine, I don’t want anything ruining this moment.
She’s overcome a lot, and never complains about the challenges she’s faced. She runs at them head-on, accepts the cards she’s been dealt, and looks to shuffle a new hand. Starting a new business is tough, and a lot of the time, it ends in failure. Even businesses that have been around for twenty-plus years run into problems— Our Place is proof of that.
Today is her day though. And I’m the luckiest guy alive to witness her conquer it.
I revel in the feel of her hand in mine and ask, “ What do you want to do?”
She draws a dozen sets of eyes our way with her squeal and then reveals the long list of things she wants to get done before the fair closes.
We tick every item off as we amble around the fair for the rest of the afternoon. Everywhere you look screams small-town charm, with a punch in the face of pumpkin spice. In three hours, we help pick the winner of the scarecrow-making contest, decorate our own candy apples, go pumpkin bowling, taste chili, and hop on the tractor ride.
Now , we’re standing in a pen surrounded by baby goats.
“ Knock it off,” I hiss and shake a black-and-white kid off the pant leg he keeps chewing on.
“ Aww , he’s just hungry. Here you go, cutie.” Quinn holds out a handful of pellets and strokes its wiry coat. She looks up at the large man handing out feed to the horde of children petting the animals. “ Dex , what made you get goats?”
“ I hate mowing grass and I have about one hundred and fifty acres around my property. These guys do it for free and don’t pump fumes into the atmosphere.”
“ Huh . Very smart.”
A tug at my leg and an obnoxious bleat has me glaring down again. “ Go to her. Not me.”
“ Ignore Vincent . He’s a prick.” Dex laughs with an eye roll.
“ Vincent ?” Quinn asks.
“ Yeah . Vincent van Goat .” He shrugs.
She cackles with laughter, falling backward in the hay, and the baby goats swarm her. The ridiculous name even has me smiling. I check the time on my watch and see we have an hour before the corn maze closes.
“ Hey , you, ready to get lost in a maze?” Grabbing her hand, I pull her to stand, and help her brush the dirt from her coat and dress.
“ So ready.”
We say goodbye to Dex and head over to the last stop on our itinerary .
She’s had the same dreamy look on her face all day and it morphs into a friendly smile when she spots Mr . Willis manning the entrance to the corn maze.
“ Hey , Martin .” I shake his hand and pass him ten bucks for our entry. He gives me a curt nod and greets Quinn with a warm smile. He’s nothing like the surly man I grew up knowing, and he clearly has a soft spot for her.
“ You two enjoy yourselves,” he calls after us as we enter.
It’s pretty chilly now, with a glint of golden sun peeking out over the horizon, giving us just enough light to navigate our way around. We’re both wrapped up in coats and scarves, but despite the cold bite in the air, Quinn is dressed in a deep, red tartan dress, sans tights, and a pair of knee-high black boots. That creamy sliver of skin has been driving me crazy for hours. One look at her thighs has me wanting to bite up the length of them until I find that sweet haven between her legs again.
“ Helloooo !” A hand waves in front of my face and I shake myself out of my thoughts to find her peering up at me. “ Earth to Graham . Are you still with me?”
“ Uhh , sorry, did you say something?” I widen my stance, hoping to ease the pressure of my hard-on pushing into my zipper.
“ I asked which way. You were pretty deep in your thoughts there, care to share with the class?” she teases and pokes me in the ribs, causing me to jolt backward with a very unmasculine noise.
“ Quinn , cut it,” I warn, but my glare does nothing to deter the little minx, and she jabs me in the side again and cackles loudly at my discomfort.
“ I love that you’re ticklish. Listen to you giggle. Oh my god, where is my phone?” Tears shine in her eyes she’s laughing so hard, and even when she fumbles around in her purse, she continues to chase me while shouting, “ I’ve found your weakness!”
With swift movements, I grab hold of her wrists and trap her against one of the barrels marking the first turn in the path. “ You’re my weakness, but right now you’re a pain in my ass.” There’s no point in trying to hide my hard cock as it rests against her stomach. “ Shall we find out how ticklish you are?” I ask, bending down to skim my nose across her cheek. The playfulness seeps out of her until she’s putty in my hands. So soft and pliant.
Her head shakes from left to right, but the smirk playing on her lips says otherwise.
“ I’d run, Quinn .” I step back, a fire licking low in my belly as I watch her chest rise and fall. “ When I catch you, you won’t be laughing.”
Fucking hell , I think as the words leave my mouth. She and I both know this isn’t some game. I’ve never been so bold as I am with her, and my behavior now is a stark contrast to my usual demeanor. Ever since that night in her bedroom, an unfamiliar, hungry urge has slowly been growing in me.
Flames light up her eyes, a twin to the fire building in me. The need for her that’s coursing through me extinguishes any worries about who or where we are right now. I want in her tight heat again, to have her drip down my chin, and if I’m lucky and she’ll let me, I’ll bury my cock so deep into her she’ll realize just how far from fake this actually is.
We both glance toward the empty entrance. Our eyes meet for a nanosecond before she’s darting off in the opposite direction.
I catch the glint of mischief on her face as she rounds the corner and takes a hard left.
Locals know that the exit path of this maze hasn’t changed in eight years, and she’s headed right toward a dead end.
I’ve never been one to chase, but god, when I catch her, I’m never letting go.