25. Graham
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
graham
I’ve waited so long
The missing half to my whole
Two hearts now as one
Two hundred and twenty-seven days I’ve been charmed by the woman sitting across from me.
But in the last twenty-four hours we’ve had a spell cast over us. Both overcome with a voracious need that can’t quite be satisfied and kept us up until the break of dawn.
There wasn’t an inch of skin we left untouched; exploring with our hands, lips, and tongues.
This morning, I was convinced it was all a dream and that my mind was playing tricks on me. That was until I found her curled up into my side, with an arm slung over my waist, hair splayed out across my chest, and snoring softly.
I was half tempted to hold her captive in my bed, but today was Sunday , the busiest day of the week at the bakery. I walked her to work with Curly in tow and without overthinking it, kissed her goodbye until she was grinning maniacally and blushing beautifully. Reminding me of the rosy hue of her skin as I lost myself in her last night. Over and over.
If it was a dream, sleep would quickly become my next favorite thing. Right after her.
The day dragged, however, the second she stepped foot in the apartment, I asked her if she wanted to join me for dinner. Which is where we find ourselves now.
I’ve been so busy admiring her in the dim lighting of Our Place , that my dinner has gone cold. Seeing her in my family’s restaurant, a place where I grew up and made so many memories, is something special. I watch as she swipes up the last drops of broth from her steamed clams with a chunk of sourdough. Her tongue peeks out, fingers lingering on the pillowy lips I can’t wait to kiss again.
She makes a show of licking her fingers clean, eyes on me the entire time. If I hadn’t been hard for most of the evening, this would do the trick.
“ How’s the bread?”
She pops the last of it in her mouth and chews slowly. “ It’s good. I mean, not to blow my own horn, but I do it better.”
“ I agree. It just happens I know the guy in charge of ordering in the stock. Maybe I’ll put a good word in for you.”
Her eyes narrow. “ I’m not ready for that. We have a plan; you wrote it.”
She’s referring to the three-month business plan I drafted. All her books are in order now and she has an easy, clear recording system so she doesn’t get herself in the same mess I found her accounts in. I did some forecasting for her, too, which illustrated a healthy incline over the next year. She was shocked to find her financial position was in a much better place than she originally suspected.
Yet , she’s still wary of taking these next steps.
“ It’s not like we’re some big chain ready to screw you over. You can start out small, but I know there are plenty of businesses that would love to work with you. Even Ricky mentioned buying some of your muffins to stock in his waiting room the other day.”
“ You spoke to Ricky ?” She tilts her head.
Shit .
“ Um , yeah. He couldn’t get through to your cell, but there weren’t any updates, he was just checking in. He’s ready to start work when you give him the go-ahead.”
“ Oh , okay.”
I lean forward, catching her gaze. “ Will you tell me what’s holding you back from working with the restaurant? If I can help, I want to.”
For a second, I think she’s going to brush me off. I’m relieved when her shoulders lose a little tension, and she says, “ It feels like cheating, you know? I haven’t earned it. I’m only getting this opportunity because of who I know—you, Booth , Patrick , Johanna .”
Her answer leaves me more confused. “ It’s cliché, but in business, it’s about who you know. Networking is a big part of success; it’s not cheating if it helps you get where you want to be.”
She fiddles with the linen napkin on her lap. Discomfort twists her features, and she falls silent. I’ve learned that when she closes up like this, her mother is usually involved. Just thinking about that woman has white-hot rage simmering in me, but I need to stay calm. Quinn isn’t trying to avoid the question, but she needs assurances before fully opening up. Especially when it comes to her past.
My hand stretches out across the table, and she takes it without question. “ I know it’s hard. Every step of your journey to get here, you’ve done alone. You should be proud of that; I know I am. Don’t let pride get in the way of what you’ve built. You think my dad and George didn’t use their connections to help them out?” I gesture toward the brick and whitewash walls of the restaurant, covered in old fishing gear and photographs of the town. It hasn’t changed much since I was a kid, something my siblings and I treasure.
“ Lenny and Martin Willis played a big part in helping them get this place open,” I continue. “ From putting them in contact with local brewers and offering fair deals on produce. That’s what business is about. And what this town is about. Giving back to the people who live here.”
I watch her digest my words.
“ What if I fail?” she whispers. “ That’s what my mo—what she always said. She never followed me, but she’d leave me texts and voice mails, reminding me that all she saw was a failure. Anytime a teacher sent me home with a new pair of shoes or food, she accused me of cheating my way through life and taking the easy way out. It never made sense when I was a child. It doesn’t excuse what she said or did, but a part of me wonders if she acted that way because she couldn’t afford those things. I don’t believe her words anymore…but sometimes they still haunt me.”
My heart cracks as her voice falters and tears pool in her eyes. For all the joy and beauty she brings into the world, Quinn has scars like the rest of us. I’m greedy for her happiness, but I don’t take her vulnerability for granted.
It’s in these moments that I know my words mean the most to her. “ We all fail. We’re human.” I bring her hand to my mouth and lay a kiss to the center of her palm, then let it rest against my cheek as I speak. “ My dad would say, ‘ Let the failures of today build the foundations of tomorrow.’ I can’t see it happening, but if you fumble or trip, I’ll be there every step of the way to help you get back up.”
A shaky breath leaves her, and the tightening in my chest eases up when a small smile follows. “ Okay . I’ll speak to Booth . Just let me do it when I’m ready.” Her hand coasts up my jaw. “ Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. ”
“ It’s my pleasure.” I place another kiss to the inside of her wrist before pulling away as the server comes over to clear our plates.
“ Speaking of Mr . Willis . Have you heard he’s thinking about selling a bunch of his properties?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “ No , I haven’t. Why do you ask?”
“ I’m really close to getting a deposit together and I dunno”—she shrugs—“maybe the banks will take a chance on me. Do you think it’s a long shot if I spoke to him about buying the bottom floor off him when the time comes?”
Pride surges in my chest. She’s gone from doubting her credibility as a business owner to sharing this. “ I think that’s smart. He trusts you. Get in there first before anyone else does.”
There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and she goes to open her mouth, when she’s interrupted by a voice I’ve unfortunately become very acquainted with over the years.
“ Graham ?”
Quinn has never met the woman standing in front of us, but from the way she straightens in her seat and narrows her eyes, she knows exactly who this is.
My throat grows tight, and a weight drops in my stomach so heavy, it could have me plummeting through the old parquet floor beneath our feet.
“ Jenna .” I keep my voice neutral and gaze steady.
Her eyes flit between the two of us before finally settling on me. “ Sorry to interrupt this—” She waves her hand at our table. “ Ralph and I wanted to come over and say hi before we left.”
My fingers tense at her flippant tone.
I glance over at where my cousin is standing a fair distance away, looking like he’d rather gouge his own eyes out than speak to us.
“ Have a good night,” I say tersely.
A laugh I once found alluring but now sounds like nails on a chalkboard, drowns out the last of my sentence. I chance a look at Quinn , worried this is making her uncomfortable but find her angry gaze trained solely on Jenna . “ Don’t be like that, Gray .”
Gray . Everyone calls me Gray . Have done so for as long as I can remember. From her mouth, it sounds pitiful and holds a totally different meaning. Her parting words to me before she moved out tainted that name forever, yet I still can’t bring myself to ask people to stop using it.
I remain silent, hoping it draws this conversation to a close, but no such luck.
“ We haven’t received your RSVP .”
I’d laugh if my vocabulary wasn’t slowly drying up. The RSVP was meant to be returned weeks ago. It’s why Quinn agreed to our little scheme, but it seems there’s been other things on my mind.
“ The deadline was last week,” Jenna continues. “ We understand if you don’t want to come, considering?—”
“ Considering what?”
Our heads turn toward Quinn , who looks ready to sharpen her pitchfork.
Jenna’s blindsided by the interruption but schools her features quickly. “ I’ll be a second and then you can continue your business meeting.” She barely casts Quinn a glance and dismisses her with a flick of her wrist, instantly making my blood boil.
“ The only business I have is ordering dessert and then taking my boyfriend home. I think your brother is waiting for you.” Quinn looks at Ralph , and I have to hold my breath to stop myself from snorting.
She’s getting three orgasms tonight.
“ B -boyfriend?”
“ Yup .” The little vixen reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers .
“ Wait , no, that’s my fiancé.” Jenna’s face is crimson now.
“ Oh , my bad. You have that sibling bond thing going on.”
That dread at hearing Jenna’s voice has quickly morphed into pride at watching Quinn put her in her place.
“ Is this new?” Jenna asks, her attention on me again.
“ I’m not sure what business it is of yours.” I’ve known Jenna for half my life—we were together for over a decade—and I’ve never sounded more confident when speaking to her than I do now. But it’s short lived.
“ I never expected you to act so pathetic. I’ve been home a week and no one has mentioned you’re seeing anyone. If this is some ploy at making me jealous, you’re?—”
“ I think you should go,” Quinn cuts in.
The pride I felt moments earlier has quickly dimmed and humiliation takes a hold of me. This is the woman I was happy to spend the rest of my life with, complacent in my feelings and ignoring how toxic and manipulative she was.
It shouldn’t be Quinn stopping this conversation; it should be me.
I’m suddenly reminded why this thing between Quinn and me started off as fake, and why it’ll never work in real life.
My meek, muted exterior is exactly the reason my and Jenna’s relationship broke down in the first place. I was never outspoken enough. Fun enough. Manly enough for her. And now those truths are out in the open for Quinn to look over and second guess everything about me.
“ The end of the week. I need your answer by then,” Jenna says through gritted teeth and then plasters on a forced smile. She turns away before we can respond and stomps out of the restaurant with Ralph on her tail.
It’s then I spot Jo and Patrick behind the bar, both seething and muttering between themselves after witnessing that shameful interaction. I can’t look at the woman across from me. Too afraid to see the disappointment and secondhand embarrassment written across her face.
I hear her sigh over the table but keep my eyes trained on the row of liquor bottles along the bar.
“ I have to ask. How did that last for as long as it did?”
This isn’t a topic I want to dive into tonight. Or at all. The one and only interaction Quinn was supposed to have with Jenna was a quick “congratulations” at the wedding. Yet now, I can’t even get my words out and stand my ground after seeing Jenna for the first time since we broke up.
When I brave a look at her, she meets my gaze with an apologetic look. My hands twitch to rub the back of my neck. If it were anyone else, I’d be avoiding eye contact, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look away from her. I do avoid answering the question, however.
“ Do you want dessert here or to go?”
Her eyes fall to the table, hiding her dejected expression.
I hate this. Hate what Jenna has turned me into. I’ve always been quieter than most. It took most of my teenage years to feel like I belonged in my own skin. Until Jenna . My ex wrapped her claws around the parts of me that took so long to accept and easily obliterated the years of progress I made. She belittled me. Dismissed me. And left me as a man who hardly recognized himself.
Then came Quinn .
The last thing I want is for her to see me as the man Jenna discarded.