28. Graham
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
graham
If love had a sound
It would be your sweet laughter
Long after it ends
I’ve had a good life.
Yes , I’ve experienced heartbreak and loss, but overall, I’ve been happy. I have a supportive family, a job I enjoy, and a roof over my head. I always thought this was it, this is as good as it’s going to get. I’d made peace with it.
As I study the slope of Quinn’s nose, the way her dark lashes brush against her round cheeks, and how the early morning sun picks up the different tones in her hair, I decide being wrong feels pretty fucking good.
She makes me better; makes everything better.
Never did I think I would be deserving of her bright light, warm smiles, soft kisses, and sweet noises. I’m still not sure I am, but who am I to question how things turn out?
She stirs and stretches her arms upward like a cat, arching her ass into my lap and rubbing against my stiff cock. Breathing in her sweetness, I bury my face into her neck, and a possessive surge shoots through me when my own scent lingers on her skin. It makes me want to waltz her around town so everyone knows she’s mine.
The second we agreed this wasn’t fake, it felt like a wrecking ball tore through our agreement, and I wanted to roar with satisfaction in the rubble.
This is real.
“ Is that a tentacle in your pants or are you happy to see me?” Her voice is heavy with sleep, but there’s no hiding the mischief in her tone.
Laughing into her neck, I tickle her sides until she squeals.
“ Better a tentacle than a claw.”
She rolls to face me, cheeks rosy and hair disheveled. Not wanting to forget what it feels like to have her in my arms and in my bed, I stare at her as if we have all the time in the world.
“ What are your plans today?” she asks with a yawn. It’s almost six a.m. She’s usually at the bakery by now but confessed last night that she wanted to open later today. I texted my boss once we got to the hospital, asking to take a vacation day. Usually , I’d feel guilty about taking the day off or keeping Quinn in bed, but when her calf slides up the inside of my thigh, I find it impossible to find any probable cause to leave this room.
“ I’m going to check on my mom. Are you still meeting up with Johanna at Shirley’s tonight?”
“ Yeah , it’ll be good to catch up. Be sure to have that David Attenborough documentary and a blanket ready for when I get home. It sure is getting cold, so I expect cuddles every night. When do you think it’ll snow? Oh ! I should buy some snow boots.”
I love her endless babble. This girl could hold a conversation with herself and not get bored. Her cheery voice is like music to my ears, but it’s the word home she uses so casually that rings like bells and vibrates in my chest.
Is this home to her? With me?
When the van is fixed, she’ll want to leave, I understand that. I don’t want to take away theindependence she’s built for herself, but having her here, with all her brightly colored blankets, pom-poms, and candles has finally made this cold space feel like a home for me too.
“ Let me text my brothers. Maybe I’ll tag along.” Her surprise quickly shifts into delight.
“ I’d really like that. We don’t have to stay long. I’m really obsessed with those sea turtles.”
The usual discomfort and annoyance I feel about meeting up at the bar is nowhere to be seen. Weirdly , I want to join them tonight and it’s not because I’m being guilted into coming or someone is trying to force me into a mold I don’t belong in.
Among the many things missing between Jenna and me was compromise.
Quinn shuffles to the edge of the bed, but before she can unravel herself from the comforter, I’m dragging her across the mattress and into my chest. “ Ten more minutes.”
With one arm wrapped around her bare shoulders, I reach over and unlock my phone to drop a text in the group chat I have with my brothers and Dex .
Graham: Are you all meeting up with the girls at Shirley’s tonight?
Patrick: Was planning on it. Why?
Graham: I’ll drive. Let me know what time.
Patrick: You want to come?
Booth: Willingly?
Booth: I think we have a certain little lady to thank for this. And me. Because I am clearly a top matchmaker. First Pat, now you. Dex, watch out, buddy.
Dex: Yeah, not happening.
Patrick: You had no part to play in my relationship.
Booth: Lies. You would still be crying into your puzzles without my help.
Graham: Your advice was horse shit. Concentrate on your own love life.
The phone slips from my fingers when Quinn’s lips trail down my body until she disappears beneath the comforter, where her hot mouth finds my hard cock.
Yeah , we’re not leaving the bed today.
“ I’m really happy for you, but it’s going to take me a while to get used to you smiling so much. It’s kinda creepy.” Patrick observes me over the rim of his glass.
“ I’m not smiling.”
I am. So fucking wide as I watch Quinn dance around the middle of the bar with Johanna . She’s a lightweight and a very handsy drunk. Twice now I’ve had to stop her from groping me under the table. I’d love nothing more, but I’m sober and my brothers definitely saw her sly hand reach for me.
“ I’ll tell you who isn’t smiling.” Dex nods to the other side of the room. We find a slightly irate Booth storming toward us .
“ Who pissed in your Cheerios ?” I ask, sliding his gin and tonic over to him.
“ It’s nothing. Who wants a game?” He gestures toward the pool table.
Three sets of brows rise, waiting for him to reveal what’s got him so worked up.
“ The fucking audacity of our new owner. It’s nine o’clock on a Monday night and they’re sending me emails, telling me what to do with my staff.” He downs half his drink before slumping onto a stool. “ I’m grateful we didn’t lose the restaurant, but I’m quickly losing my patience with all this faceless nonsense. Who are they?”
“ Beats me,” Patrick says. “ I honestly thought that they would have showed up by now. It’s almost been six months since they bought us.” He knocks into Booth’s shoulder. “ Don’t let it get to you.”
“ Why’s everyone frowning?” Quinn asks breathlessly as she skips up to the high-top table. She leans into my side, and I snake my arm around her waist. Everyone’s been eyeing us all evening; not in suspicion, but with a gleam of satisfaction.
“ Just our mysterious owner getting Booth’s panties in a twist,” Dex teases.
“ Fuck off. Let’s move on,” my brother grumbles. “ Mom’s gonna need some help this Thanksgiving with her leg in the cast. I can handle the turkey and most of the other dishes.” He glances at the woman tucked into me. “ Quinn , any chance you want to team up and help make this year’s dinner?”
“ I would love to!” she squeals. “ Anything to distract me from that day. My birthday always sucks. I hate when it falls on Thanksgiving .”
Everyone freezes.
“ Your birthday?” I croak.
“ Umm , yeah. What’s the big deal? Why are you all looking at me like that? I don’t celebrate it.”
I am the worst… boyfriend? Who knows what I am, but I suck at whatever it is because I didn’t know her birthday was coming up. I understand why she wouldn’t celebrate it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get her a gift or make her feel special.
“ If our mom finds out, she’s going to want to celebrate and bake you a cake. We’ll keep it under wraps if that’s what you want though,” Patrick says softly, sensing a shift in the mood around the table.
Quinn rests her head on my shoulder and sighs. The sadness in that little breath is like a sledgehammer to the chest. “ I’m not against it, I’ve just never had people to celebrate with. I’ve never even had a birthday cake. Oh god”—she slaps her hands over her eyes—“ I’m being a real Debbie Downer . Sorry , guys. I’ll shut up. But to answer your question, Booth , I’d love to help with dinner. I’ll be your sous.”
The conversation moves on, we play a round of pool, and have a fun evening. But the idea of Quinn having another birthday that no one celebrates sits like a lead weight in my stomach.
We’re all ready to head out, waiting for the girls to return from the restroom when Patrick slaps me on the shoulder.
“ I’m really happy for you, Gray . Not the most conventional start, but I can already tell she’s good for you. You’re good for her too.”
“ She’s probably too good for me. But so is Johanna for you,” I joke, ignoring the nickname.
“ I totally am!” Johanna hiccups as she squeezes her arms around Quinn . “ I am so happy you’re my friend. Ugh , you’re so cute. Patrick , let’s adopt her.”
“ Okayyyy then. Water and bed for you.” He manages to wrangle her away and convinces her a baby versus a twenty-six-year-old woman might be more fun. From the spark in Jo’s eyes, she looks ready to make a baby tonight.
We say goodbye and I give Dex and Booth a ride home. By the time we reach the apartment, Quinn is fast asleep with her head resting against the passenger window. I brush an errant strand of hair away from her face and she smiles softly at the touch.
Before I wake her, I drop my brother a text.
Graham: Do you know how to make a cake?
Booth: I’m a chef. That’s insulting.
Graham: ???
Booth: I recall you not wanting my help anymore.
Graham: It’s for Quinn.
Booth: Fine! You’ll have to come over to Mom’s on Wednesday after work. I’m working all week.
Booth: You really like her?
I look at Quinn . The quiet has been my comfort for so long, but since she’s come into my life it’s been full of vibrant noise and flashes of color. Turns out, I don’t miss the silence like I thought I would.
Graham: I think I love her.
Booth: About goddamn time.
She’s still a handsy little thing as I coax her into brushing her teeth and washing her face, but the minute her head hits the downy pillow, she’s out like a light.
My entire body aches to slide in behind her, so I keep tonight’s entry brief .
This is love.
Nothing before her matters.
From the moment I met her, I’ve been scared. Slowly , she’s shown me there’s nothing to fear.
When Jenna left me, I was sure I’d never find love again. The thing is, that was never love.
Love comes in the form of Quinn Jackson .
And I am ready to spend every day showing her how much I love her.