Chapter 12
Twelve
L owey woke up slowly, feeling slightly disoriented. The weight of Quentin’s arm draped over her ribs was a little uncomfortable, but she was reluctant to move. He still slept soundly beside her, and for the moment, at least, she wanted to enjoy it.
She didn’t trust him. He wasn’t the kind who’d stick, and she knew that, but it was nice to lay there next to him and pretend just for a little while.
Craning her neck, she looked at him, taking in all the details.
He was beat all to hell, but he was still the best-looking man she’d ever seen.
Even battered and bruised, that bone structure was perfection.
With the perfectly trimmed beard and always meticulously groomed hair, Quentin probably spent more time and effort on his appearance than she did.
Not that he needed to. Now, lying there in the bed, his hair mussed, she was seeing something of him that she never had before.
They’d had sex more times and more ways than she could even count, but never once had they slept together.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, his eyes opened slowly. “Stop thinking,” he said.
“Not possible,” she replied .
“Stop over thinking,” he retorted.
“That’s not possible either,” she shot back.
“We’re good for right now. You, me. This bed. The pain in my ribs has let up just enough that I think maybe we can have more hot, amazing sex in the next century at least.”
A giggle escaped her. Immediately, she clapped her hand over her mouth.
Giggling wasn’t her. She was not that girl.
More to the point, she and Quentin were not that couple.
It was all hot sex with just enough kink to make her blush when she remembered it.
Laughing, teasing one another, cuddling in bed—they didn’t do that.
But it was happening, and God help her, it was more tempting even than his perfect body.
“You’re doing it again,” he said. “Overthinking.”
“Can’t help it. You look like Quentin Darcy, but you sure as hell don’t act like him.”
He rolled her onto her back and settled on top of her, kissing her cheeks, her nose, the line of her jaw. But then his lips settled on her neck, and the sweetness of the moment morphed into something else entirely. Suddenly, it was all heat and need again.
“If you need me to prove that I’m Quentin Darcy,” he said, “There’s only one way to do that. ”
“Your pants are a little far away for you to be showing me your driver’s license.”
He frowned, clearly not appreciating her humor. “I was thinking more along the lines of having someone vouch for me…I thought, if you wanted to go, I’d take you home.”
“To your fancy condo?”
“No…to my family’s home,” he said. “Dinner with Mia and Bennett? Maybe get Clayton and Annalee to come over and bring the munchkin.”
Panic. That was the only word to describe what she felt.
He wasn’t just talking about showing her the house.
He was talking about introducing her to his family.
Yes, sure, she knew them. Fontaine was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone.
But he was staking a claim, he was willing to state openly and to everyone who was important in his life that she was too.
“Slow your roll, Ace,” she said. “I don’t think that any of us are ready for that.”
“I’m not thinking about this stuff anymore, Lowey. I just want to do what feels right.”
“And it feels right to you to take me to meet your family?” she demanded .
“It feels right to me to stop hiding the fact that we’re together.”
Together . That was a loaded statement, she thought. It implied things that she wasn’t quite sure he could manage. “But we’re not together…not really.”
He kissed her again, his beard rasping over her skin in a way that made her shiver. “Meeting my family seems to be a good first step. Come with me, Lowey.”
“Jesus! It’s like we’re in fucking middle school again!”
“When you were in middle school…well, it wouldn’t have been illegal, but it would have been seriously questionable for me to be having these kinds of thoughts about you.”
She laughed at that, unable to help herself. “If they hate me,” she finally managed, “It’s on you.”
“They won’t hate you. Me…I’m not so sure about. I did have an epic redneck brawl on the front lawn Thanksgiving Day. I’m in the doghouse.”
She pushed him away and sat up. “If we’re going, I need to shower and get ready before I change my mind.”
Quentin rolled onto his back and watched her as she moved around the room. It was mundane, really. She gathered clothes from the closet, toiletries from the bag on the dresser. But she was doing it all buck naked, and there was nothing better than watching her move when she didn’t have a stitch on.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, saw him watching and made a face. “Pervert.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Laughing, he rolled to his side as she tossed a shoe at him. “Be nice,” he admonished. “I’m on the injured list.”
That prompted an eye roll from her. “Judging by our earlier activities, you’re not that injured.”
“Oh, I am,” he said. “But with the right incentive, I can power through.”
“And on that note, I’m getting in the shower.” She paused, looking back at him, and added, “Alone.”
He was still chuckling as she closed the bathroom door firmly behind her.
Sitting up, he winced as his ribs reminded him just how hard his half brother could punch and reached for his discarded pants.
After digging his cell from the pocket, he started to text Mia.
They hadn’t spoken since he’d Jerry Springer-ed her Thanksgiving.
Deciding that a phone call and a well-timed apology were more likely to get him what he wanted, he dialed her number instead .
She answered quickly, and her response was pretty much as expected. “You’re an asshole,” she said flatly.
“We are in total agreement,” he offered. “I’m sorry I ruined your big holiday plans. It was a dick move.”
Her heavy sigh was all he needed. She’d forgive him. Mia’s downfall was that she was always too forgiving. At least it worked in his favor.
“What do you want, Quentin? You wouldn’t be calling and apologizing if there wasn’t something in it for you.”
The truth hurts, he thought. “I do…but it’s fairly benign.”
“Spill it, big brother.”
Quentin took a breath, glanced at the bathroom door, and then said something he’d never thought to utter. “I want to bring Lowey to the house for dinner…and if you’re not doing anything with it, I want to get Grandma’s ring from Mama’s jewelry box.”
Mia had been half listening to her brother, assuming he was just trying to con her into forgetting his bad behavior.
She’d been watching through the back window as Bennett cleared brush in the backyard.
It was the end of November but unseasonably warm, and he’d worked up a sweat while wearing nothing but jeans and a white T-shirt.
Maybe that was why it took her a second to process what Quentin had just said because her ovaries had temporarily shut down higher brain function.
When it did register, she turned away from the window and sank down onto the nearest horizontal surface. “You serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Quentin replied.
Mia felt a little breathless at the thought.
Quentin didn’t talk to her. Not about things that mattered.
In fact, as far as she knew, he didn’t talk to anyone about things that mattered.
He kept it all bottled up inside him, like any softer emotion was a crime to be concealed. “You want to marry her?”
“Not tomorrow,” he snapped. “But when all this business is settled with Joey Barnes, when there’s time for us to sit and talk about everything, then I’m going to ask her.”
“Don’t wait until things are settled.” If there was one thing Mia had learned in her life, waiting for things to be right was pointless.
If he loved Harlow Tate, and she had to believe he did because Quentin was the most commitment-phobic person on the planet, he needed to move on it and not waste another second.
“If you love her, and if you want to be with her, just do it. Don’t let anyone or anything stop you. ”
There was silence on the line for the longest time, until he finally spoke again. “I’m sorry, Mia. We should have done something about Samuel…long before now. If I’d known?—”
“You’d have killed him. Your temper still isn’t the best, especially where he’s concerned,” she stated.
“This is how it was supposed to be. If I’d run off with Bennett when we were younger, I don’t know what would have happened.
Maybe we could have made it work, maybe not.
But what I do know is that living the last ten years without him gave me enough time to realize just how special it is.
I appreciate having him in my life now in a way that I might not have before. ”
It was true, she realized. She’d had to let him go to understand just how much he meant to her, how vital he was to her life and her happiness.
Did Harlow Tate make Quentin feel that way?
God, she hoped so. He needed some happiness in his life.
He needed some peace from whatever it was that haunted him so much.
“Dinner won’t be fancy,” she said. “But it’ll be ready at seven. You want Clayton and Annalee here to witness your taming?”
His bark of laughter made her smile. Quentin didn’t do that nearly enough.
“I’ll never be tamed, Mia,” he scoffed .
“So you say.” She laughed. “But I’ve seen Harlow Tate, Quentin. I know just what that girl looks like, and I know just how little of your crap she’ll tolerate. You might not be completely tamed, but you’ll definitely be domesticated under the right circumstances.”
He changed the subject then. “Lowey is getting out of the shower. I’ll see you tonight.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving Mia sitting there holding the phone and shaking her head in wonder. If any woman could ever bring Quentin to heel, it would be Harlow Tate, and she was eager to see it.
The back door slammed, and she looked up to see Bennett walking in, stripping off his sweaty shirt and looking like every erotic fantasy she’d had for the last decade.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he warned, “And I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”
She dropped the phone onto the couch beside her and leaned back, resting her weight on her palms. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
Bennett stalked toward her until he could tangle his hands in her hair. Then he kissed her, his lips firm on hers. It was definitely a promise, she decided. When the kiss broke, she was breathless. “I should be getting everything ready for dinner tonight…we’re having guests.”
“We’ll order pizza,” he offered.
“No,” she said. “We will not. But since it’s warm enough outside, there’s no reason you couldn’t fire up the grill and cook some steaks. That might free up a little bit of time this afternoon.”
Bennett grinned and then scooped her up, draping her over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stairs. They were halfway to the landing when the sound of breaking glass stopped them cold.
“Put me down,” Mia said, but Bennett was already lowering her to her feet.
“I’ll go check it out,” he offered.
“No,” she said. “That came from Mama’s room!”
She was already rushing past him, toward the former library that had been modified for Patricia.
But inside the door, she stopped abruptly.
There was no one there except her mother.
Patricia lay in the bed, motionless as always.
But the lamp beside her bed was broken on the floor, and the cord dangled from her fingertips.
“What is happening here?” she asked, terrified to even hope.
Bennett shook his head. “I wish to hell I knew, baby. I wish I knew.”