28. Quinn
28
quinn
My eyes are barely open when I feel Porter’s hand pulling me back into him.
He did this a few times last night. It’s like every time he felt me move, he needed to make sure I didn’t go too far.
Which, I don’t blame him. I’m nothing if not a flight risk.
Except that every time he pulled me closer, and I felt his chest against me, I knew I was right where I belonged.
It only took me eight years, quitting a job, one baby, and four determined sisters, to realize it.
“Good morning.”
Porter’s gravelly morning voice sends a shiver through my body as he pulls me in even tighter, which I didn’t know was possible.
“Good morning to you.”
Porter’s lips graze my shoulder, leaving small kisses in its path. When I finally roll over, I have to blink to make sure this is real life.
God, he’s even more handsome in the morning. Maybe it’s the light. Or his hair that’s a mess from our night and sleep. Or that his bare chest is quite a sight to see before my morning coffee. And even more so, the way he’s looking at me? A small smile that’s filled with warmth. Calm eyes as he traces his fingers up and down my arm. He looks completely content.
Happy.
With me.
“You think a lot in the morning.”
I laugh as he pulls me closer to him, our faces the perfect distance away to sneak a kiss here and there.
“Believe me, this isn’t normal,” I joke. But when the laughter dies on my lips, I’m left silent, wondering how I tell him all the things I need to say.
All the things I want to say. Things I’ve been scared to admit for eight years.
“Hey,” he says, tipping my chin up. “Breathe. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
His words of encouragement help a little as I take a few moments to actually think before I speak.
Wow. So many new things in such a short amount of time…
“Do you know why I never stayed?”
I’m not sure if this is the best place to start, but it’s going to come up at some point, so might as well lead off with it.
“I’ve had my suspicions,” he says. “They ranged from not wanting to do a morning walk of shame in front of your parents to that you turned into a hawk in the morning and didn’t want me to see your transformation.”
I think I stop blinking. “You know LadyHawke ?”
He sends me a wink. “There’s a lot you’re about to learn about me.”
Damn. How does a man knowing a 1980s romantasy cult classic movie suddenly make him instantly hotter?
“Okay, well we’re diving into that later,” I say, as I need to get back on track. “But it was none of those things.”
I take a breath, and for a second I consider making a joke and weaving my way out of this. But then I feel Porter’s hand at the tip of my chin, his thumb lightly stroking my skin. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Somehow, just his touch and a simple look is all I need.
“I didn’t want this moment,” I begin. “Well, not this exact moment. This is great. Perfect. Ten out of ten. But what I didn’t want was the next morning. You looking at me in the morning light. I didn’t want to take the risk that when you woke up the next day, that you’d regret what we did the night before.”
“Quinn…I nev?—”
I hold up my finger to his lips. “You never, and I mean ever, did anything to make me think that. This was all me and my self-doubt creeping into my head. You did nothing wrong.”
I let my finger slip away, but not before he takes it in his hand to bring it to his mouth. “I hate that you felt that way. Please know, that when I asked you to stay, each and every time, it’s because I wanted this moment. And maybe some morning sex.”
I laugh, thankful that he’s helping me keep this as light as possible. “I’ve actually never had morning sex.”
“Really? Does that mean…”
I nod. “Even if I was dating someone, I never spent the night. I was always gone before they woke up. Because even though I’ve learned to love myself, and most days I’m confident with my life and body, there are times where I’m still Big Girl Banks. And when those thoughts creep in, usually when I’m naked and in the light of day, I go back to high school, where I lived with the belief that guys like Porter McCoy really didn’t want to date girls like Quinn Banks, let alone sleep with them.”
Holy shit. I said it. The thing that scared me the most in the entire world. The thing that always kept me at an arm’s length from any man I ever dated.
What held me back from falling in love with the man lying next to me.
“Thank you for telling me that,” Porter says. “And if there’s ever, and I mean ever, any time those little nuggets of doubt creep in, you just give me the signal. I’ll make it my personal mission to remind you that I’m obsessed with your body, and it would be my honor—nay, my duty—to remind you that you’re by far, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I lean in for a kiss that becomes heated in an instant. I mean, how can I not? I’m lying here in a bed with a hot as hell man who hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me since we fell into this bed together, who last night told me he loved me and just made me feel completely at ease with my deepest, darkest confession?
Oh shit. I almost forgot that he told me he loved me.
Porter loves me.
Me. Hurricane Banks. And while that’s shocking enough on face value, it’s not as shocking as me knowing without a shadow of a doubt that I love him.
I love how he has embraced instant fatherhood. I love how he bites his lip and squints a little when he’s trying to figure something out. I love how he might come off as the flirty, and sometimes a little broody, bar owner, but in reality he’s sponsored more Little League teams and festival booths than anyone in this town. I love how he’s kept his father’s legacy alive at The Joint while also making it his own place. I love that he somehow knows when I need words of encouragement, or if I just need silence to figure something out.
And I especially love how he’s now deepening the kiss, rolling me to my back for the all the mornings we’ve never had.
“So long,” he mumbles as he starts kissing down my body. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“No more.”
I let myself and lay back, the sun now directly shining into the bedroom, as Porter’s tongue begins to do what it does so well. I throw one arm up lazily over my head as I let the other one comb through his hair, making it messier than it already is.
Could this be it? Could each day be like this? I mean, I’m not demanding that Porter eats me out every morning—though I wouldn’t be complaining—but could lazy and romantic mornings like this exist? I feel like they could.
Wait, is this what it would’ve been like? If I would’ve stayed, if maybe just once, is this what the morning would’ve been? Porter’s tongue taking its time as he licks and sucks while I lay back in complete bliss? Part of me thinks that yes, the act would’ve been here. But the emotion? The love? I don’t think Quinn from eight years ago would’ve been able to handle this. Hell, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it last year.
No, everything happens for a reason. And maybe Mrs. Metcalf was right. Maybe my fairytale is just starting.
Though I never read the one where the prince ate pussy like it was his last meal. I would’ve for sure read that one.
I moan and let my hips writhe against his mouth as he starts teasing my center with his fingers.
“Fuck yes,” I whisper.
He doesn’t speed up his efforts, instead making sure he’s hitting every spot just right. And holy shit is he. The feel of his fingers now inside me, the flick of his tongue against my clit, it’s all too much.
I feel my orgasm start to build up and I reach back for the bar on this headboard, begging it to come through me. And just as I feel it in the pit of my stomach, it immediately curls back into me with the telltale sound of Grace’s small cries.
“No, no, no!” I yell, begging my orgasms to come back. “I’m so close.”
Even though I know this is not a two-way monitor, it’s like Grace knows what’s about to happen, and her cries go from small to consistently even. And so sad.
“Ugh,” I blurt out, my body falling limp as Porter’s mouth and fingers also stop working their magic.
Kids, cockblocking parents and guardians since the beginning of time.
“Note to self: remember to work quickly in the morning as a child will apparently somehow have impeccable timing.”
I laugh as Porter crawls his way back up to me, leaving a kiss on my shoulder before he rolls out of bed. “I’ll go get her. Wait here.”
Like I could get up if I wanted. Though, it does hit me that I’m naked and Porter is bringing Grace back to the bed, so I hurry and dig through his drawer to find a T-shirt to slip on. Just as I do, the door opens and my heart melts in an instant.
Grace’s head is resting on his shoulder, the tip of her thumb in her mouth, as he carries her back to the bed.
“Hey, Miss Ma’am,” I whisper, her sleepy eyes still half shut as we sit on the bed. “Did you sleep good?”
Of course she did. This girl has two modes of sleep operation—like a rock or not at all. And since we didn’t hear her last night, I’m going to assume it was the first.
You know what? I’m going to give her a pass on interrupting us this morning. She’s a real star for sleeping through last night.
“Here we go,” Porter whispers as he lays her down between us. “I think we could all use a lazy morning.”
The three of us lay there, not saying anything, as Grace slowly starts to wake up. Porter’s hand reaches over her, our fingers gently playing with the others, as we just lay and watch this little girl, who I’m just realizing is the reason I’m here.
“Do you think this would have happened without her?” I ask, because until right now, I don’t know if this thought really hit me.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “I’d like to think it would’ve.”
“So do I. But then again, I know how stubborn I was.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Was?”
“Fine. Am,” I say as Grace starts cooing between us. “Exactly, Miss Ma’am. Tell me all about how stubborn I am.”
Grace starts giggling as I rub my nose into her belly. I’m so lost in her little laughs that I don’t realize until I look up that Porter is staring at us.
“What?”
He shakes his head slightly. “Just looking at my girls.”
Oh damn…that hit me in a way I wasn’t ready for.
“Your girls, huh?”
“Yeah,” he says, picking up Grace and laying her on his stomach. He holds out his arm for me, allowing me to snuggle in with my head on his shoulder. “I never knew I wanted this. I didn’t want to be a dad. I didn’t want a relationship. I didn’t want any of this…but now…now I can’t imagine my life without it.”
I understand his words completely. I never thought I wanted to move back or live in Rolling Hills. I never wanted a relationship. I never saw myself as a mother figure. Cool aunt? Hell, yeah. But keeping a human alive? Absolutely not.
But the thought of not being here? Away from him? Grace? My family? It’s unimaginable.
I guess you can truly say never say never. Because there are so many nevers I’m about to break it’s not even funny.
Because get ready, Rolling Hills. Quinn Banks is back, baby!