Chapter 2 #2
Like Wolf. Prick.
“Hey, Bro, I’m just gonna stay out here so Archer can do his business and have a sniff-around.” She leashed her dog and led him out of the backseat.
“You sure you don’t want to see this house? I hear it’s got a swimming pool and a racquetball court and a home theater almost as big as a real theater.”
Nothing worse than an entitled player. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Suit yourself,” Gage called back. “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
The gonging doorbell startled Quinn. It always did, even though he’d been in this ridiculous house over a month now.
He threw open the door to Nelson’s grinning face.
“Hey. C’mon in.” Over Nelson’s shoulder, he spotted a woman walking a dog along the grass median.
When she turned, he caught the flash of electric-pink hair. “Your sister’s welcome to come in too.”
Nelson glanced over his shoulder. “She’s gonna hang with her dog.”
Fine by me. Quinn wasn’t in the mood for Sarah Nelson’s acerbic tongue today anyway, especially not with the hangover mercilessly pounding his skull.
“Quinn,” came his mother’s shrill voice from somewhere.
Hell, the house was so big it was hard to tell which wing she might be in.
Not so far away, judging by the telltale thumping of her approaching wheelchair.
She rounded the corner into the foyer. Her eyes landed on Gage, and she smiled. “Who’s this?”
Quinn made the introductions. “He’s just here to drop off some new gear from one of the companies that sponsors him.”
“Oh.” Her eyes darted out the front door, and her face lit up. “Who’s the girl with the dog?”
“That’s my sister, Sarah,” Gage answered.
Mom practically flattened Gage on her way to the front door. “I love dogs! Yoo-hoo! Hey, doll! Come in! Bring your dog.”
Quinn suppressed his eye-roll. It would’ve only added to the thudding in his head anyway. Instead, he offered Nelson an apologetic shrug. Nelson answered with a no-big-deal shrug of his own.
Judging by the way Sarah Nelson’s head swiveled on her shoulders, she was surprised his mother was cajoling—no, roping her in.
And who the hell wouldn’t be? Sarah didn’t know his mother, nor did she know that once Elizabeth Hadley set her mind on something, you’d better get out of her way.
And even though he didn’t particularly like Miss Sunshine, he inwardly wished her luck.
“Yes, you,” his mother called to Sarah. “I’d like to meet your dog.”
And just like that, Sarah Nelson and her big, yellow, panting dog crowded into the foyer with them.
Well, not that the foyer was small enough to become crowded with a mere five souls, but everyone was clustered together.
The dog seemed to zero in on his mom, thrusting its head into her lap.
She patted it and crooned, “There’s a good boy. Oh, aren’t you a beauty!”
The dog responded with an enthusiastic tail wag.
Sarah smiled at his mom—a genuine, eye-brightening smile. Green eyes? “His name’s Archer.” Her voice held a huge dose of pride.
“Like the cartoon character?” Quinn and his mother both said at the same time. Though his mother didn’t seem to notice, his chin probably hit his chest. How did his mom know about Archer?
Sarah bobbed her head, her pink strands fluttering around her face. “Yes, that Archer.” That’s when Quinn noticed only the very front strands were pink. The rest of her short do was dark brown, a rich color that caught the light and reflected it in reds.
He managed to cough out, “You’ve watched Archer, Mom?”
“I own every season on DVD,” she murmured, though all of her attention was riveted on this Archer.
Suddenly, the dog backed up and out of her grasp and sat on its haunches, doing a canine version of standing at attention. It seemed to sniff the air, then glanced over its shoulder at Sarah and let out a whine.
Sarah’s dark brows knotted in a frown. “What’s up, Arch?”
Another little cry and he fidgeted like he wanted to jump up and take off.
Sarah pointed. “Seek.” The dog loped toward the kitchen, and they all fell in line behind, coming to an abrupt stop when it parked its furry butt once more and stared up at the kitchen island.
It was making a whiny-pant sound, its head swinging between Sarah and the island.
His mom gasped and pointed. “Oh my God! I forgot to take my pills this morning.”
Quinn snatched a little zippered cloth bag where his mother kept all her meds. As soon as he handed it to her, the dog seemed to settle down.
“Good boy, Archer,” Sarah sang.
Baffled, Quinn said, “What just happened?”
Sarah’s eyes danced with excitement. Gray?
“I’m not sure, but I think … He was trained to be a diabetes alert dog.
They can smell when something’s off with their human—like their blood sugar level is too high—and they alert a family member.
I’ve never seen him actually use that skill, though.
” A little laugh escaped her. “Ironically, he flunked his training, and that’s how I ended up with him. ”
“Well, he gets an A-plus from me,” Quinn’s mother said, causing his mind to whir. Most of their arguments were over caregivers he hired and she fired. Could he hire a dog as a caregiver? How much kibble would it demand in payment?
He filled a glass with water for his mom while she fiddled with the paisley pouch.
He held out his hand to help her open it, but she ignored him and fought the zipper.
Fine motor skills were eluding her today, but as usual her stubborn streak was sharp.
Sarah also extended her hand, and to his surprise his mother relinquished the bag.
He bit back the sting, telling himself at least his mother was willing to let someone help.
As Sarah finessed the zipper, his mom told her which pill container she needed.
Sarah plucked it out, uncapped it, and tapped out a pair of pills into Mom’s open palm.
Just like that. If only he could get the same cooperation.
After downing the pills, his mother looked from Sarah to Nelson and back again. “I’m Liz.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced you.”
Mom darted daggers at him. “Quinn Anthony Hadley! Jar!”
He returned an eye-roll, grabbed his wallet from the kitchen desk, and stuffed a bill into his mother’s idea of the perfect cure for swearing: a three-foot-high glass cylinder she lovingly called the “swear jar.” So what if the container was already half-full?
“Wow, dude,” Nelson chuckled. “Is that all you?”
His mom nodded and gave Nelson a smug smile. “I keep telling him he’s going to go broke.” Her eyes then riveted on Sarah. “Is your nose pierced?”
Sarah had been wearing a smile since she’d set foot in his house, and now that smile widened. “Yep. It’s a recent addition. What do you think?”
“Oh, girl, I love it! Is that a diamond?”
Oh girl? Quinn took a step back. Who was this woman in the wheelchair, and what had she done with his mother?
“Yes, it is. It was a recent splurge.” Sarah twirled her index finger.
“Celebrate a birthday or something?” Quinn asked.
She turned and looked at him for the first time since she’d walked in, and that brilliant smile slid from her face. “No. Just a whim.”
His mother whooped and clapped her hands. “I want one!”
“I’ll take you to get one, if you like,” Sarah offered. The smile was back in place as she addressed his mom. Her jacket had parted, giving him a look at a different T-shirt from yesterday’s. This one said, “I Do What the Voices in My Head Tell Me.”
Quinn stared at the scene in front of him. Since his mother had come to live with him—correction: since he’d traded in his awesome condo for this leviathan of a house just to accommodate her—she hadn’t been so lively.
Nelson jarred him from his woe-is-me wallowing. “Hey, Hads. Can I check out your home theater? I’m trying to get ideas for what I want to put in our new place.”
“Yeah, sure.” Though Quinn didn’t want to, inviting Nelson’s sister was the polite thing to do. “Do you want to come with us, Sarah?”
“No, she’s going to stay here and keep me company,” his bossy mother tossed out.
He arched his eyebrows in question at Sarah.
“I’ll stay here and chat with Liz,” she said with warmth directed at his mom.
Relieved, he led Nelson to the theater room. Nelson whistled softly. “Wow, Hads. This place rocks. You must love living here.”
“It’s okay.” Truth was, he missed his condo. A lot. It had spanned the top two floors of a stunning building—an architectural marvel with endless walls of glass. Perks of the building had included a rooftop gathering area complete with a heated infinity pool that drew lots of eye candy.
Clinging to the hope his mother’s unexpected presence in his life was a temporary setback, he couldn’t bring himself to put his one-of-a-kind bachelor pad on the market. So he’d let the building’s rental staff fill it with strangers who enjoyed it while he languished in suburbia.
He realized Nelson was staring at him, and he felt the need to elaborate. “Living here wasn’t my first choice, but I needed to rent a one-level quick, which meant slim pickings.”
Nelson nodded. “Your mom …”
“She’s got Parkinson’s. She doesn’t usually need the wheelchair, but with the way the disease progresses, it’ll become more and more of a necessity.
She was living with my brother, but when his third kid arrived, she needed a more relaxed environment.
” Quinn left out the part that she’d become more dependent on the wheelchair, and that he suspected it was amped-up stress caused by living with him.
Damn, he didn’t want her to backslide, especially on account of him.
“So how does that work when you’re gone? Do you have someone come in?”
Quinn smiled at the irony. “I’ve been trying.
She’s gone through three caregivers in a month.
Last night, she called me at the bar to tell me she’d fired the latest one.
” Seeing his mom’s number pop up had scared the ever-loving shit out of him.
But after he took the call, he’d been royally pissed off.
Nelson nodded. “That’s gotta suck.”
Quinn puffed out a breath. “Yeah, it slowed me down for a hot minute. Somehow, though, I still got hammered enough to need a ride home.” He’d pounded down a slew of rum and Cokes before switching to tequila shooters.
Bad idea. He hadn’t had an abundance of brain cells to spare as it was, and the partying had disabled the few he did have—as he’d proven when he wound up in the backseat of his Ram truck with the blond fish.
Dory. They’d steamed up the windows fucking each other stupid.
Not his smartest play, but the drunker he’d gotten, the better she’d looked, and lust mixed with frustration had given logic a swift kick to the curb.
In the end? It hadn’t been nearly as hot as his dick had led him to believe it would be, but that seemed to be the way with all his hookups lately. In this case, he’d been left with a twanged butt muscle and buyer’s remorse.
He glanced over at Nelson, who was inspecting the screen. “So you and Lily. Things good with you being crowded together in that tiny little house? Wedding’s still on for August?”
A shit-eating grin spread all over Nelson’s face, followed by a look Quinn could only call blissful satisfaction. Wonder what that felt like?
“Wedding’s definitely still on,” Nelson said, “and we’ll be settled in the new place and able to spread out before that. Sarah and Archer will move into the guesthouse.”
This brought to the fore a question that had been spinning in Quinn’s head. “So what made your sister move all of a sudden?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. But I plan to drag it out of her today.”
“Well, good luck with that, Nelsy.” Judging by the glimpse Quinn had had of Sarah Nelson’s prickly personality, she wasn’t the type to do anything she didn’t want to. Just like his mom. They could have been peas hanging out in the same pod.