Chapter 30
Did Not See That One Coming
Lurking at the back of Sarah’s mind were two inescapable perceptions: First, Liz had been acting strangely distant since Quinn and Sarah’s first “date,” and while no one pointed to the elephant in the room, Sarah was convinced Liz knew what she and Quinn were doing after lights-out.
Second, while Sarah enjoyed her intimate time with Quinn, she questioned whether their fledgling relationship would wither on the vine.
Was it merely a COVIDism, a consequence of being forced to shelter in place together, or something more that could outlast whatever their “new normal” would be?
These thoughts drifted in her head as she prepared to check on Gage and Lily’s house.
Maybe getting out of her pleasant bubble, driving across town and seeing firsthand that the world still spun on its axis, would infuse her with a sense of reality and force her to plan for what came next.
She couldn’t live with Quinn and his mom forever.
Quinn walked her and Archer to the garage, stealing a kiss before he helped her into her Jeep. “You sure you don’t want me to go with you, babe?”
Sarah shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ve got Arch, and he’ll save me from any big, bad bogeymen. Besides, my lips could use the break.”
Dark eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me you want me to stop kissing you?”
She chuckled. “No. Just seeing if you’re paying attention.”
He leaned in and laid a knee-melting kiss on her. “When it comes to your lips,” he murmured, “I’m always paying attention.” He pulled back and shut her car door. “You’re back in an hour, right?”
She gave him an exaggerated eye-roll. “Yes, Sparky. And if I’m running late, I’ll text or call you.”
“How about you text me when you get there and again when you leave?”
She nodded her agreement, stifling the exasperated sigh lurking in her chest.
“Okay, then. You may leave.” He followed this with a royal hand-roll.
“Why, thank you, benevolent master.”
Winding along the drive, she peeked at her rearview mirror, where Quinn’s big frame stood by the open garage door.
One last wave, and he disappeared from sight.
Overprotective and overattentive were adjectives she never would have imagined using for Quinn Hadley, nor could she have envisioned herself enjoying either.
They should have chafed her independent self, but oddly she liked it.
He had a way of making her feel special, important.
The way he treated his mother, but different.
Sarah doubted any of his puck bunnies had burrowed that far into his world, and she would take in whatever she could and savor the ride as long as it lasted. Eyes wide-open.
She turned down the alleyway behind Lily’s house and pulled in front of the detached garage.
Before exiting the Jeep, she sent Quinn a quick text letting him know she’d arrived.
With a flip of the picket gate’s latch, she let herself and Archer into the backyard.
The dog took particular interest in a flower bed beside the back door as she fumbled with the key.
He snuffled and pawed at the ground where some early spring blooms lay broken atop the soil, as though they’d been trampled.
Probably some neighborhood cat using the bed as its outdoor litter box.
“Arch, stay out of the dirt.”
Sarah unlocked the door, and Archer wedged his nose in the crack, flinging it wide in his eagerness to get inside.
“Jeez, Arch. What’s the big rush?”
While Archer ran from room to room, Sarah closed the door behind them, dropped her keys and phone on the kitchen table, and started a sweep of the little house.
Nothing out of place, no strange smells, everything buttoned up tight.
The place looked as though the family had been living there all along and had just stepped out to run an errand.
Sarah headed toward the two bedrooms, and Archer streaked past her, tongue and tail wagging in time.
“Wow, Arch. I had no idea you liked it here so much.”
In the master bedroom, a gust of cold air took her by surprise.
Checking the windows turned up nothing. When she reached the bathroom, the air grew colder, and soon she spotted the reason why: a small window above the toilet was open.
Only a few inches, but enough to let the chill in.
Was it always open like that? She’d ask Gage when she texted him at the end of her inspection.
Another quick look-see, and Sarah made for the kitchen to lock up and leave. The low sound of a male voice sent shards of ice shooting from the base of her spine to her neck. She stopped in her tracks. Was she hearing things? Was someone merely talking outside?
“Archer?” she whispered.
She crept toward the kitchen and called his name again.
Though she couldn’t see him, he returned an excited little whimper.
Every alarm in her body went off at once, and she glanced over her shoulder at the front door.
Run outside? What would she be running from?
And then what? Her keys and phone were in the kitchen.
Besides, Archer was her warning system. Had someone been there, she told herself, he’d have barked or growled instead of emitting the one happy cry.
Somewhat mollified, neck hairs nevertheless at full attention, Sarah shuffled a few more steps and caught sight of Archer’s backside. He was sitting, almost dancing in place, his tail sweeping the floor like an animated dust mop. There couldn’t have been a threat.
Several more steps, and she got a full view of the kitchen … and realized how sadly mistaken she’d been. Her keys and phone were gone, and there stood Wolf, blocking the back door, patting Archer’s head while the dog scarfed down chunks of meat littering the floor. No wonder he didn’t bark!
Wolf raised icy blue eyes to hers, and one side of his mouth curled into a thin smile. “Everything comes to he who waits.”
Quinn glanced at his phone. Again. Ten minutes past when he’d expected Sarah home, but he told himself to chill the fuck out.
It’s only ten minutes. Except she’d sent only the one text when she’d reached Nelson’s house.
She’d promised to text when she left, but he hadn’t gotten that message yet.
Sarah was many things, but she wasn’t flaky—which was one among countless reasons why he’d fallen for her.
He tapped her a message and eyed his beanbags. Funny how he hadn’t had the urge to juggle lately. But he sure as hell needed to now, so he picked them up and started tossing them in the air, one ear cocked for an incoming text.
She decided to run an errand and forgot. She got caught up talking to neighbors. She found a problem, and Gage is talking her through it.
“Quinnster?” his mom said from across the kitchen. “You look agitated.”
“Hi, Momster. Didn’t see you there.”
“Because I just got here. Sarah still out?”
He caught the bags and blew out a frustrated breath. “Yep.”
“Is that why you’re worked up? She’s not on another date, is she?” Soft crinkles of amusement appeared around his mother’s mouth and her bright blue eyes. Another time, he might have let her teasing slide off his back. Instead, he found himself shaking his head, stifling the urge to bark, “No!”
“Well, maybe it’s best she’s not here right now. I need to talk to you.”
He straightened and gave his mom his full attention.
“About?” Is this the part where she tells me she’s heard us through the ventilation and to stop fucking the staff?
Except Sarah wasn’t staff. And they’d been pretty damn discreet.
And he wasn’t just fucking her—they were learning about each other, physically and mentally. Totally different.
His mother crossed the expanse and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. With some effort, she hoisted herself onto a stool.
“Are you hurting?” Quinn frowned, not masking the concern in his voice.
She flicked her hand. “A little bit. I’ve had a tiny setback, but I’ll be better soon. How’s your shoulder?”
Nice divert. “My shoulder’s been fine. Back to you.
I haven’t seen you stretching or soaking in the hot tub much lately.
Maybe you should get back to it?” She gave him a gimlet eye that had him backpedaling.
“You tell me or Sarah if you need anything.” He paused a beat and braced himself.
“So what is it you need to talk to me about?”
He could not have prepared himself for what came out of his mother’s mouth. No matter how much steel he willed into his spine, it folded like an overcooked noodle.
“Well,” she cleared her throat, “You might have noticed me acting strangely lately. That’s because I, ah, asked your father for a divorce.
Apparently, it shook him up, and he started calling …
and emailing. We’ve been talking. A lot.
He wants to … He’s asked that we spend some time together—alone—and see if we can work through our differences. ”
Quinn sat in shocked silence for a beat, finally blurting, “Why would you do that, Mom? How’s he going to deal with your Parkinson’s any differently now than he did back then, which was not dealing with it?”
She picked at the hem of her shirt, her gaze cast down.
“That’s some of what we plan to explore.
He’s making his way home now, through Serbia or something.
I expect to see him in a day or so, after he’s had a chance to settle in and get over his jet lag.
” With a wan smile, she raised her head and met his eyes. “Well?”
Well what? What am I supposed to say? “You expect him here. Where’s here?”
“In Denver. A friend’s letting him use his patio home while he’s away. I’ve agreed to stay there for a few days with your dad.”