Chapter 36
Q uinn sat in the car feeling so tense he thought the steering wheel might break under his grasp. Part of him wanted to barge in there and tell the asshole to get the hell out of Delilah’s house. But he knew that would be the equivalent of peeing on his territory, and he urged himself to be better than that. Delilah wasn’t his territory, and if she wasn’t allowed to work this out herself—if he didn’t give her the space she needed to take charge of her own life—there wouldn’t be much point in them pursuing their relationship, anyway.
After a while, the asshole came out of the house with Jesse and Gavin, got into his car, and drove away.
The thing that struck Quinn about that—the thing that would stick with him—was how happy the boys looked in the company of their father. Yes, Gavin was sucking his thumb again—that stress-induced habit was back—but they both looked excited. Joyous, really. It occurred to Quinn that he would do just about anything, no matter how difficult, no matter how distasteful, to make them feel that way again.
He was still making his way up the front walk when the Realtor arrived, and that was lousy timing. He needed to talk to Delilah. He needed to assess the situation, find out what happened.
“Oh, hello, Quinn!” The Realtor waved at him with enthusiasm. “Are you ready to see some houses?”
“You bet!” He flashed a thumbs-up and opened the front door for her like a gentleman.
The tension was thick as they rode in the Realtor’s car toward the first house Delilah would be seeing.
Delilah, sitting next to him in the back seat, flashed him a look of apology and squeezed his hand as the Realtor chattered about housing prices, kitchen layouts, and bedroom counts.
“I feel like a chauffeur up here. Ha, ha!” She threw a look over her shoulder toward her passengers.
“We need to talk,” Quinn said quietly.
“I know. We will.”
Delilah looked stressed and tense, but she didn’t look distraught, the way she would have if Mitch had told her he was filing for custody. So, that was something.
They got the chance to talk while they were viewing the first house. The place wasn’t right for Delilah—only two bedrooms and the back yard was too small—but she told Sue, their Realtor, that she and Quinn needed some time alone in the house to discuss it.
“Of course. Of course! I’ll just be out on the back patio. You two take your time!” She clacked over to the sliding glass door on her high heels and went outside.
When they were alone, Delilah took Quinn by the hand and led him into the master bedroom.
There, in the privacy of the room filled with someone else’s bed and lamps and shoes, she told Quinn what had happened.
“He asked you to come back to him?” Quinn tried not to raise his voice, but it was hard.
“He did. But I don’t think he meant it. I think he’s got a lot of things on his mind. For one thing, I don’t think things are going well between him and Celine since I told him what I found out about her. For another, he misses the boys. Christmas hit him hard. Spending it without them. I didn’t think he cared, but he does. Missing the holiday with them made him see what he’s thrown away. And then, hearing the way the boys gushed about you—it scared him. He thinks he’s losing them.”
Quinn put his hands on his hips and let out a rough breath. “Well, he is going to lose them if he doesn’t move his ass back from Paris and spend some damned time with them.”
“That’s what I told him.”
Quinn rubbed the stubble on his chin and considered what she’d said. “And the thing he said about wanting to get back together with you?”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, went up on tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Not in a million years.”
He grinned, feeling a release of more tension than he’d realized he was holding. “Really?”
“Really.”
Sue called from the front room, “So, how’s it coming in here?”
They looked at three more houses: one in Marine Terrace, one in Pine Knolls, and another on Lodge Hill.
While they toured kitchens and bathrooms, spare rooms and garage space, Quinn began to form a plan.
It wasn’t going to work if both Delilah and the asshole weren’t on board, but if they were, it could be kind of great.
The plan might have seemed ridiculous or over the top to someone watching from the outside of the situation, but it actually made sense for a number of reasons: One, it might put the asshole at ease. If he decided Quinn wasn’t a threat to him, he’d be more likely to back off and forget the idea of suing for custody. Two, it would position Quinn as the bigger man, which was convenient, because he really did want to be that bigger man. He wanted to rise above. Three, it would make the boys ridiculously happy.
In the end, reason three was the only one that mattered.
Quinn’s father had left when Quinn was barely older than Jesse was now. Yeah, the guy had been a dick, but that didn’t make Quinn love him or want him any less.
What would it have meant to Quinn if someone had done just what he was planning? How big a moment would that have been in his life?
He’d have never forgotten it, that was for sure.
He was in the position to give that to Jesse and Gavin.
How could he not?
He ran the idea past Delilah that night while they were sitting on the sofa after the boys were in bed. He laid out the idea, how they would accomplish it, and his reasons for doing it.
At first, she simply looked astonished, like she must have misheard him.
“You’d do that for Mitch?” she said.
“For him? Oh, hell no. But I’d do it for the boys.”
She grinned and leaned over to kiss him. The kiss was long and leisurely and enthusiastic.
“I’m thinking that’s a yes?” he asked.
“Have I mentioned to you yet that I love you?” she asked.
“You haven’t. But no time like the present.”
“I love you, Quinn.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “That’s convenient for me, because I love you, too.”
The next morning, Delilah called Mitch on his cell phone and told him the plan. He would be staying in town a couple of days to spend time with the boys, so there was no reason it shouldn’t work out.
“Really?” he said.
“Yes, really. If you want to do it.”
“That’s unbelievably nice of you, Delilah. Given … you know. Everything.”
“It was Quinn’s idea.”
“Jesus. Was it?”
“Yes. I hope you’ll remember that before you treat him like crap again.”
“Okay. Yeah, I get it.”
Delilah felt a glimmer of excitement even as she fought the urge to hang up on him. “Six a.m. sharp. I swear to God, if you’re late, or if you don’t show up—”
“I’ll be there. Hey, is there a toy store in town, or …?”
She sighed. “There’s a toy store on Main Street, there’s a Target in San Luis Obispo, and there’s a Walmart in Paso Robles. You’ll figure it out.” And then she did hang up on him.
The whole thing took some preparation on Quinn and Delilah’s part. They had most of what they needed, and what they didn’t have, Quinn borrowed from Mrs. Foster.
They got up at four a.m. to put everything in place. Delilah had considered doing it the night before, after the boys were asleep, but she didn’t want to risk somebody getting out of bed for a glass of water and spoiling the surprise.
Instead, they hauled themselves out of bed at an absurd hour and worked as silently as possible in the hours before dawn, like the Tooth Fairy.
Or like elves.