Chapter 22
Quinn darted from the desk to the back counter, verifying the pieces the Easton Harbor Art Gallery had received on consignment had been catalogued properly.
Despite the bright interior lights, dark, stormy clouds outside the window made the winter day gloomy…much like Quinn’s recent mood. Or maybe it was her life.
She and Brett had been getting along so well. He surprised her with spontaneous romantic outings, showering her with flowers and thoughtful love notes. Her soulmate had courted her, as Elizabeth had teased, “in a most serious manner.”
Brett was everything Quinn could want—thoughtful, caring, sharing common interests, funny, with a quiet, assured air, a man who was comfortable with who he was.
She admired those qualities and many more. In fact, there were times she literally had to pinch herself. “Prince Charmings” like Brett were few and far between. The way he made her heart flutter, how she felt when he kissed her, how her heart pitter-pattered whenever he walked into the room.
To sum it up, Quinn had finally found a man she could envision one day marrying, raising a family and creating a loving home. The couple’s relationship had been hunky-dory until the day Tristan Blakely and his uncle showed up on Easton Estate’s doorstep.
A tinge of guilt filled Quinn. It wasn’t Tristan’s fault. The boy had lost his mother and was living with an uncle who couldn’t care for him, even though he tried. The man he looked up to as a father figure had gone MIA.
And he was a nice kid—thoughtful, affectionate and filled with wonder at living on Easton Island, which made her feel even more like a heel. Brett, working hard to ensure his son felt loved and welcome, was showering him with attention, both understandable and necessary.
The fact of the matter was, Quinn no longer knew where she fit into Brett’s life. Things will settle down soon, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. The entire Easton family was going through a period of adjustment, even Morgan, who was making a point of being involved in Tristan’s life.
Try harder.
“I will,” Quinn whispered to the empty room. “Tristan deserves one-hundred percent support from everyone in his life. I’m going to step up,” she vowed. “Starting today.”
With the solemn vow firmly set in her mind, she finished inventorying the art and tidying her desk.
A customer arrived, searching for a birthday gift. After going over several pieces, the man finally selected a Sia Vortman piece from an up-and-coming artist who was popular in the Great Lakes region.
“We offer gift wrapping now.” Quinn showed him the rolls of paper on the wall behind the desk. “Would you like the painting wrapped?”
“I’m not good at wrapping. What a great perk.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, casually looking around. “Does Mrs. Easton still own this place?”
“Mrs. Easton-Ainsworth. She does and even works here when she’s in town.
” Quinn prepared the artwork, protecting the delicate piece by wrapping it in glassine, a translucent paper.
She ran a strip of tape along the center and then added corner protectors before placing it inside a cardboard box. “Which paper would you like?”
“The gold.”
“Excellent choice and my personal favorite.” Eyeballing the amount needed, Quinn expertly cut a sheet of the embossed gold foil paper and placed it on the counter. “Do you live on Easton Island?”
“No. I’m from Port Huron but am here visiting my birthday friend. I noticed the gallery was open and decided to stop in. I’m glad I did.”
Quinn finished wrapping the gift and placed a glittery gold bow on top. Completing the transaction, the man left, and the gallery was once again quiet.
With only a few minutes left before closing, she cleaned the coffee pot, turned the breakroom’s dishwasher on and grabbed her things.
After a quick check to make sure the back door was locked, she started to shut the lights off when the overhead bell chimed.
She hurried out of the breakroom and came to an abrupt halt when she discovered who it was. “Brett.”
“Hello. For a minute there, I thought I had already missed you.” He held up a pink bag. “I happened to be passing by the little art gallery you and I stumbled upon last time we were in Toronto together. Wouldn’t you know…the watercolor you were eyeing was still for sale, so I snatched it up.”
Quinn reached for the bag and peeked inside. She removed the ocean scene, waves gently rolling onto shore. Turquoise waters. The sun dipped low on the horizon, with a backdrop in hues of pink, purple and dark blue.
“You said it reminded you of Fort Myers. If I remember correctly, you have an empty spot on your living room wall, near the lamp we found while Christmas shopping in those antique stores near Harbourfront Centre.”
“How sweet of you. Thank you.” Quinn bounced onto the tips of her toes, intending to kiss his cheek.
Brett turned at that precise moment and leaned in. His kiss was warm, tender, full of love, and her heart melted.
He placed his hand on the back of her head and drew her even closer; the kiss deepening.
All thoughts of hurt feelings and rejection vanished. Brett was there for her.
Finally, she pulled away, breathless. “I do believe your kiss curled my toes.”
“In a good way,” he huskily replied.
“The best.” Quinn cradled the bag. “I thought you would be home.”
“I stopped by earlier to drop my bags off. Jeff Blakely is coming to visit Tristan. Grandmother and Morgan offered to hang out with them tonight, which gave me some free time to spend with the love of my life.” Brett ran a light hand along her arm.
“What are the chances of me persuading you to join me for dinner?”
“Excellent. I’ll need to let Esther out.”
“It will give me a chance to help you hang your artwork. How does sampling the new seafood restaurant sound?”
“We’ve been talking about trying it.”
Brett helped Quinn slip her jacket on. “I heard their sea scallops are amazing.”
“Yum, yum.” She made quick work of locking the gallery’s front door and took Brett’s arm, strolling along the sidewalk to his sedan parked a few feet away.
She reached for the door handle. He stopped her. “It’s date night. Allow me to open your door, madame.”
Quinn lowered her eyelids. “Yes, sir.” She slid onto the leather seat and waited for him to make his way around.
It was a quick drive to her rental cottage, only a few blocks away. Once again, he insisted on opening her door and taking her arm.
Esther stood at the window, her tail wagging ninety miles an hour when she spotted them.
“There’s my girl,” Quinn cooed. “Guess who stopped by to see you?”
Brett greeted the pup, giving her back scratchies. “We’re not staying long, but if you let us sneak out to grab a bite to eat, we’ll bring you back a surprise.”
“I’ll go find my toolbox.” Quinn tracked down her toolkit and returned to the living room. “I’ve been wondering what I should put in that bare spot.”
He held the frame against the wall. “Is this high enough?”
“Perfect.” She gave him a thumbs up.
He finished hanging it, and the couple stood back to admire the ocean scene.
Quinn snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ll think of you every time I look at it.”
Brett caressed her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. It’s been…hectic.”
“With Tristan and trying to help him settle in.” Brett placed a light kiss on her forehead and picked up her coat. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
Returning to his vehicle, the couple reached the restaurant less than a minute later. The hostess greeted them and led them to a cozy corner table.
Quinn flipped open the menu and perused the entrees. “I must be starving. Everything sounds good.”
“Let’s pick two meals and share them,” Brett suggested.
“You read my mind.” After some deliberation, Quinn finally settled on blackened snapper with au gratin potatoes while Brett chose the sea scallops and creamy risotto.
While they dined, the couple talked about the holidays, the gallery, Easton Holdings and some of his upcoming business trips. It was like old times…before Brett was too busy for her.
“I want to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For being busy and preoccupied with Tristan. I’m afraid I may have neglected you.”
Quinn lowered her head. “It’s okay,” she said in a small voice.
“No, it’s not. I love you, and there’s no excuse for my recent behavior.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Will you forgive me?”
Their eyes met, and Quinn knew right then it would be all right.
She and Brett would be okay as long as they communicated, practiced a healthy dose of patience and gave each other an ample supply of grace.
She loved Brett, loved him for making a point of carving out a few hours to reconnect.
It meant a lot…the world, to her. They were in this together.
It wasn’t her versus Tristan. Brett had enough love and room in his heart for both of them. Her role was to support him and let Tristan know he had one more friend, one more ally on Easton Island.