Chapter 25
I want to know why my clothes only get stuck on door handles when I’m in a bad mood.
—Text from Hollis to Quincy
HOLLIS
Ilearned that Quincy’s job was a real bitch.
Forthree mornings in a row, he’d had to go into work.
Andfor three mornings in a row, I hadn’t seen him for the majority of the day.
Lastnight, we’d met at my place.
Thepast two days, it’d been at his.
Andwe still hadn’t gotten to go see the house he was building, which was a real bummer.
Todaywas my day off, and I was a little bit bummed that Quincy was called into work at five this morning.
Thegood thing was, he had job security. The bad, it meant that people were dying.
Thinkingabout people dying reminded me that the story was supposed to break this morning on Taite and Alana.
Whichhad me pulling out my phone to search social media.
Thefirst thing that came up was a photo of Taite and Alana, both in handcuffs, being led into the DallasPoliceDepartment.
Icouldn’t help the smirk that tipped up the corner of my lip as I saw the sight.
I’djust clicked on the article when a text popped up at the top of the screen.
Quincy:
Iwon’t be back any time soon. I’m sorry.
Smilingat his obvious attempt to keep me in the loop after the stuff that had happened a few days ago—i.e. him going to Kentucky without first telling me he would be flying out of state—he’d been pretty good at letting me know what he was doing, and whether he would be making it back in time to grab dinner with me.
Overall, it felt a whole lot like a real relationship, and I liked it a lot.
Ihad this peace inside of me that I hadn’t had at any other time in my life.
Itwas… addicting.
Me:
Dang. If you can meet up for lunch, let me know. I’m going to go to Kinny’s and see if I can switch out the carburetor on my car.
Quincy:
10-4
Quincywasn’t a texter. Which was why him texting me made my heart sing.
Forgettingabout checking out the article that I was about to read on Taite, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and headed for my purse.
OnceI was outside, I walked to my car, waving at the homeless guy as I did.
Hewaved back before reaching into a Chick-Fil-A bag in his hand. He came back out with a fry and winked.
I’dactually never learned his name.
Theone time I’d asked, he said he didn’t have one, and I’d left it alone. I did drop some food off to him every once in a while. Or when I had too many leftovers that I didn’t think I was going to get to eat all of them before they expired.
Othersin my apartment complex did the same, hence the bag of Chick-Fil-A he had on hand.
Iheaded straight for Kinny’s and smiled when I saw him leaned over a car, dirty from elbows down.
Helooked up when I pulled my car up to his shop and said, “Bay three is wide open.”
Inodded and parked my car, then got out and went to him.
“Did my carburetor come in?” I asked in greeting.
“Hello to you, too.” He smirked. “And yes. It’s on the desk.”
Iwent to find the box, then headed for my car.
Kinnyand I worked in companionable silence for a whole three minutes before he headed in my direction, a red rag in his hand as he cleaned his fingers free of grease.
“So, you and my best friend, huh?”
Ilooked at Kinny with a raised brow. “How do you know about that?”
Washe telling everyone we were together? And if he was, why did that make me want to clap my hands in giddy excitement?
Kinnyrolled his eyes. “He’s my best friend, Hollis. What did you think he was going to do? Keep you a secret?”
Ishook my head. “I guess not.”
Hefrowned. “What’s wrong?”
Ithought about telling him nothing, but in the end chose to tell him the truth.
“I’m scared that I’m catching feelings and he’s not,” I admitted.
Thatwas when KinnyFink laughed in my face. His big, barrel chest utterly guffawed at my obvious discomfort.
Icrossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.
Hekept belly laughing for a solid minute before he was able to control himself.
“Let’s make a bet,” he said. “You walk into the PD. You go looking for him. He’ll be in the middle of the room with a bunch of other cops. And if he doesn’t give you the biggest fuckin’ smile, and kiss the hell out of you, then he doesn’t feel the same. If he doesn’t kiss you, you and me will go to BarrettJackson in LasVegas this weekend. If he does, you have to bring back lunch.”
Inarrowed my eyes, then said, “And what’ll be my reason for dropping by?”
Heshrugged. “Go get a couple of cookies or something. Then you’ll have a reason. Or bring him lunch.”
Idropped the wrench I was about to start using on the cabinet next to my car, then moved everything off of it so I could close the hood.
“Leave it,” he said. “Take my ride.”
Ichose to follow his advice.
Istopped by PieHard and bought every single cookie that she had left.
Itwasn’t many. Just about three dozen.
“You’re a Godsend!” she said as she looked at me with tears in your eyes. “The circus family came in, and posted about this place, and now I can’t keep cookies on the shelf! It’s nine a.m., and I’m all empty!”
Igrinned at her. “You deserve it. All this is so good.”
Everylast cookie she’d given me was beautiful, and no doubt delicious.
“How would you feel about being a taste tester for a few new things?” She got a sad look in her eyes for a long moment before she said, “I don’t have any family.”
Afterpromising my new bakery friend I’d taste anything she baked , I headed down to the police station, and walked inside.
TheDPD was freakin’ massive.
Ihad absolutely no idea where to go once I was inside.
Headingup to the glass panels that separated the public from the actual station, I smiled at the woman behind the glass and said, “Hi, I’m here to see my, uh, boyfriend. DetectiveCarter.”
“Quincy, Quinn, Quaid, Auden, Atlas, Gable, Garrett, Germaine, or Garnett?” The woman asked dully.
Well, since Germaine and Garnett were married…
“Uh, Quincy.” I smiled. “Is he here?”
Iknew he was here.
Histruck was outside. I’d seen it from the road.
“I’ll take her back,” a male voice said.
Ilooked to see the patriarch of the family standing behind me, looking all official and shit.
Dressedin a pair of black slacks, with a white long-sleeved button-down shirt tucked into his pants, he looked every bit the assistant chief.
Hehad a badge and a gun at his side, and he was carrying what looked like a box of food.
“What’s all that?” I asked curiously.
“That’s lunch for my children who never seem to grow up.” Germaine rolled his eyes. Then in a higher pitched voice he said, “Dad, since you’re leaving, can you bring back food for us? We’re all hungry.”
Ilaughed at his impersonation.
“I mean, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you did raise them to be that way.” I paused. “But if it’s any consolation, Quincy makes sure I’m always fed. That’s why I’m here…” I held up the box. “Didn’t want him to starve.”
Lies.
Iwanted to see if what Kinny said was true.
Hepunched in the code for the door and said, “Just come through right here if you ever need back.”
Iraised a brow at him. “I could’ve easily hidden that number from you. But you saw it.”
Ihad.
“This hallway runs the length of the station. Jail cells are on this wall right here.” He indicated to the left. “You have to walk all the way around to get to the back to where all the detective desks are. My office and a few other higher ups are back here, too. That’s why I took you this way instead of through the actual bullpen.”
Ifollowed in his wake, groaning when the smell of the food he was carrying hit my nose. “What is in that?”
“Tacos from that taco truck down the road.” He paused. “There’s plenty for you to eat. Go get them for me? My office is right here.”
Heshowed me his office, which had enough seating for what was likely his entire family group, then pointed toward where I could see a slew of desks with some men standing in a huddle around one desk in particular.
Icouldn’t see him, but I had a feeling that was Quincy’s desk.
“Sure,” I said, following him into his office to drop off the cookies in my hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” he rumbled as he started pulling food out of the box.
Nervously, I walked through the maze of desks, smiling shyly at the few men who were sitting at them.
Imentally cursed myself because if I’d intended to come down here, I would’ve dressed differently.
Ididn’t want to embarrass him with what I was wearing, which admittedly wasn’t much.
I’dintended to work on my car, which meant that I had to wear my dark clothes that hid the dirt and grease as much as possible. I was in a black tank top with my oldest bra—a bright pink racerback sports bra—underneath. I had a pair of cutoff black jean shorts, and a black pair of Converse on my feet that I’d had since I was sixteen.
Andmy hair? That was piled on the top of my head in the messiest bun I’d ever accomplished.
Iwas, quite literally, a hot mess.
AsI walked a tendril of my hair fell out of my bun and brushed the back of my neck. I’d just reached up to try to tuck it back into place when I reached the group of men who were huddled around the desk, talking about whatever case they were working on.
Noneof them were Quincy’s brothers, so I stayed back several feet and said, “Quincy?”
Icouldn’t see anything but his shoulder and jaw, but at the sound of my voice, he leaned over so he could see between two men.
Andthe grin that split his face.
Oh, man.
I’dremember that grin for the rest of my life.
“Hollis.” He stood up from his desk, dropped the pen he had in his hand, and skirted the men who were now openly staring at me to come my way.
Themoment he was in reach, his arms went around me, then I was off my feet.
Hismouth was on mine moments later, and I groaned.
Jeez, this man was potent.
Justa kiss and the press of his body against mine, and I was ready to openly have sex with him in a room full of police officers.
Hepulled back so he could stare into my eyes, then said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Theworry that maybe he wasn’t feeling the same way as I was completely dissipated in that moment.
“I brought cookies, and met your dad at the door, and he said to gather your brothers and head to his office,” I said, my hands moving up to play in his hair at his nape.
Heclosed his eyes and leaned into my touch for a few long seconds, allowing me to study his tired face.
“You need a nap,” I mused.
“I need people to stop murdering people and then maybe a full night’s sleep,” he muttered tiredly.
Thenhe started walking toward the door of his father’s office without putting me down.
“I need to find your brothers,” I said as I started to laugh.
Hepaused, then turned so that he could look behind him.
“Hey, Greg? Will you go find one of my brothers and send him this way?” Quincy called out.
“Sure,” obviously Greg answered. “I think I saw one of them in the break room.”
“Put her down and let her come eat,” his dad said the moment we breached the office. “And stop all the public display of affection, or I’m going to have to watch everyone do it.”
Quincyallowed me to slip down the length of his body, his eyes looking down into mine, before he said, “No can do, Dad. I haven’t seen her for a couple of hours, and I missed her.”
Myheart.
Itwas bursting.
“Well, then at least try to keep your hands off her ass in the middle of the station,” he said.
“Yeah, that’s a hard no for me, too.” Quincy winked. “Let’s eat.”
Itwas as he was walking me out an hour later, so full of tacos and cookies that I had to unbutton my jean shorts, that I found the courage to tell him about my insecurities, and then Kinny’s bet.
Hecurled a strand of hair behind my ear as I talked, then smiled at me softly.
“You and I are the real deal, darlin’,” he admitted. “The feelings I have for you aren’t something I’ve ever experienced before, and I have a feeling it’s more apt to be the love of a lifetime my dad has with my mom, than a short romance that’ll fizzle out after a couple of months.”
Isucked in a deep breath, then said, “I think I’m in love with you, QuincyCarter.”
Hiseyes twinkled as he twisted us, pressing my back to the wall of the police station, and said, “That’s good, HollisAue. BecauseI’m drowning in my feelings for you.”