Chapter 3
3
RACHEL
L ooking at pictures was a great excuse to sit closer to Quinn. I’d thought about that when I asked him to go get his laptop. Asked? More like ordered, but he’d done it.
The truth was, though, that I really wanted to see his pictures. I wanted to know everything about him. Joely had given me the scoop on his name and that he was single, but there was so much more to learn. The fact that he’d spent time on base, and even gone through at least one deployment, fascinated me.
This guy had lived. He’d traveled, met people, experienced things… That was what I wanted.
Quinn settled in next to me on the sofa and I leaned closer. I made a point of keeping a little space between us, though. I didn’t want him to think I was pushing myself on him. Did guys think like that? I really didn’t know.
“What other pictures do you have on here?” I asked a full twenty minutes later when he started to close the laptop.
Yeah, I had an ulterior motive for that too. If he closed the laptop, he’d move away from me and we’d be separated by a couch cushion again. I didn’t want to be separated.
He frowned but continued looking at the laptop screen. Then he pulled it back to the center of his lap and tapped around on the trackpad.
Within a few minutes, he’d opened a folder and began pulling up random pictures. He took me through a few photos of him as a kid—plump and happy as he opened presents on Christmas, hugged his dog, and posed with some friends on a baseball field.
Then he pulled up his prom pictures. His arms were around a very beautiful girl—the type of girl I envied in high school. Long, blonde hair that I was guessing always looked perfect. Size-two body. Small but perky chest that would make it easy to wear all the stylish junior clothing I could never fit into because of my overly abundant curves.
“Was that your girlfriend?” I asked.
He laughed. “No. I mean, I guess you could say we went on one date if prom night counts as a date, but she wasn’t my type.”
“What’s your type?”
He stared at the screen a long time, probably trying to figure out what about his prom date made her not quite the perfect girlfriend. Then he looked over at me. Was he thinking about how I was different from her? Maybe I was closer to his type?
No, I couldn’t get my hopes up about that.
“How tall are you?” he asked.
“Five foot four.”
He gave a nod. “Someone who’s five foot four. Long, dark, slightly wavy hair. Big brown eyes. Smart while still being laid back and fun. That’s my perfect woman.”
He was describing me. I knew that not only because my physical appearance matched, but because of the way he was looking at me as he said the words.
“What about you?” he asked.
He was asking what my idea of the perfect guy was. I didn’t want to copy him and describe him exactly, so I decided to be honest.
“I never really knew until now,” I said. “I mean, I kind of pictured a tall, dark, and handsome guy. That’s the stereotype, right?”
He definitely met all three of those. But would he see himself as tall, dark, and handsome? I had no idea.
“I’m always the one most guys pass over,” I said. “They just don’t really look at me. Maybe it’s because I don’t wear a lot of makeup or dress to show off my figure.”
“You don’t have to. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
This man knew how to charm a woman. Normally, it would worry me. I’d feel like he was just saying whatever it took to get me into bed. I didn’t get that feeling from him, though. I trusted him. I couldn’t explain it. It was like the safety I’d felt last night, when he pulled back the covers and I hadn’t even gotten a look at his face. Not only would he never harm me, but he would keep me safe from harm from others.
“You were the first man to see me naked,” I blurted before I could talk myself out of it. “Last night. I guess you didn’t really get a good look at me. It was pretty dark in there?—”
“I got a good look at you,” he interrupted. “But that’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible?”
“That you’ve gone all this time and never been with a man.”
Now I was confused. “Why isn’t it possible?”
“A beautiful woman like you? None of this makes sense. You said guys don’t even notice you. You couldn’t walk into any public building in this town without getting attention. Maybe guys in Tennessee are idiots.”
Or maybe I was selling myself short. I’d been an insecure teenager, never feeling quite beautiful enough. I naturally blended into the background. But I didn’t really look to see if I was getting that kind of attention when I walked around. I kept my focus on work and my friends and whatever was going on in my life.
“I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day, and I didn’t even know your name until I asked someone.”
I reached up and closed the laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of us. Then I returned to my position but facing him slightly, making it easier for him to kiss me.
“What are you going to do about it?” I asked.
I held my breath in the seconds that followed, not sure which direction this would go, but somehow knowing my life was about to change forever.