CHAPTER 31
Quinn
Iswivel on the barstool in the unfinished extension at Avellana, studying the tile samples spread across the counter.
At least, that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past thirty minutes.
Every time I look down, my gaze drifts across the bar to where Cole is measuring something, pencil tucked behind his ear, forearms flexing as he moves.
I need to get a grip on whatever this is. It’s not like he’s shirtless in my kitchen; he’s here, in his own bar, doing man things, and somehow my heart still insists on doing that thing.
I glance back at the samples spread across the bench, then up at Cole. Damn that dimple, it’s making an appearance again. Okay, eyes back on the samples, Quinn. You can do this.
I rearrange the tiles to look productive, pushing away the daydream threatening to take over.
Cole looks up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his gaze catching mine for a beat too long. “How’s it going over here?”
“Oh, um, good.” I lift a sample, pretending to be focused even as his proximity sends a current up my arm. “Thinking this one for the backsplash.”
“I still don’t know how you can tell the difference,” he says, leaning beside me, the edge of his arm brushing mine. “They all look the same.”
“That’s why we had the grout incident last week,” I tease. “I said onyx, not midnight.”
He grins, walking back over to the other side of the bar. “Hey, the spare bathroom still looks great. You did a good job.”
I smile despite myself. “How’s it going on your end?”
“Just sending the measurements to the supplier.” He scrolls through his phone.
I blink. “But I already did that.”
“You sent a picture of the tape measure and your thumb.” He laughs, shaking his head.
“Yeah, and?”
Before he can respond, a knock sounds. We both glance up as Sophie breezes in, tray of muffins in hand. “Don’t tell me this is foreplay,” she whispers in my ear.
“Soph!” I hiss. “Shh.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see your swatch book is upside down.”
I glance down, and she’s right.
Cole looks up from his phone, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Hey, Sophie. Come to steal Quinn?”
“You bet I am,” she says brightly. “I’m taking her out to lunch.”
He chuckles. “No rush getting back, just make sure she eats.”
“Oh, I will. I know what she’s like when she’s hangry.”
“Um, you two?” I cross my arms, but I’m smiling. “Still standing right here.”
They share a grin, and my chest warms. It’s easy, the three of us like this, and I’m so glad Sophie showed up. I’ve been dying to tell her about the date.
I keep telling myself it’s just dinner. Two people who get along. Not some romantic, life-altering moment I’ll replay later.
“Okay, babe,” she says, looping her arm through mine and hiking her bag higher on her shoulder. “You ready to go?”
“Yep, I’m starving.”
She glances at Cole. “You want to come with?”
He shakes his head, pencil still moving over the notebook. “Can’t. Need to finish measuring for the shelving.”
“I’ll bring you back something,” I say, slinging my tote over my shoulder.
He looks up, eyes warm. “That’d be great. Thanks, Quinn.”
Sophie squeezes my arm. “All right, love you and leave you.”
We step out into the warm summer sun, the door swinging shut behind us. The city hums as we make our way to one of Sophie’s favourite Vietnamese spots, a tiny hole-in-the-wall with sticky tables and the best pho I’ve ever had.
We’ve barely dropped onto the wobbly chairs, half in the alley and half in the sun, when it bursts out of me. “I’m going on a date with Cole.”
Sophie freezes mid-sip, eyes wide. “Oh my God. Tell me everything.”
“He asked me at breakfast on Saturday morning,” I say, grinning even though my stomach’s doing somersaults. “I’ve been dying to tell you.”
“This is huge, Q! Where’s he taking you?”
“I don’t know, he said it’s a surprise. I’m excited and terrified. I barely survived that date with Fox.”
Sophie laughs, leaning back. “At least he was hot though, right?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”
She grins. “Okay, okay. We’ll plan. But first, food. I’m ordering.”
She heads inside, leaving me alone with my spiralling thoughts. How am I supposed to spend an evening with Cole without saying something awkward or staring at his mouth too long?
By the time she comes back balancing two steaming bowls of pho, I’m no closer to an answer. The broth smells like cloves and lime, the noodles gleam in the sun. She slides one bowl toward me. “All right, outfit first. What are you wearing?”
“He said ‘dress casual.’ So… this?” I gesture to my white tee and paint-stained jeans.
She squints. “Absolutely not. You’re coming over tonight and borrowing something of mine. That white summer dress I wore last week, the one I sent you a picture of.”
“It was cute,” I admit, picking at my cuticle. “But how do I not make it weird?”
“You won’t. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, he’ll be just as nervous.”
I sigh, stirring the noodles. “Maybe. Not that it matters. Did I tell you he’s leaving next month?”
Sophie’s smile fades. “Wait, what? Where’s he going?”
“He’s planning a year-long trip around the world.” The words taste heavier than they should. “I don’t know why it’s hit me like this, but the thought of him not being in Brisbane anymore makes my chest hurt.”
“Oh, babe…” Her voice softens. “Why don’t you go with him? You’ve always wanted to see Paris.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He hasn’t asked, and it’s not like I can drop everything.”
Sophie meets my eyes, unwavering. “If he asks, promise you’ll think about it?”
“I can’t,” I whisper. “Let’s stop talking about it.”
Because Cole is leaving. A year overseas. A whole other life waiting for him after this renovation wraps. That should make things simple. No pressure, no promises.
She nods, letting it go. The noise of the alley rushes back in, the clatter of dishes, the sizzle of woks, the hum of traffic, and for a minute I can almost convince myself the date will be fine, that I won’t get swept up or fall for him. That I’ll keep it casual, keep my guard up, and be okay.
When Sophie starts rambling about her latest client, I nod and smile, but my mind’s a mess of what-ifs and maybe-nots. What if he’s just being nice? What if he really likes me? What if I read it all wrong? What if I’ll never be ready?