“You got lucky. It could have been a lot worse.”
Rolling my eyes indignantly at his tone of voice, a tone my own father had used on me many times, the embarrassment of my situation started to wear off, and I started to get pissed. “You know, the term self-cleaning oven is really misleading,” I stated in an effort to defend myself. “Calling something self-cleaning when you’re actually supposed to clean it first is just asking for trouble! I have half a mind to write a nasty letter to Maytag and express my displeasure. Oh! And while we’re on the subject—”
“We’re on a subject? I thought you were just ranting.”
I ignored Quinn’s dig and carried on, because yes, I was ranting. And once I started there was no stopping it. “What’s the deal with dishwashers, huh? Dish. Washer. You’d think that would mean it cleans your dishes, right? But noooo. You actually have to scrub all food particles off first or they come out with dried-up crud on them. I’m better off just hiring a person to clean my oven and dishes since the thousand dollar machines meant to clean stuff don’t actually clean!”
I may have been a little out of breath by the time I finished, and I may have garnered an audience from the other firefighters standing in the alley, but the only thing I could focus on at that very moment was the fact that Quinn was watching me, his arms crossed over his chest, with a tiny smirk playing on his lips.
“You finished?” he asked a few seconds later.
I looked up at the dark sky and gave it some thought. “Yes. Since washing machines and dryers actually do what they claim to do, I think I’m finished.”
And then he went and shocked the hell out of me by throwing his head back with a loud bark of laughter.
“Holy shit,” I breathed out, watching the magnificence that was Quinn laughing. The man was hot as sin on any given day, but add in a laugh and panties all over Pembrooke were at risk of combusting.
“What?” he asked once he was finished, a smile still tilting his full lips upward. It was a great smile, even if it didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“You just laughed.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I tend to do that when something’s funny or totally ridiculous.”
“I don’t think I want to know which one of those I am,” I cringed.
That smile of his inched a bit closer to his eyes. “You’re funny.”
“Oh,” I drew out sarcastically. “You see, I was confused, because earlier today I thought you were a robot. You know, devoid of all facial expressions other than complete disinterest?” I crossed my own arms over my chest, mimicking his stance. “I’m sure you could understand my confusion.”
He at least had the decency to look ashamed as he rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, I wasn’t really at my best earlier. I’m sorry about that.”
At least he apologized, I thought to myself. “Well, you’re forgiven… if you promise me that you’ll keep tonight’s little…” I waved my hand in the direction of my smoky apartment, “…accident from Eliza. I swear to God, that woman lives to tell me I told you so.”
Quinn chuckled again, and the sound of it sent a zing of pleasure through me. “Scout’s honor,” he returned, holding up three fingers.
“Thanks.” I smiled and reached a hand out in front of me for him to shake. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot earlier. I know we’ve technically known each other for a couple years now, but we haven’t actually talked. I’m Lilly Mathewson. It’s nice to officially meet you… in spite of the circumstances.”
“Quinn Mallick.” His large hand engulfed mine, sending a shot of warmth up my arm. Oh, this man was potent. “Nice to meet you as well.”
We both went silent as we stared at each other, hands still clasped together in a slow shake. My heart kicked up at what I could have sworn was a moment between us, but before I could be sure a loud voice called out, breaking through whatever was happening. “Yo, Mallick!” We both turned to see that the rest of the crew was loaded up. “We gotta go, man.”
“Coming.” Quinn turned back to me and gave me that chin lift that only guys were capable of pulling off. “You should be good to go back inside, just open up the windows.” He said it so casually that I suddenly got the sense that the fizzle I’d just felt between us was all in my head. “Be safe, Lilly.”
“Yeah… you too.”
“And maybe no more cooking for… well, forever,” he called over his shoulder as he reached the fire engine, shooting me a wink before he climbed in and shut the door.
Yep. Definitely potent.
5
Quinn
“Morning,” I announced as I pushed through the back door of my parents’ house. The welcoming smell of coffee a pleasant hit to my senses. They sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast as I beelined for the coffee machine. I stopped to pat my dad’s shoulder and give Mom a kiss on the cheek, but if I didn’t get some caffeine in my system soon, I was going to pass out where I stood.
“Long night?” Dad asked, as I took my first fortifying sip.
I gave him a bland look that was all the answer he needed. “Nothing too serious, but enough to keep us from getting any sleep.”
Mom stood up and patted my cheek. “My poor boy. Why don’t you let me make you something to eat really quick?” I was just about to tell her it wasn’t necessary as she started fussing around, but before I could get the words out, my stomach let loose a loud rumble.
“Sophia awake yet?” I asked, as I finished off my coffee and poured myself another.
“Yep,” Mom answered. “She’s getting a shower.”
That gave me about ten minutes to caffeinated and get some food in my belly before I had to take her to school. “How was she? She behave all right?”
“Perfect little angel,” Dad replied with a smile on his face. As far as my father was concerned, Sophia could burn the house to the ground and she’d still be perfect in his eyes. She had her Papaw wrapped around her little finger. She could do no wrong. It was hilarious to see Bill Mallick, the man who’d been known as a powerhouse within the Pembrooke Fire Department, brought to heel by a tiny slip of a girl, but my father wouldn’t have it any other way.
Knowing that about him, I turned to my mother for an honest answer. She gave me a knowing grin. “She was fine, dear.” She set two slices of French toast and a side of bacon in front of me and took her seat once again. “But she woke up in the middle of the night again.” Here we go, I thought, knowing exactly what was coming. “Sweetheart. You really need to stop letting her get into bed with you.” I gave her a look that screamed I don’t want to hear it.
“Eve,” my father spoke in a warning tone, but my mother wouldn’t be deterred.
“What?” she shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying, a child her age should be sleeping in her own bed through the night. There’s no reason for her to—”
I dropped my fork against the plate, causing a loud clang that startled my mother into stopping. Frustration began to course through me at the familiar, and unwanted, conversation. I knew she meant well, my mother didn’t have a cruel or vindictive bone in her body, but well-meaning or not, I was getting tired of being told how to parent my own daughter.
It was times like these that made me miss Addy even more. The constant ache that lingered in every bone grew more acute. She always knew what to do when it came to being a parent. In the three years she had with Sophia, never once did I see her doubt herself, or question her parenting methods. She was so strong, so self-assured. Christ, I missed her. Living without her was like missing a limb. And days like this one, days that seemed to call out my inadequacies as a parent, only made me angrier at life for what it had taken away from me.
“She’s six years old,” I snapped. “She’s lost her mother and has nightmares that wake her up in the middle of the night. I really don’t give a shit what a child her age should or shouldn’t be doing. If it helps her to climb in bed with me, then everyone else can just fuck right the hell
off.”
“Quinn!” Mom shot back at the same time my father turned that warning tone on me. “Watch how you speak to your mother, son.”
I propped my elbows on the table and dropped my head in my hands, giving my face a good scrub before looking back at my mother. Guilt at having taken my anger out on her rested heavy on me when I saw the disappointment in their eyes. “I’m sorry,” I sighed, reaching over to place my hand on top of hers.
She turned her palm over and wrapped her fingers around mine. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
That was just one of the many thing I loved about my parents, one of the many things that made the decision to move Sophia back to Pembrooke so easy. They were two of the most forgiving people I’d ever met.
“So,” she released my hand and went back to her coffee mug, “Soph tells us that you signed her up for ballet classes?”
I shoveled the last bit of breakfast in my mouth and chased it with a gulp of coffee as I nodded my head, all the while thinking that I’d be seeing Lilly again. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, mainly because a part of me — too large a part — was excited about the thought of it.
Just remembering back to the look on her face that day at the dance school made my chest tighten painfully. I’d acted like such an asshole, and I hated that I put that look on her face. My head was so twisted when it came to Lilly, because I knew I should have just taken that as my opportunity to keep my distance, but when we’d been called to her apartment later that night, I couldn’t help but laugh when she’d rambled on about self-cleaning ovens and dishwashers. I knew I was walking a fine line, but the way she had smiled when I laughed made it impossible to act like a dick.
“Yep, last week,” I answered casually, pushing the way my stomach flipped at just the thought of her to the back of my mind. “First class is this afternoon.”
“That Lilly Mathewson,” she continues in a conversational tone, “she’s quite pretty, isn’t she?”
“Ah, hell,” I groaned. “Mom, come on.”
“I’m just saying—” Oh, I knew damn good and well what she was just saying. Luckily, Sophia chose that moment to come barreling into the kitchen.
“Daddy!”
“Hey there, Angel!” I stood and scooped her up, pulling her tight against my chest. I might not be getting the Father of the Year award any time soon, and I may question whether my choices are right, but there was no doubt my little girl loved me, and when she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed so tightly, I got the sense that I was at least doing something right.
“You wash behind your ears?” I asked, as I lowered her back down to the ground.
“Yep.”
“You use actual soap?” Who knew those were questions I’d be asking one day?
“Uh huh.”
“You brush your teeth?” And by the dejected look that spread across her face, I knew she hadn’t. “Go brush. Then it’s breakfast and school.
She stomped her little foot. “But I just brushed ‘em yesterday!”
“Oh my God, miracles really do happen!” I declared to the ceiling before looking back at my daughter. “Then we’re going for a new record and make it two days in a row.”
Dad laughed. Mom covered her mouth to hide her smile. Sophia glared at me like she was trying to melt the skin off my face, but she turned and headed back up the stairs, so I’d take that as a win for the morning.
It was probably the only one I’d get.
* * *
“Daddy, I don’t think my hair is right.”
We stood inside the studio door, hand in hand, watching all the other little girls with their hair in perfect little buns on the top of their heads. Yeah, it was safe to say Sophia’s didn’t look right, seeing as I had no fucking clue how to do a bun.
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. It’s just…” I trailed off and looked at the knotted mass of tangles that sat slightly cock-eyed on her head, “…slightly different is all.”
I could see sympathetic looks from the moms that were still milling about and wondered if ‘How to Make a Proper Bun’ was something I could find on Google.
“Hey guys.” Lilly’s cheerful voice cut through my musings, and I turned just in time to see her closing the distance between us. She was wearing another one of those outfits that damn near bordered on indecent, and I had to fight my body’s reaction to seeing it.
“Hi, Ms. Lilly!” Sophia shouted. “Look it! Daddy and me went to the store and bought a whole bunch of ballet clothes.” She pointed down at the bright pink leotard she was wearing that declared her a DIVA in fuchsia rhinestones. She didn’t have the first clue what a diva was, but the thing was pink on pink so she just had to have it… along with about a million others that looked just like it. I swear to God, I could feel by balls retreating back up into my stomach when the cashier was ringing up all the pepto-colored spandex.
“Do you like it?”
She bent down to Sophia’s level, the smile on her face like a punch to the chest. “I love it! You look like a professional ballerina!”
I hadn’t thought it was possible for Soph to beam any prouder than she had when we first purchased the ugly leotard, but I was wrong. Her face glowed like she’d just gotten the world’s best compliment. And to Lilly’s credit, she didn’t say a damn word about that disaster of a bun on top of my daughter’s head.
“We’re about to get started, so why don’t you go join the rest of the class?”
“Okay!” Sophia took off without a backward glance, leaving me alone with the woman I’d been struggling to get out of my head.
“Thanks for not saying anything about the…” I trailed off and pointed to my head, causing Lilly to laugh.
“Hey, I’ve seen worse, I promise.”
I rubbed at the back of my neck, my skin tingled with awareness at her close proximity. Jesus, I really was a fucking mess. “Yeah, well, I never was much of a stylist.”
She placed her hand on my arm and sparks lit beneath her palm. “Hey, the fact that you even tried speaks volumes. Most dads wouldn’t have even bothered.”
Christ, her compliment was exactly what I needed to hear. I’d been questioning whether or not I was doing right by my daughter for so long, that hearing another person validate my efforts was a shot right to the gut. There was no question about it. I needed to get the hell out of there. The guilt inside of me was quickly snuffing out the excitement I felt at Lilly’s declaration.
I pulled my keys from my front pocket and began to move back. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get to it.”
Her brows pinched in confusion at my retreating demeanor. “Yeah. We’ll see you after class.”
“Yep.” I turned on my heels and headed for the door without looking back.
6
Lilly
“Hello?” I called out as I walked through my parents’ front door. No one greeted me, but I could hear soft music and the sound of hushed voices coming from the living room at back of the house.
I walked on quiet feet down the hallway and stopped just in the doorway of the living room. The sight before me made me smile happily in spite of the painfully bittersweet feeling tying my insides in knots. It was absolutely beautiful and heartbreakingly sad all at the same time, and I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes as I watched my father hold my mom in his arms as he led her around, dancing to the crooning voice of Eric Clapton.
“Wonderful Tonight” had been one of my mother’s favorite songs for as long as I could remember, and watching the two of them dance in a tight embrace transported me right back to my childhood. I could remember how seeing them, so in love, so enamored with each other, used to embarrass me when I was much younger. Now, well, I’d have given anything to make sure my parents had years more of this.
My own tears finally spilled over onto my cheeks when I saw my mother’s eyes well up as Dad sang softly into her ear, and I thought to myself, God, to be so lucky as to have a love like theirs. And for some re
ason, the image of Quinn popped into my head at that very moment. I wasn’t naive enough to think I might possibly love the guy. I barely knew him. And his mercurial personality made it to where I wanted to sometimes punch him in the face, but I couldn’t deny feeling a pull between us. There was something there… like a shared pain that made me feel closer to him than anyone else I knew. It was strange, really, but I just couldn’t get the guy out of my head.
“Oh, sweetheart! We didn’t hear you come in.” The sound of my mom’s voice pulled me back into the present, and I moved quickly to dash the tears off my cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Mom stepped back and ran her hands down her cream-colored pants to straighten them. “Nonsense.” She gazed at her watch before moving toward the kitchen. “Actually, I need to finish dinner. Thank goodness you showed up when you did or I would have overcooked the roast.” She bolted from the room, and I understood not to follow. She needed a few minutes alone to compose herself. My father’s illness was even harder on her than it was on me.
“You mind dancing with your old man, Lilly Flower?”
I beamed at my father and pushed off the doorway, stepping into his loving, familiar embrace. “Not at all.” Up close, I could tell he wasn’t feeling as well as he pretended. It had only been weeks since he told me he was dying, and already his body was starting to show signs. He was thinner than he’d been, almost frail. His complexion was sallow, dark purple smudges rested beneath his eyes. But he still smiled just like he always had.
“How are you feeling, Dad?”
He moved me around the room with such grace. “Couldn’t be better, sweetie. But right now I have the two most beautiful women in the world under one roof. What more could a man ask for?”
We grew quiet, and I rested my head on my father’s chest as we danced to Clapton’s “Change the World.”
Welcome to Pembrooke: the complete Pembrooke series Page 44
