Perhaps the biggest surprise, though, was that he’d started praying—some version of praying, anyway. It wasn’t pretty or poetic, but it was honest, and he had to believe it was enough.
He didn’t sense a huge change, not yet anyway. But he wasn’t playing the short game here, and he wasn’t giving up.
The Winter Carnival drew a good-size crowd, considering that Harbor Pointe wasn’t a big town. He carried his mask, shocked to see there wasn’t a single face that wasn’t covered.
“You better put that on,” Ryan Brooks said, coming up beside him. “If they see you without one, I think you get sentenced to two more weeks of community service.”
Grady laughed. “Don’t act like that’s so crazy around here.” He stuck the mask on his face.
“Good to see you, man. Your big race is coming up. Feeling good?”
“Feeling ready,” Grady said, though even thinking about it kicked up the nerves in his belly. “Well, I will be ready.”
“I’m inviting the whole town out to watch it in the clubhouse. We can’t all fly to Colorado, but we can cheer you on from here.” Ryan clapped a hand on Grady’s shoulder, and he was thankful for the mask covering his eyes. He’d never had a cheering squad, at least not one made up of people he knew.
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
A dark-headed woman came up behind Ryan and wrapped her arms around him. “You owe me a dance, Brooks.”
“Okay, but hurry up before my fiancée sees me.”
“Funny.” She swatted him on the shoulder. “Hey, Grady.”
“Hey, Lane.”
“We’ll catch up with you later,” Ryan said, letting Lane pull him onto the dance floor.
Grady watched them, something like envy rising up inside. He didn’t often envy other people, but Ryan and Lane had something special—it was obvious. He hoped one day he’d have something worth holding on to.
He wandered through the pavilion, captivated by the beauty of the white lights, the ice sculptures, and yes, the flowers. Quinn had cast the vision, and it had turned out perfectly.
He listened to the chatter as people marveled at her artistry. If only he could find her to congratulate her himself.
As he wound his way through the crowd, he maneuvered around the tall, circular tables evenly spaced throughout. Servers zigzagged through the maze carrying trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
He stopped near one of the tall tables and turned a quick circle, hoping to spot Quinn, but in the sea of black tuxes and formal dresses, he came up empty.
“It’s quite beautiful, don’t you think?” A regal-looking woman stood at the nearest tall table, a program of the night’s events splayed in front of her with a few other papers.
He nodded. “It really is.”
“Were you involved with—” she waved her hand in the air—“all this?”
“Sort of.”
“What’s your favorite part?”
Grady reminded himself that people in Harbor Pointe weren’t the same kind of nosy as the people he usually encountered. These people actually cared about more than tabloids and headlines.
“The flowers, hands down,” he said, still admiring the scene in front of him. White lights had been hung from the rafters of the pavilion, casting light like diamonds on the dance floor. And while the snow statues scattered throughout the space had all been decorated with sprays of Quinn’s flowers, it was the display on the stage that was truly magical. One of the sculptors had created the likeness of a little girl peeking behind a giant, ornate door, which revealed the display Quinn had intended to enter in the contest that had been so important to her.
“What do you like about them?” the woman asked, moving closer to him. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
He glanced down at the papers on the table in front of her and eyed the words Floral Expo Best Design at the top of one of them. It looked like an entry form. “May I ask why you’re so interested?”
The woman smiled from behind her mask. There was something familiar about that smile. It reminded him of . . .
“I believe art, whether it’s floral design or a painting or something else entirely, should make a person feel something. It’s interesting to hear what other people feel, is all.” She folded her program over the other papers and tucked them in her purse.
“It makes me feel—” he looked around—“free, I guess. Like here, none of my mistakes matter. There’s just this peaceful existence where I can be who I am.”
The woman at his side shifted. “You’re the one who called.”
He pushed the mask onto the top of his head. “And you’re Quinn’s mother.”
The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a photo identical to the one Quinn had framed on the wall of the flower shop. In it, two laughing girls, dancing alongside a young woman, as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Grady said.
“But you called anyway,” Jacie said.
“I felt like it was my fault Quinn was disqualified. It was really important to her. And look around—she’s crazy talented.”
The woman’s smile came and went so quickly he almost missed it. “She is.”
“And she’s really special.”
Her head tilted as she studied him. “You’re in love with her.”
He looked away, still drinking in the beauty of what Quinn had created. The beauty of her soul, which she’d poured out into every bit of this design. Love? He’d never been in love with anybody—not really. But was that what this was?
He turned back. “I don’t know why you left, but I know it would mean a lot to her if she could see you.”
Jacie shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”
Grady frowned. “But you came all this way.”
“Against my better judgment, yes. But don’t misunderstand, Mr. Benson. I’m here in a professional capacity only.”
“Is that why you brought that photograph?”
She tucked the picture back inside her purse. “It’s been too long. Too many years—too many mistakes and missed opportunities.”
“Too many to be forgiven?”
His own words stunned him for a split second. Were his mistakes too many to be forgiven? He’d always felt they were, but what if—just what if—he was wrong? Seeing Jacie standing there, he was sure the mistakes of her past could be redeemed somehow. Why didn’t he believe the same thing about himself?
“Those girls are better off without me,” she said.
“But are you better off without them?”
She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. “The design is beautiful. I’m glad I got to see it. Thank you for reaching out.”
“Mrs. Whitman, wait.” His hand on her arm stopped her from leaving. “You can’t come in here and not even see her. She’ll be devastated if she finds out.”
“Mr. Benson, I have a new family now. They’re my priority.”
“But what about Quinn? What about Carly? Did you know you have a grandson?”
The woman stiffened, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “This was a mistake. I have to go.” She pulled her arm away and started for the door moments before Quinn walked up beside him.
“I knew you’d never find me,” she said. “I swear you looked at me twice and didn’t even know it was me.”
“Wow,” Grady said, admiring the way the deep-teal dress fit her curves. “You look amazing.” Her honey-colored hair was mostly pulled up, a few purposeful curls decorating her face on either side.
She smiled. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself. I was saving you that dance.”
He drank her in for a long moment, this beautiful woman with so much buried pain. Would telling her about her mother only make that pain worse?
He slipped his hand into Quinn’s and led her to the dance floor, pulling her close as they swayed to the music.
Near the exit, he spotted the regal woman in the red dress watching,
mask at her side. Eyes fixed on the two of them, Jacie stared longingly, the way a person looks when her mistakes become so immense they’re unable to be tamed.
He should go to her, force her to come back and at least give Quinn the closure she so desperately wanted.
But as he held her gaze, the older woman crumpled, covered her face again, and turned away.
And then she was gone.
CHAPTER
31
QUINN STOOD UNDER THE SPOTLIGHTS, trying not to overthink the scenario playing out around her. She tried to tell herself it was just the twinkling lights and not the way he looked in that tuxedo. It was the dreamy, magical snow garden she’d created and not the way he’d sat by her nephew’s side every day since they returned from up north. It was the fact that they were standing in a sea of couples and certainly not the way his hands rested on the small of her back, as if he were protecting her from things she didn’t even know existed.
She drew in a deep breath as he pulled her closer.
Could she give herself one minute without the barrage of internal questions?
“You did an amazing job,” he whispered. “Everything is beautiful.”
She relaxed into him ever so slightly. “You know, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, but I have you to thank for it.”
He inched back so he could see her face, not hiding the incredulous look on his own. “Is that right?”
She pulled her gaze from his. “When you first got here I was so blocked. I had no idea what I was going to do for this design, and it was important. My first time doing this without Mimi. My first time entering the Expo design contest. My only shot at reconnecting with my mother. And it’s not in my nature to relax—”
“I never would’ve guessed that about you.”
She smiled at his interruption. “I was pretty worked up.”
“I remember.”
“Do you remember what you said to me?”
“Something profound, I’m sure.”
“You said when you think of a secret garden, you think of something wild and untamed.”
“I said that?”
She met his eyes and nodded. “It was a simple thing, really, but it shook something loose in the right side of my brain. I could hardly keep up with the ideas. I sketched and colored and looked up flowers I’d only ever heard of, and this—” her arm whirled around them—“is the end result.”
His grin turned lazy. “So, you could say I’m your muse.”
“Well, you could say that, but I’m not going to.” She laughed. “In a lot of ways it doesn’t even matter that my mother will never see it or that I’ll never win that competition. It’s worth it just to know I can do it.”
“Quinn—”
“And it’s amazing that something wild and untamed could be so beautiful.” That’s what he was, wasn’t he? Wild and untamed. And yet there was something so beautiful about him, even beyond his charming smile.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about flowers anymore?” He stopped swaying, the music still swirling overhead.
“Because I’m not. I don’t take risks, Grady.” She forced herself not to look away, even though she felt naked and vulnerable. “Letting you in is a huge risk for someone like me.”
“I know.” He smoothed her hair away from her face, eyes still locked on hers.
“And nothing about it makes sense. You’re leaving. I have a business here. You’re practically famous and I’m completely unknown. You can ski and I, well, can’t. How will we navigate all of that?”
He smiled—that sweet, lopsided smile she’d grown to crave. “Maybe we can figure it out as we go. It’s like jumping off the dock into the lake—you don’t really know what’s out there, but you deal with it as it comes.”
“I’m not so great at the ‘deal with it as it comes’ part.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got me, then. That’s what I live for.” He took her face in his hands and spent several moments studying her. “I don’t want to mess this up, Quinn.” His gaze was so earnest, so genuine, she was sure she would get lost in it.
When his lips found hers, the rest of the world seemed to drift away like a sweet-smelling, magical dream. A dream in which she could let herself get carried off without ever once speculating on all the reasons it was a bad idea.
For a moment, it was as if they were floating, as if their differences meant nothing. She clung to that moment, marking it in her memory, wanting to be certain that if she ever needed it again she could recall it with ease.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t have a plan. And she was actually okay with that.
The rest of the evening was a success, and as she navigated through the crowd of familiar faces, she relished the way her hand felt firmly tucked inside his. After the ball ended, they joined the locals for a late-night brunch at Hazel’s, and while Grady stuck to egg whites and whole-wheat toast, she ate a pile of her favorite pancakes and bacon.
“I’ve never been on a date with someone who can eat more than me,” he teased.
“This is only my first plate,” she shot back, as if issuing a challenge. It felt good to set her rules aside for a night.
Sitting there in the diner, surrounded by Hailey and Lucy and Carly and the rest of her friends, Quinn realized that while, yes, she hadn’t known Grady long, he’d made his way into her heart. And going back now wasn’t an option.
She liked the way he felt next to her, his leg pressed up against hers, as if they were a couple in a group of really good friends. As if he belonged there.
But he didn’t belong there, and she knew it. She tried not to think about it, but there it was, lingering at the back of her mind.
“How’s your breakfast?” he asked as she popped the last bite in her mouth.
“Gone.” She grinned. “Yours?”
“Unsatisfying.” He pushed the plate away. “Would’ve much rather had the cinnamon roll French toast and bacon.”
She set her fork down. “You’re doing an amazing job sticking to this whole regimen.”
“Have to,” he said. “I’m not twenty-five anymore.”
She squeezed his hand. “Is this how you usually train?”
He took a drink of his water with lemon. “Actually, no. This is how I should’ve trained. I kind of did whatever I wanted up until recently. But I’m making changes. You’re not the only one who was inspired.”
She set her coffee mug on the table. “What do you mean?”
“I came here miserable and broken, and I watched you and Jaden and, man, just everyone. You all work so hard. When you gave me that suck-it-up-and-deal-with-it speech, I guess I took it to heart.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I needed someone to be straight with me, so thanks.”
She smiled. “So, I guess you could say I’m your muse?”
He tucked a wilted curl behind her ear. “Definitely.”
“And when you win the whole Olympics, you could say it’s all because of me?”
He laughed, but his smile quickly faded and his face turned serious. “Everything good in my life right now is because of you.”
Lucy, with her impeccable timing, plopped down in the booth across from them, where her untouched plate of biscuits and gravy still sat. Couldn’t her conversation with Betsy have lasted three minutes longer?
Grady and Quinn both watched her as she opened the paper napkin and tucked it on her lap.
“Oh, don’t mind me.” Lucy smiled. “I’m just here to eat my giant plate of food and whisper ‘I told you so’ to my oldest friend.”
Quinn waved her off. “We have to go. Grady has to train early in the morning.”
Grady groaned. “Why’d you have to remind me?”
She scooted out of the booth. “Because I want bragging rights when you bring home that medal.”
Grady paid for their meals, and they walked out into the brisk air. Quinn wrapped her arms around herself, as i
f that could keep the cold away. Her shawl was obviously doing nothing to keep her warm. He quickly took off his tux jacket and hung it over her shoulders.
Only a few minutes later, they were in front of the flower shop, with her apartment up above. The memory of so many similar nights flashed through his mind, and yet not a single one of them had felt like this one did.
There was no alcohol, no pretense, no promise of something more if he came upstairs with her. And yes, he wanted to go upstairs with her, but Quinn wasn’t like other girls. She was special. Pure. Good.
And he’d respect that—no matter how difficult it was.
His hands slid up her arms, underneath the jacket around her shoulders. “You’re amazing—you know that?”
Her eyes flashed, a smile skittering across her face. “Just don’t break my heart, okay, Grady?”
He wanted to tell her about her mother. In that moment, he didn’t want a single thing between them. Secrets would only cause them pain, and he wanted to start this—whatever it was—the right way. But as he peered down at her face, full of hope, her fear exposed like a raw nerve, the only thing he could do was close the gap between them. How would he ever tell her that her mother had not only seen her design, but seen her? And she’d still chosen to walk away. He knew it would break her heart.
And standing there, under the awning of the Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop, breaking her heart was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
CHAPTER
32
THE DAYS FOLLOWING THE BALL were filled with Winter Carnival activities. In true Harbor Pointe fashion, the event lasted a full week. Every day and most evenings, there were activities throughout town, which meant tourists, which meant more business, which meant Quinn had a very busy week.
Grady had been a great sport about attending all of their small-town events—they’d played Moonlight Bingo on New Year’s Eve, attended the downtown winter art walk, which was one of Quinn’s favorite events, closely rivaled by the snowman building contest, which was almost always won by the Kelley family. If any of it bothered him, he didn’t let on.
Most of the press about him had died down, giving him time to continue his training in peace, and he was serious about it. He got up before dawn every morning for his early workout, and then he checked in for community service. This week, his duties were all centered on the carnival, ranging from hauling garbage to cleaning the sidewalks. She hadn’t heard him complain once.
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