by Linda Seed
“I’m fine.” She was walking with her arms crossed over her chest, the anger toward her ex building like steam in the center of her body.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“So now you’re an expert on who is or isn’t fine?”
“No. Nope. I’m just going to walk for a while.”
They continued on the trail, Quinn pointing out plants and animals to the kids, Jesse and Gavin changing places at the agreed-upon interval. Gavin was on foot now, which could have been a hazard since he was smaller than Jesse, but Gavin was also more compliant. When Quinn told him to stay on the trail, he got the sense that Gavin had never considered doing otherwise.
About an hour into the walk, they came to a clearing with a couple of boulders that were good for sitting, so Quinn pulled Jesse off his shoulders and they all sat to take a break.
“This is a good time for that water and those energy bars,” Quinn told the boys, and they obediently rooted around in their packs for their snacks.
“It’s going well with the kids,” Quinn remarked as Delilah sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree.
“Yeah. It is.” She couldn’t seem to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“I’d have thought that’s a good thing,” Quinn said.
“Oh … it is.” Delilah scrubbed her face with her hands.
“So, is there a problem?”
He’d been the one showing unnecessary attitude at the start of this outing, now she was doing it. She told herself to stop.
“No. There’s no problem. The boys are having a wonderful time.”
“But you’re not?”
She couldn’t talk about it now, not with the kids within earshot. She couldn’t tell him how distressing it was to see a virtual stranger bonding with her children in a way their father never had and probably never would.
None of that was his fault—he was just showing her children a good time, the way she’d paid him to do.
Delilah took a deep breath, let it out, and told herself to grow up. She could put on a smiling face for the sake of her kids. She’d promised herself she would give her boys a happy holiday season. And right now, they were happy.
So she would be, too.
“You know how earlier, you had a mood?” she asked him.
“Yeah.”
“Well, now I’m having one. Ignore it. It’ll go away.”
“Okay. You all right?”
“Yes. I am. Or, I will be.” Time to change the subject. “You know, those energy bars don’t look half bad.”
By the time they got back to the car, Jesse and Gavin were tired, filthy, and content—just the way kids were supposed to be when they were on vacation and had just enjoyed some time outdoors.
Delilah got them into the back seat of her car and made sure they were buckled up, then closed them in and turned to Quinn.
“Thank you. They had a great time.” She’d paid him for the outing beforehand, and she had to admit it had been worth the price. He’d been an engaging guide, not only keeping her children entertained and under control, but also pointing out landmarks, wildlife species, and interesting plants and sharing anecdotes about the history of the region.
“I’m glad.” He put his hands into his pockets and stood there looking down at her in a way that didn’t feel professional. It felt decidedly personal.
“People probably tip you, right? Is that a thing?”
“It is, yeah. But you don’t need to do that.”
“Really, I could …”
“I don’t want you to. I had fun, just as much as the boys did.”
“Well.”
“You know what you could do instead?” he asked. “To show your appreciation for a job well done?”
“What?”
“You could let me take you to dinner.”
The words came out of Quinn’s mouth before he’d known he was going to say them. He absolutely did not want to date a single mother. Christ, hadn’t he established that in his dialogue with himself since he’d met her? Somehow, his mouth hadn’t gotten the memo.
He could see her hesitating, and he wished he could take it back. But part of him didn’t want to take anything back. He wanted to take her out to dinner and talk to her and be with her, and maybe kiss her. The part of him that wanted all of those things was winning.
“I can’t,” she said.
“Why not?”
“The boys. I can’t leave them alone, and we don’t know anyone here, so …”
“There’s a reputable babysitting service in town that I sometimes refer clients to. A lot of the hotels on Moonstone Beach use them. I could give you the number.”
“Oh, but—”
“Look. You showed them a great time today. When was the last time someone showed you a great time? And when was the last time you got to take some time to just be you and not somebody’s mom?”
That last part got her. He could see her starting to sway.
“I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll text you the babysitting service’s number. While you’re thinking.”
Delilah got in the car and drove back toward Cambria, thinking about Quinn’s offer.
That had been unexpected. What would a guy like him want with a woman like her? She was a mother. She was notably lacking in glamor. She hadn’t waxed her legs in months. And her makeup had sat unused for so long in her cosmetics bag that it had probably turned to dust by now.
She hadn’t been out on a date in years, not since she and Mitch had started seeing each other. She didn’t even know how to do it anymore.
Except, she kind of wanted to try.
“Hey. Guys?” she asked as she drove south on Highway 1. “What would you think if I … well, if I wanted to go someplace sometime, just by myself, and you guys stayed with a babysitter? How would you feel about that?”
Gavin was the one who answered. “Dolly’s nice. We could stay with her.”
Huh. Delilah hadn’t thought of Dolly. It was an interesting idea.
“Jesse? What do you think?” In the rearview mirror, Delilah saw Jesse shrug, indicating a lack of strong feelings one way or the other.
She hadn’t decided whether she wanted to go out with Quinn, but she had to admit it was probably feasible.
She just didn’t know if it would be smart.
Chapter 11
“You remember the mythical god who rescued Jesse?” Delilah asked Roxanne on the phone later, after the boys had showered and changed their clothes and were playing with Legos in Jesse’s room.
“Yeah, what about him?”
“He asked me out.”
“Shut. Up.”
Roxanne reacted with such astonishment that Delilah couldn’t help thinking that her initial thought had been right—nobody as hot as Quinn Monroe could ever take an interest in her.
“You don’t have to be quite that surprised,” Delilah said.
“Well, I’m not,” Roxanne lied. “But … it’s just … you said he was really, super hot. Smoking. And I just …”
“You just thought that a guy that super smoking hot could never want me. That’s what you meant.”
“Oh, Delilah. No, I didn’t.”
Delilah felt the sting of tears in her eyes, and she chided herself for it. She hadn’t meant for the conversation to go this way. She’d called her sister for advice, not so she could dissect her own worst, most painful insecurities.
“You’re amazing,” Roxanne went on. “You’re beautiful, and smart, and caring, and—”
“Stop.”
“Look.” Roxanne assumed a stern tone, as though she were scolding a child. “I didn’t mean anything by it, and you know it. Don’t you think that when Lisa Bonet told her friends she was dating Jason Momoa, they might have been a little excited?”
Delilah smiled a little, despite herself. “I suppose.”
“Just because Mitch told you that you were worthless, doesn’t mean you are.”
Delilah felt the
tension build in her chest at the mention of her ex’s name. “Can we please not talk about Mitch?”
“Okay. I’d much rather talk about you. What did you say when he asked you?”
“I said I’d think about it.”
“What’s to think about?! He’s hot and he saved your son’s life. You owe it to him to go out with him. And you sure as hell owe it to yourself.”
Roxanne had reached peak outrage at the idea that Delilah might not accept the date, and her tone combined both shock and disappointment.
“He didn’t save Jesse’s life. Jesse wasn’t even hurt. And even if he had, does that mean I owe him sex?”
“We’re not talking about sex,” Roxanne said. “At least, I wasn’t.”
But Delilah was, which meant she’d been thinking about it.
She’d have to be an idiot not to think about it.
Lacking any other argument, she fell back on the one she’d used with Quinn. “I don’t have anyone to watch the boys.”
“Oh, come on. Surely they have babysitting services out there, with all the hotels and everything. Somebody bonded and with references.”
“That’s exactly what Quinn said.”
“Well, there you go.”
“You make it seem simple,” Delilah said.
“It is simple. You don’t have to get into a relationship with this guy. You don’t have to fall in love. You don’t have to sleep with him. Just go out with him as a way of ripping off the Band-Aid. Just … you know. Dip your toe. You have to start somewhere, so you might as well start with a super hot guy who saved your kid.”
“Just dip my toe,” Delilah repeated. “Or rip off the Band-Aid. You really need to pick a metaphor.”
“Don’t try to distract me. You need to do this, Delilah. I mean, why not?”
Because it might not be as simple as dipping her toe. If she got involved with Quinn—if she just dipped her toe—she worried that the rest of her would get pulled in until she was over her head.
Quinn tried not to think about the invitation he’d left standing between himself and Delilah.
Usually when he asked a woman out, he got an answer in the affirmative. It wasn’t that he’d never been turned down or put off—of course he had—but it happened rarely enough that he was out of practice.
Either she would say yes or she wouldn’t. And if she didn’t, it wasn’t the end of the world. She was just another woman. Just another attractive female who’d caught his eye, like many before her and like many more would in the future.
Except that was bullshit, and he knew it.
His thoughts regarding Delilah—he couldn’t even call them feelings yet—weren’t the same as his thoughts about other women.
Usually, when he was attracted to someone, he thought about her in terms of sex. What they would do together and how much fun they both would have doing it. But with Delilah, it was different. Yes, he thought about having sex with her—he thought about touching her and tasting her, God yes—but he also thought about talking to her. Spending time with her. Getting to know her.
Even worse, he wanted to get to know her kids.
When you were interested in getting to know someone’s kids, you were thinking about things like being a family. And that was something he’d carefully and successfully avoided up until this point.
He didn’t want to change that now.
Except, he did want to know her kids. They seemed like great kids.
You’d better hope she says no, he thought. You’d better hope she takes her massive load of baggage and goes somewhere else.
In the days following his offer, he put it aside and focused on other things. He worked on his salmon fishing article, which was starting to take shape. He moved on to the Bedrooms section of the furniture website. He took a group on an overnight hike to Vicente Flat campground in Big Sur.
And he tried not to think about Delilah.
By the time a week had passed, Quinn was so tired of not thinking about Delilah that he decided to try thinking about her instead.
He’d just finished the first draft of the fishing article and was taking a break on his front deck, drinking a soda from the can and watching the midmorning dog-walkers go by, when he decided to text her.
Are you done thinking yet?
He sent the text, wondering if it was flirty enough or amusing enough or casual enough. And since when had Quinn ever worried about his game with women?
The response came back a moment later.
Not quite yet.
Oh, for God’s sake. He needed to push for an answer, if only so she could put him out of his misery.
While you’re thinking, why not have a meal with me? Thinking goes better on a full stomach. So I’m told.
He sent the text and waited, a half grin playing on his features.
A white-haired woman walked by with a sheltie on a leash, and Quinn gave her a friendly wave.
You’re pressuring me, she wrote back.
Just a little. And it doesn’t have to be a big thing. It’s just dinner. Or lunch, if you’d rather.
He waited while another dog-walker came by, then a jogger. He waited as a bank of clouds rolled in and brought the temperature down a few degrees. He waited as the mail truck stopped at his house, then passed. He waited until he was certain she had no intention of responding.
Then his phone pinged.
I’ll see if I can find a sitter.
Once Delilah had said yes, she began second-guessing herself immediately.
But that was just stupid. Roxanne was right—she needed to dip her toe into the water. Her recovery from the collapse of her marriage wasn’t going to happen quickly or easily, God knew, but if it was going to happen at all, she needed to take the first steps.
Delilah’s goals for the date were simple: She wanted to get the whole first-date-after-the-divorce thing over with so she could begin to get used to the idea of putting herself out there again. She wanted to make one tiny bit of progress toward being a person instead of a divorcée.
What she didn’t want was more complex: She didn’t want a new relationship—not right now. She didn’t want a fling, because she wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t want to complicate her life even further, and she didn’t want to involve her boys in something that wouldn’t last and that would inevitably leave them disappointed—again.
It was probably important to lay all of that out to Quinn in the interest of openness and fair play.
But for now, she just needed to find a babysitter.
She started with Dolly, reasoning that if it didn’t work out, she could try the babysitting service Quinn had mentioned to her.
As it happened, that wasn’t necessary. Dolly was thrilled with the idea when Delilah and the kids brought it up at her house the next day.
“Oh, it’s going to be so much fun!” She clasped her hands together, looking at the boys as though she couldn’t wait to pinch their cheeks and kiss the tops of their heads. “We’ll bake brownies. Or would you boys prefer cookies?”
“I like brownies,” Jesse said.
Gavin nodded vigorously, his thumb plugged into his mouth.
“Stop sucking your thumb, Gavin.” Jesse scowled at his brother. “Only babies do that.”
“Oh, now, Jesse, it’s his thumb, and I imagine he’s got a right to do what he wants with it,” Dolly said.
To Delilah, that was a good sign. She herself had decided that if thumb-sucking was the worst way Gavin acted out in response to the divorce, then he was welcome to it.
The fact that Dolly had taken a stand in Gavin’s favor boded well.
“I still don’t know which night it’ll be, exactly. I have to work it out with my… friend.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Dolly said. “What else have I got to do? Just tell your friend to pick any evening he chooses.” The way Dolly said the word friend indicated she knew exactly what kind of friend they were talking about.
When they left Dolly’s plac
e, Delilah sent the boys across the street to Otter Bluff and hung back a moment to talk to the older woman.
“I really can’t thank you enough,” she said.
“Honey, is this your first date after the divorce?” Dolly asked gently.
Delilah hesitated. “I didn’t say it was a date.”
“I know you didn’t. But you’re not answering my question.”
Delilah figured that if Dolly was going to put herself out to do this favor, she at least was entitled to the truth.
“Yes. It is.”
Dolly smiled encouragingly, then took Delilah’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I figure you deserve a little fun after all you’ve been through.”
Delilah thought so, too. So far, though, this wasn’t fun. It was an anxiety fest that felt more like gearing up for a root canal.
She hoped the actual date would be less painful.
Chapter 12
They decided to have dinner on a Thursday night. Thursday, because the tourists made the local restaurants too crowded from Friday through Monday. On a Thursday, it would be easier to get a reservation, and the atmosphere wherever they went would be more casual and less hectic.
Quinn made a reservation at Madeline’s, a little place on Main Street in the West Village.
He picked her up at Otter Bluff at seven, and when she opened the door, he couldn’t help grinning at the way she looked. He was used to seeing her in jeans and a T-shirt, with no makeup and her hair in a ponytail. But tonight, she looked … well, girly. In the best possible way.
The ponytail was gone, and she’d done something to her hair that made it full and wavy. Her makeup was understated, but it was there, and it had the effect of making her look just a little more vibrant, a little brighter, than usual. The jeans and T-shirt had been replaced by a dress with a kind of loose, swingy skirt and a neckline that was just low enough to be intriguing.
