Dearborn

by Jenni Moen

  “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I breathed, noticing for the first time he was also dressed up. When combined with his delicious scent, Quinn in dress pants, a button-down shirt, and fancy leather loafers gave new meaning to the Dearborn Effect.

  His eyes traveled down my body, lingering here and there. My body heated under his gaze. “You dressed up,” he said, echoing my own thoughts.

  “And you smelled up,” I responded. His brow quirked in confusion. “I only meant that you smell good.”

  “Ahh. Well, Eau de Sweat didn’t seem appropriate for a night on the town.” He gestured behind him. “Should we go?”

  “Sure.” Or we could stay.

  “We have reservations.”

  “We better go then.” Or we could cancel them. He met my eyes. He was as determined to go as I was to stay. “I’ll get my coat.”

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of Pond & Duck. He’d insisted on driving my car because his truck was a dirty mess. Knowing my projects were to blame for it, I’d gladly handed over my keys.

  “This is too fancy, Quinn.”

  “No, it’s not. This is where I would have taken you.”

  “Huh?” I asked somewhat mesmerized by the romantic glow of the lights streaming from the windows of the restaurant.

  “If I’d taken you to the fall dance, this is where we would’ve come for dinner.”

  Oh.

  Once again, I was speechless. Pond & Duck was the nicest restaurant in town. All the high school kids brought their dates here when they wanted to play grown-up. “It’s probably been about that long since I’ve been here, to be honest.”

  “Well, then you’re overdue for a nice dinner.”

  He unfolded himself out of my tiny car and walked around to open the door for me. With his hand on my back, he led me through the front door. As soon as we were inside and he removed it, the air around me shifted. It was a Friday night, and the restaurant was packed. A few couples stood waiting around the hostess stand. Quinn bypassed them all to ask about our reservation.

  The hostess led us through the crowded dining room. The best tables sat along the back wall and looked out over the pond. Quinn’s mood plummeted with every step. By the time we sat down, I was thoroughly confused and my head was beginning to ache. I didn’t understand where the good mood in the car had gone. I needed to touch him.

  The hostess handed us menus and disappeared.

  I reached across the table for his hand. As soon he wrapped his around mine, I felt marginally better. “I can tell this is hard for you,” I offered.

  He squeezed my hand and smiled weakly. “Honestly, it’s the way people look at me. It gets to me.”

  “You mean like they adore you?” I was confused. As we’d walked through the restaurant, plenty of people had recognized him and smiled. No one had looked at him crossly as far as I knew.

  His face tightened, and he cleared his throat. “Like I’m something I’m not.”

  “But you’re a hero, Quinn. For most of these people, you’re the closest thing to a superhero they’ll ever get.”

  “Trust me. I’m not.”

  “In our minds, you are. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Please don’t say that, Willow. Don’t be one of them, too. I like being around you because you look at me the same way you always did. Like nothing’s different.”

  I shifted in my chair. It’s because I adored you before. Nothing has changed. “Why don’t we go somewhere else?” I offered. “We can pick up some fast food, go home, and have a carpet picnic.”

  He squeezed my hand again and let go. He leaned back in his chair. “No. We’re doing this.”

  I nodded as the waitress showed up to take our drink orders. I ran through the tea recipe in my head and then browsed quickly through the menu before ordering a cup of chamomile tea, a Moscow Mule, and a water. The waitress looked at me like I was crazy when I ordered a side of baked cinnamon pears as an appetizer.

  Quinn’s face shone with amusement. “Thirsty much?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I get it,” he said, his eyes suddenly wide. “You’re trying to recreate that awful stuff you drink, aren’t you? What’s it called? Willow’s Tea. I saw it in Janice’s recipe book.”

  I was stumped. How could I share the truth with him without completely freaking him out? I didn’t want to hide who I was from him any longer than I had to, but I didn’t want to scare him off either. My secrets would do that. I feared it would be a long time before I could be completely honest with him, but maybe I could start with something small. Maybe if I gave a little of myself, he’d open up too and explain to me why his heart was so heavy. Maybe he’d explain why he’d been naked in the woods that morning.

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I can’t get enough of the vile stuff.”

  “You said it’s medicinal. What does it do for you?”

  “I’ve had a lot of stomach issues recently.”

  “That virus,” he said, nodding. “You really need to go see a doctor.”

  “The tea actually helps quite a bit.” I took a deep breath. “It’s not a virus. It’s just … I have an extremely sensitive stomach. Being around people can be very difficult for me.” Namely, you.

  “You suffer from anxiety?”

  “Sometimes. It depends on what’s going on around me.” And how you feel.

  I knew my answers were vague, but there wasn’t really another way to answer him honestly. “Anyway, the tea helps soothe my stomach and calm my nerves. It’s something Janice came up with when I was in high school.”

  “You’ve been drinking this stuff since high school?” he asked in disbelief.

  “No. I guess you could say I’ve been in sort of a relapse.” Since you walked into my life.

  He leaned forward, his eyes earnest, his heart full of sincerity. “I have PTSD.” He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair, and a few of the Quinn puzzle pieces fell into place for me. “They diagnosed me after the …” His already quiet voice trailed off to nothing.

  I held my breath, waiting for him to finish his sentence. When it became clear he wasn’t going to, I tried to fill the empty air between us. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I really can’t imagine.”

  He shook his head. “But it sounds like you can. I get anxious in places like this, too.” He’d assumed it was everyone else in the room who made me anxious rather than my present company. “It’s not just the way people look at me. I have triggers, and I’m worried something is going to happen that will trigger a bad reaction. My therapist said I’m a walking time bomb.”

  “If that is your therapist’s clinical diagnosis, then I think you need a new therapist.”

  He smiled. “Well, I may have paraphrased a little. You know, put it in layman’s terms. It’s severe enough they forced me into a medical retirement. Obviously, I can’t go into the field if my boys can’t count on me. So I’m now a washed-up soldier, of no good to anyone at the age of thirty-one. I can’t even help on the training side.” A full spectrum of grays surrounded our table.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn.”

  “It’s just … it’s all I know. It’s all I’ve ever done. I’m not sure what to do now. I don’t know how to leave it behind.”

  “You’ll find a new reason to move forward. There’s something else out there for you. I know it.”

  “Maybe,” he said as our waitress returned with our drinks. When she walked away a few minutes later, she had food orders even though we’d barely glanced at our menus. “Let’s talk about something else. How was the new guy this afternoon? Did you hire Leslie?”

  I smiled at his apparent annoyance with the guy. “Is he the reason why we’re here?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked with feigned innocence.

  “I mean, he was obviously hitting on me this afternoon, and now we’re at the nicest restaurant in town. I just wondered if maybe he had something to do with it.”


  His eyes widened, and then a big grin spread across his face. “Are you really just going to call me out like that?”

  “Yep,” I said, grinning back at him over the top of the copper mug containing my Moscow Mule. “I really am. If it’s the reason we’re here, I’m okay with it. I thought it was cute.”

  “You thought he was cute?”

  “No. I think this jealous streak is cute.”

  “Does it scare you?”

  “No. The men in my family are all very possessive. I’m used to it.”

  He nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Good because I’m afraid there’s probably more where that came from.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “I’ve never done this before, so no, I’m not sure.”

  “Done what before?” I teased.

  “Dated a woman.”

  I snorted. “I do not believe that for one second, Quinn Dearborn. I know for a fact you’ve dated women. I remember one pretty clearly.”

  “She was just a girl. We were kids. This is a new ballgame for me.”

  My skepticism had to be written all over my face. “Are you really trying to tell me you haven’t had a girlfriend during the past fifteen years? How gullible do you think I am?”

  “If you hired Leslie, I’m hoping you’re not gullible at all.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t change the subject.” Our waitress set our salads in front of us, but we barely noticed. “Tell me about your last girlfriend.”

  “She was about five-foot-seven, a hundred pounds sopping wet, and usually on the top of the pyramid at my high school games. I saw her at the 7-Eleven a few days ago, and she has a whole gaggle of kids who look an awful lot like Bryson.”

  I was starting to get annoyed. After all, I’d freely disclosed my quasi-relationship with Tim. “I do not like liars, Quinn.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I immediately regretted them. I wasn’t being completely honest with him either. I’d only begun to divulge the depth of my secrets. “I’m sorry … I have a hard time believing Hannah was your last girlfriend,” I backpedaled.

  “She was. I swear. I’ve seen ladies from time to time, but I’ve had more understandings than relationships, if you know what I mean.” He looked sheepish. “My priorities have always been elsewhere.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  He sat taller in his chair. “Never.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Speaking of suitors,” he said. “Did you hire Mr. Exceptional Reflexes or not?” He wasn’t going to let this go.

  I answered him with a sweet smile and a good teasing. “Yes, I think he’s going to be really good for the diner, and he’s quite charming, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t poke the bear. He wakes angry.”

  I giggled. “I said the same thing earlier to Ryan.”

  “There’s no shortage of beautiful sights in Woodland Creek,” Quinn mocked. “Did he really think that would work on you?” He narrowed his eyes. “It didn’t work on you, right?”

  I laughed. “No, it didn’t work on me. See, there’s this guy, and I kind of only have eyes for him. Turns out he hasn’t had a girlfriend in over a decade so he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s a fun ride, though.”

  “Willow Ryker, are you saying you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

  My face flushed. It hadn’t been what I’d been saying at all, but now that he mentioned it, I realized it was exactly what I wanted.

  Someday.

  After we’d worked through some of his issues and I’d come clean about all of mine.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” he continued. “I’m just giving you a hard time. We’re not there yet, but I want to stake my claim before the guy with the pretty eyes and fancy lines tries to steal my girl.” He leaned forward and touched my arm. “Because you need to know something about me.”

  “What?” I asked and then held my breath.

  “I’m in like with you, Willow Ryker.”

  It didn’t matter what else happened the rest of the night. I knew I’d still have a smile on my face when I went to bed. “I’m in like with you too, Quinn Dearborn.”

  I STEPPED INSIDE THE DARK foyer and put my purse on the table by the front door. When I turned, Quinn was still standing in the open doorway, his massive body backlit by the porch light. “Are you coming in?”

  I could vaguely make out the shake of his head. “No, not tonight.”

  We were both disappointed in his decision. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. It’s late and you have to get up early tomorrow. I have to go to my mom’s in the morning to get my hunting gear together.”

  Excuses. Another example of one step forward and two steps back.

  If he wasn’t going to come inside, I was going to get one hell of a good night kiss before I let him go. I walked back to the doorway and ran my hands up his chest, a decision that made us both happy. “Tonight wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked.

  “Well, I hope not,” he murmured. He ran an arm between my dress and coat and pulled me closer to him. “Bad wasn’t really what I was going for.”

  My fingers, ever eager to explore, skirted over his shoulders and around to the back of his neck. “My salad was good. You barely touched your steak, but neither of us flipped out on anyone or made a scene. All in all, I’m declaring it a success.” I didn’t add that I’d learned a few things about him, confessed a few things myself, and was still glowing because he was ‘in like’ with me.

  “You know the steak just didn’t taste good to me. Weird.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “But I know this—I had good company tonight. She made it easy.”

  I raised up on my tiptoes to give him a reason to stay. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  I didn’t give him time to argue or overthink it before my mouth was on his. The slide of my lips against his begged him to stop pushing me away. My kiss invited him in and pleaded with him to stay.

  He parted his lips and his tongue found mine. They belonged together. My fingers gripped his hair. My body melted into his. I never felt so whole and at peace as when I was touching him.

  Don’t stop.

  His breath was ragged as he stole mine. The hand around my waist belied his determination to leave, gripping me instead as if he would never let go. My body buzzed and hummed in response to his touch.

  I am so in like with you, Quinn Dearborn. So, so in like.

  Far too soon, he pulled away with a determined sigh. “I wish I could take you with me tomorrow. You make everything better, Willow. You make me feel like anything is possible.”

  I took a step backward, my legs still wobbly from my favorite part of the Dearborn Effect. “What are you worried about?”

  He looked at the ground instead of me. “I should’ve just canceled and gone to Louisville with you. It’s not as if we even hang out together while we’re out there. Hunting is not a group sport. We each have our own tree stand. It doesn’t matter whether I’m there or not.”

  I’d hoped sending him out with his friends was a good thing. I was supremely disappointed they wouldn’t all be hunkered down together having quality guy time while they waited for the mythical beast to wander by. It was only for the betterment of Quinn’s mental psyche that I could let go of my hatred for the ‘sport.’ I didn’t see how hanging out in a tree stand all by himself was going to help him, but I didn’t want to change his plans now. I planned to check in with my family. Since Quinn had stepped into my life, I hadn’t spent any time with them. Taking him with me was not an option.

  “Won’t you guys go out afterward? Dinner? Drinks?” I asked hopefully. “The guys usually come into the diner to talk about their conquests. Since we’ll be closed, I assume they’ll have some sort of backup plan.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. I just wish I could skip straight to that part. Beer drinking, I can handle. The rest, I’m not sure about.”

  “Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about it?”


  He laughed. “We both know if I come in, we won’t do any talking.”

  “Do you think I have no self-control at all?” I teased. “I can keep my hands off you. I promise.” I wasn’t sure it was entirely true, but I could certainly try.

  “It’s not your self-control that concerns me.” He looked at the floor again and then turned sullen. “I guess I’m worried about being out there with nothing but my own head to keep me company.” His gaze traveled up the stairs. “Working on the house has been good for me because I’m busy and thinking about what I’m doing … and you. I spend a lot of time thinking about you.”

  “If you have a bad feeling about it, don’t go.” It wasn’t the encouragement he needed, but his ominous mood made me wary. If he was walking into it with misgivings, I was worried too.

  “I already told them I was coming. I don’t go back on my word.”

  I nodded, knowing his word was more important than anything was. His unwavering integrity was part of what made him who he was, and one day, I hoped that the promises he would keep would be for me. “Okay, well, promise me one thing.” I stepped back to him and put my hand on the side of his face. His shadowed eyes met mine. “When you’re in the tree stand, if things get to be too much, close your eyes and imagine I’m right there with you. Just think about me, and I’ll be there to make it better.”

  I kissed him one more time before I let him go.

  QUINN

  A FRONT CAME THROUGH DURING the night. The air was crisper and colder than before. It was a perfect day for deer hunting.

  If you were somebody else.

  From the start, my heart and my mind weren’t in it. It was exactly what I’d feared—too much quiet in which to think. Too much time in which to remember. Sitting in rural Indiana with only the sounds of nature to keep me company felt all too familiar.

  Different geography, but still just a waiting game.

  Hours had passed, and I was jumpy and distracted. My knee bounced hard enough to bring down the entire structure. I’d expected the tree stands we’d used as kids, but these were fancy. Tim had said there were eight of the elevated blinds distributed over the 80-acre property. He had too much money, I’d decided. There was even a portable, gas-powered heater in the corner though I hadn’t bothered to turn it on. It was cold but not unbearable.