by Tara Sivec
“You know he will never see it that way, so stop being an idiot, and to hell with what complete strangers think, who don’t even know you,” Wren says, holding a cup of vanilla ice cream under a dispenser and squirting a heaping amount of hot fudge on top before setting it on the counter and moving to the other side of the room. “Do you know how many times someone on social media makes a snarky comment about the small-town ice cream girl, and how good she must be in bed, to land herself a big, fancy house on the beach? I mean, it’s true. I’m amazing in bed, but that’s not the point. I don’t give a shit, because they don’t know what Shepherd and I have.”
Why does she always have to be so smart?
“Besides,” Wren continues, laughing with her head in the fridge, grabbing more maraschino cherries to add to the toppings container. “Quinn knows the only reason you’re dating him is because he has a giant penis and knows how to use it.”
“I knew you told her about my awesome penis!”
Wren yelps in surprise as she whirls around from the fridge, and I just sigh, quite used to Quinn sneaking up on me at the most inopportune time at this point. And also since I saw him walk in the back door like he owned the place, sliding his sunglasses off his face with a huge smile right when Wren was giving away the secret DickFax report.
Thank God he didn’t show up a minute earlier.
Walking the rest of the way into the back of the Dip and Twist, Quinn waves at Wren as she goes back to serving another customer, the island in full swing now that opening day has come and gone. Stopping in front of me where I’m sitting on the back counter, Quinn rests his hands on my knees, pushing them apart and moving his big body in between them. Sliding his warm, heavy palms up my bare legs, he keeps going up and over the material of my cotton running shorts until he’s gripping my hips, tugging me to the edge of the counter and closer to him.
“Hi. How was your run after I left?” He smiles down at me, making my heart beat faster and my body feel flushed, just like it always does whenever he’s close to me.
“Hi yourself, and it was good… but boring without you. How was your first workout at the stadium facilities?”
Quinn leans forward, pressing a kiss right under my ear, as I slide my hands up his chest and over his clean Sharks T-shirt, inhaling the soapy smell of him from his shower at the field before he came back here.
“Not as good as the workout you gave me before I left,” he whispers in my ear, making me shiver when he places another kiss against the side of my neck and when I remember the sex we had on his kitchen counter after I made him breakfast. “I like waking up with you in my bed. That needs to happen more often.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest as Quinn kisses his way across my cheek until he gets to my lips, thinking about our first sleepover and how there was no awkwardness. It all just felt so right and natural. Brushing our teeth together in the side-by-side sinks, setting the alarms on our phones, saying goodnight, curling up under the covers with me draped over his chest. I fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me, the sound of his steady heart beating against my ear, the waves crashing outside the open bedroom window, and Crouton purring at our feet. And even now, with him just barging into my best friend’s business, like she’s his best friend too, and he’s just as comfortable being here as I am having him here.
Everything about dating Quinn feels so right and natural in such a short amount of time, like he’s always been here on this island and in my life. He fits in like he’s always belonged here, like he’s always belonged with me. All this time, I’ve been searching for something to finally make me happy and feel fulfilled, and I always thought it was cheerleading, and dance, and performing. Yet here he is, the missing puzzle piece, my key to happiness. He’s funny, and he’s sweet, kind and supportive, and he bends over backward just to make sure I’m happy, wanting to fix anything that doesn’t. And let’s not forget the things he does to my body and how easily he can make me fall apart.
Sometimes, it’s all so perfect it’s overwhelming, and I can’t breathe, and I’m just waiting for something to happen to screw it all up, bursting this bubble of perfection we’ve wrapped ourselves in.
“Get a room before you melt all the ice cream!” Wren shouts at us, throwing a handful of sprinkles at our faces, pulling me out of my thoughts, and making both of us laugh as we move apart.
“I have a video interview with ESPN in a half hour and then a call with my publicist. I’ll see you later at SIG around three, right?” Quinn asks.
“You have a photoshoot,” I remind him as he pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses the top of it before moving out from between my legs.
“I cancelled it.” He shrugs easily, making that pit of anxiety in my stomach grow stronger.
“Quinn!”
“It’s just this one thing. It wasn’t important anyway.” He chuckles softly at my distress, leaning back in and kissing the tip of my nose.
He didn’t tell me what the photoshoot was for, but he’s Quinn Bagley! I’m sure it wasn’t just a few hours frolicking in the park, so one of his friends could snap a cell phone picture to use for his next Christmas card. I’m sure it was definitely for something important for his career.
“And this isn’t important either,” I remind him. “It’s a boring golf tournament.”
“It’s a nationally televised, huge golf tournament that is kind of a big deal all over the world, and Palmer is playing in it.”
“Like I said, boring.” I grimace, really regretting that I agreed to this months ago, when Birdie invited me during that dark, depressing time in my life before Quinn came back into it. “Now that we’re no longer pretending, we no longer have to be nice and say yes to everything. People need to learn boundaries, and you need to learn how to say no.”
“These are your friends. They don’t know what the word boundaries means.”
“I heard that!” Wren shouts to Quinn, looking back at us as she hands a milkshake through the window. “We know what it means; we just don’t give a shit. Welcome to the Thunderdome, bitch!”
“She used to be such a quiet, sweet girl,” I mutter when Wren turns back around to help another customer.
Quinn just laughs again, pulling his sunglasses out of where he hooked them in the neck of his T-shirt and sliding them back on his face.
“I will see you at three for this more important, totally fun thing.”
Quinn shouts a goodbye to Wren while she’s busy with a customer, leaning down to smack his lips against mine once more before disappearing through the back door.
Making that little bit of nagging doubt in the back of my head start working its way forward again.
“Jesus, that was…”
“Really boring. I told you,” I complain, Quinn and me flopping back onto the couch in my living room with long, exhausted sighs.
“I mean, it’s one thing watching golf on television. You can record it and fast-forward through all the boring parts. You can’t fast-forward real life, man,” Quinn complains, making me laugh that his dream of going to a nationally televised, huge golf tournament, thinking it would be super exciting, was dashed in several long, boring hours. “Thank God for Bodhi. If he heckled Palmer one more time, I think I would have pissed my pants.”
“Calling him a dillsack on the 17th hole was unnecessary.” I sigh, closing my eyes and toeing my sneakers off, my feet killing me after walking and standing all over the damn course all evening. “And he did it right by a camera. That’s definitely going to be on social media before tomorrow.”
“Palmer won, didn’t he? That part was actually pretty exciting. I need to hire Bodhi to heckle me on the sidelines for every game.”
Watching Palmer sink his putt to win the tournament and get to see Birdie duck under the spectator rope, race across the green, and jump into his arms in person, instead of on television, really was the most exciting part of the day. It made me think about being in the stands for one of Quinn’s games and being ab
le to do the same thing after he wins.
“Don’t even mention that in front of Bodhi, or you won’t be able to get rid of him every Sunday.” I laugh.
My laughter quickly ends with a squeal when I’m suddenly on my back on the couch, with Quinn climbing over my body and settling himself between my legs. I can’t even stop the contented sigh that comes out of me when I feel him on top of me, his hard body pressing into mine in all the right places. I immediately bring my legs up to wrap them around his waist, locking my ankles together behind his back and resting my hands against his sides as he holds himself above me.
Taking one of his hands off the cushion by my head, he moves it down to my thigh, running his palm up my bare leg locked around his waist, until he gets to my hip, the skirt of my dress bunched up around them now.
“I really like this dress you wore today,” Quinn says softly, shifting his hips, rocking his erection against my core, and showing me exactly how much he likes the short, flowing sundress I put on this afternoon. “And I like hanging out with your friends, and I like everything about this island, and the people here… but you’re my favorite part.”
My heart clenches when he drops his head for a kiss, rubbing his hand up and down my thigh while he takes his time worshiping my mouth, slowly swirling his tongue along mine, making my body heat and tingle with need.
“I like where this is going,” Quinn says softly when he pulls his head back, smiling down at me, rocking himself between my thighs again, making me let out a soft moan.
“So do I.” My reply comes out a little choked when Quinn’s hand slides around to my ass, clutching it tightly in his big palm and helping my body rock against him as he drops his head to the crook of my neck.
“Enjoy all this boring stuff now,” he mutters against the side of my neck, kissing his way up to my mouth and making me squirm beneath him. “This weekend, you get to come to the stadium and watch me put on the Sharks’s yearly peewee clinic, followed by dinner with some of the guys across the street at The Varsity Club. Our little bubble is about to pop.”
Quinn chuckles softly against my lips, but something about that statement feels ominous. I know he’s not referring to our bubble of perfection I keep thinking about, but it still doesn’t sit right with me. Not wanting to ruin this moment, I push everything aside and just enjoy what’s happening right here, in this moment.
“You can stop talking now.”
Quinn chuckles against my lips again, and I slide my hands off his waist, up his chest, and across his shoulders to wrap them around the back of his head, pulling him back down to my mouth.
We make out like teenagers on the couch, Quinn’s body slowly moving against mine while we kiss and touch everywhere we can reach, taking our time removing each other’s clothes in my dimly lit living room, with just a small reading lamp switched on in the far corner by the window.
For the first time since the locker room at the charity event, there aren’t any dirty words, and there isn’t any hard and frenzied fucking. Quinn’s arms slide under my back between the couch cushions, and he tugs my naked body as close to his as possible, kissing me slow and sweet as he enters me the same way.
Tears fill my eyes when he’s seated deep inside me as I wrap my arms tightly around his back, feeling like I can’t pull him close enough to me, like this moment is more powerful than any other time we’ve been together. Quinn’s forehead rests against mine, softly chanting my name as I squeeze my eyes closed, rocking his body against mine, the slow push and pull of his cock in and out of me making me whimper and cling to him tighter.
In this moment, I know the job doesn’t really matter. It’s not mine yet, but this man is. It would be a dream to say yes, but I know I don’t really need it to be happy. I need Quinn to make that happen. And we’re seeing where things go, and we’re liking where it’s going, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that. I need to stop worrying. We can figure everything out later. Maybe I’ll take the job; maybe I won’t. Maybe that job wouldn’t even be the right fit. But Quinn is. And living this life with him, where I can be at home on Summersweet, comfortable and relaxed, and then put on fancy clothes and shine at fancy events is all I’ve ever really wanted out of life, isn’t it? And I get to do that. Working at Sandbar Cottages is actually fun with Quinn by my side. I already have the best of both worlds, and anything else would just be a bonus at this point.
Quinn grabs my hands from clinging to his back, pulling them up over my head. He presses them into the couch, lacing his fingers through mine, pumping into me deeper and achingly slow, hitting the right spot over and over, pulling his mouth away from mine just long enough to whisper against my lips.
“You’re my favorite part.”
Right now, I just want to enjoy this man of mine and the way he makes me feel.
And he makes me feel like I might be falling in love.
CHAPTER 24
Emily
“The shit has hit the fan.”
“That was so amazing. I can’t handle it! Did you see how happy all those kids were? They didn’t want to leave. I can’t even imagine what it would have been like when I was little, to go to a Professional Football League stadium, and get to play and hangout with a bunch of pro football players. It must be totally mind-blowing.”
Quinn’s giddiness is infectious, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face as he practically bounces on the balls of his feet in front of me in the private back room of The Varsity Club, after a very successful peewee football clinic he and his teammates ran.
“Is your ego saying that you are mind-blowing?” I ask, making sure his head doesn’t get too far up in the clouds.
Quinn’s arms are around me, and he’s yanking me against him as soon as I get the words out, the corner of his mouth tipping up as he looks at me, my hands resting on his chest.
“I think you said I was mind-blowing last night, when I licked you into two screaming orgasms.”
“All right. We’re in public,” I mutter, shaking my head at him, trying to bite back my smile as I glance around the room.
“I believe we were on a very public beach on a blanket last night when you screamed, ‘Oh, God, I’m com—’”
One of my hands quickly flies up from Quinn’s chest to clamp over his mouth while I look around the room again. All of his teammates and their wives and girlfriends are standing around the long table set in the middle, not even paying us any mind as they chat and sip the drinks they brought in with them from the bar. I didn’t pay much attention to the restaurant when I came here for lunch with Quinn and Jeanie, because my nerves were too frazzled to care that day. The upscale sports bar/restaurant has a silver-and-blue color scheme, with black-and-white framed photos of legends that have played for the Sharks throughout the years hung on the walls. It’s classy without being pretentious, and I look forward to the day when a photo of Quinn is hanging on one of the walls, like I know it will be.
Quinn laughs behind my palm as I look back at him, his blue eyes sparkling with humor, until I feel safe enough pulling it away from his face.
“Sorry. It’s the power of the jersey, beautiful,” Quinn states, my insides getting all warm and gooey whenever he calls me that. “Seeing you wear my name on your back just does something to me.”
For tonight’s festivities, even though I love nothing more than putting on something fancy and getting all dolled up to go to an event with Quinn, a peewee clinic at the stadium for kids did not require elegance. Wearing another fitted jersey Quinn got me, this one navy-blue with red trim, I paired it with dark skinny jeans, dressing myself up a little with big hoop earrings, more dramatic eye makeup, and four-inch red heels, my long hair curled with loose waves and up in a high ponytail.
If someone would have told my younger self, drooling over pictures of Quinn Bagley playing college ball, that someday we’d actually be dating and one of those disgustingly cutesy couples who dress alike, since Quinn is also wearing his navy-blue home jersey paired wi
th jeans, I probably would have punched them in the throat and laughed in their face. Every day I spend with him, I still feel like someone needs to pinch me, and it’s all a dream I’m going to wake up from.
“I also like it when you wear your hair up. I have better access to your neck.”
Quinn proves that point by dipping his head and nuzzling his nose into the side of my neck, nipping and kissing until I’m giggling and squirming in his arms. Finally pushing away from him after a few seconds, I order him to behave as a few more of his teammates enter the room and greet everyone with high-fives and congratulations on another successful clinic.
Pride flows through me as I watch Quinn chat with Tristan, seeing him so happy and settled with this team. Thinking back to the night I met him, the decision he was wrestling with at the time, and the stress that was written all over his face, I’m glad he made the choice he did, and not just because it brought him closer to me. This is where he’s meant to be, and this is the team he’s meant to play with. And I know it won’t even matter to him if they win one game or if they win them all. He’s just happy to be playing again, with a team that feels like a family. And I can’t wait to support him and cheer him on with the rest of the wives and girlfriends and watch him lead this team to amazing things.
Oh my God… I can’t believe I’m actually in that category now. I’m Quinn Bagley’s girlfriend!
“What are you so smiley about?” Quinn asks in amusement, pulling me out of my thoughts when Tristan walks away. “Wait. Are you thinking about kicking me in the balls or something? Is that why you’re smiling?”
“I’ll hold him down if you need me to, Emily,” Marcus announces as he walks by, lifting his glass in cheers, making me laugh and Quinn shake his head.
“I told you they like you more than me.”
