“Just get down here and kiss me.”
“That I can do.”
Before his lips fulfilled her demand, his phone vibrated on the nightstand.
Immediately after it began vibrating, a young voice started calling out, “Daddy, pick up! Daddy, pick up!” Over and over until Quentin rolled away from her to silence the phone.
“Why did I think it was a great idea to set his voice as my ringtone?”
Savannah laughed. That was worse than the time her mother walked in on them in this very studio when she was sixteen.
“You’d better call him back before he comes looking for you.”
While Quentin returned his son’s call, she went to the bathroom to splash some cool water on her face.
She smiled around her toothbrush as she listened to his caring, fatherly tone. He made her knees weak in so many ways.
Moments later, when he pulled her in for a hip-to-hip hug and a smoldering kiss goodbye, she informed him that she’d be hanging with them later today. His face lit up like the neon signs in Atlantic City.
“Assuming you don’t mind if I crash your Sunday party?”
“Joey will be thrilled.”
“And you?”
He pushed her back against the wall, letting her feel just how thrilled he was.
“Need I say more?”
She reached down to cup him, but he pulled her hand away.
“Later.”
And with that promise, he left her in the studio, all thoughts on just what she would do with him when she finally had him at her mercy.
***
“Stay, stay, stay, stay!”
Joey squeezed Savannah’s hands and jumped up and down in front of her, begging her for the millionth time to have a slumber party.
His eyes filled with tears and his lower lip pouted out when she said she couldn’t.
She looked to Quentin for assistance. He leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms, and casually inquired as to why she couldn’t stay.
Some help he was!
“You know why I can’t stay.”
“Why? Why? Why? Why?” More jumping. How he managed to have so much energy after the day they spent at the park playing kickball and chasing Rocco was beyond her.
“Yeah, why?” The sparkle in Quentin’s eyes made her smile in spite of the intense need she had to throttle him.
She made a sound of disappointment, looked to the ceiling as if she just remembered something important, and said, “Because I don’t have my jammies.”
“You can sleep in your clothes. Sometimes Daddy lets me if I’m really tired.”
“That wouldn’t be very comfy, though.”
“You can borrow Daddy’s. Or Nana Robby’s.” Such a problem solver, that kid. “You have to stay. Rocco wants to.”
Savannah couldn’t argue, considering Rocco was sound asleep on the cushions Joey had tossed from the couch to the floor. When she tried to make him move, Quentin and Joey both insisted that he not be disturbed.
“Please? I was so good when you went to see your mommy at the hop-sital.” Savannah smiled at his mispronunciation of the word. It was true—when she stopped in to visit her mom, he and Quentin had waited outside with Rocco until her mom had fallen back to sleep.
She breathed deep.
Quentin finally took pity on Savannah and pried Joey off of her hands.
“You go ahead and get your sleeping bag and pillows and stuffies, and I’ll keep working on our guest.”
She shot him a look that should have left no secret of her intentions. She’d slay him if they were alone.
With Joey whooping in the other room, Savannah tried to look everywhere but Quentin’s way-too-easy-to-fall-for face. Guess how long she was able to resist?
Yeah, not so long.
“Come on, Peaches.” He closed the distance between them, cupping her chin with one hand while guiding her hips toward him with the other. “The boy wants you to stay.”
“This is a terrible idea. We don’t want to give him the wrong impression of our relationship.”
“What kind of impression? I didn’t say you could sleep in my bed!” He feigned shock with his mouth wide open and a devilish glint in his eyes. “We’ll make a giant bed on the living room floor, watch some movies, eat some junk food. Joey can’t stay up too late because he has to get up for school in the morning. I’m not even on call tonight. You can be on one side, I’ll be on the other. But if you can’t stay away from me—and I know it will be difficult for you—we could maybe sneak into the other room once he’s sleeping.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You know you want to.”
“Do not!” She lied.
Why was the idea so appealing? She was a loner. A solitary wolf. She avoided children like one would avoid peanuts if they had an allergy. She certainly didn’t voluntarily stay overnight with them.
“You know you want to stay with me.” He lifted her chin, then captured her lips with his own.
How was she supposed to argue when she couldn’t even think around him?
“You’re staying?” Joey’s cheerful screech startled her, making her jump away in shame. “Daddy, you cheated. You’re not supposed to kiss her. Yuck. She’s a girl, you know!”
Quentin threw up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. It was a moment of weakness. I’ll try not to do it again. But you wanted me to convince her, didn’t you?”
“She likes kisses?”
“She likes my kisses.”
Joey scrunched up his face in disgust while Savannah rolled her eyes at Quentin’s lack of humility.
Joey pushed Quentin out of the way and wrapped his arms around Savannah’s waist. She couldn’t lie—her heart became a puddle. His hug was as brief as his calm. He dragged her across the room and started barking orders at her as he directed the slumber party set-up.
She complied, behaving like an obedient soldier.
Quentin moved the furniture out of the way and brought another pile of blankets from his room.
“I’ll tell Nana Robby she can take the rest of the night off.” Quentin winked over Joey’s head, making mush of Savannah’s knees. “She stays in the in-law apartment downstairs. She usually uses her own entrance when she’s not working.”
A fleet of helium balloons took flight in Savannah’s belly and her heart.
Not even halfway through the movie, Joey was sound asleep.
“I can’t believe he snores so loud.”
“He doesn’t get that from me,” Quentin smirked, watching Savannah from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, right. Don’t pretend I’ve never heard you sleep.”
She threw a pillow at him. He caught it easily.
“Ah, so a pillow fight is what you want, eh?” His smile was wicked. Seductive. Deadly.
“Don’t you dare. You’ll wake him up!”
“An elephant dancing on his forehead wouldn’t wake him up now.” Quentin crawled predatorily toward her, carefully avoiding Joey. “Come with me. We’ll take this fight into my room.”
Savannah grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into her mouth. Speaking around the white cheddar stuff, she said, “I have to see what happens to that poor robot.”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Quentin stood, pulling her up with him.
Breathing him in, she couldn’t think of one single reason why she shouldn’t give in to her impulses.
She couldn’t even convince herself that she didn’t deserve this.
In his eyes, she was so much more than she thought she could ever be. And with his hands glued to the side of her face and his eyes hypnotizing her, she could almost believe her value.
She opened her mouth to argue, but his finger covered it as he whispered, “Shhhh.”
She nibbled on his finger, looking up at him through eyes that were growing heavy with the need to be with him.
He pulled her close, kissing her deeply as he walked her toward his r
oom.
With one foot, he kicked the door closed, leaving Rocco on the other side. Rocco whined once, then must have given up, because she didn’t hear him again.
“Quentin…”
“No talking.” He made it impossible to get any words out, anyway. He kept her tongue occupied in the most delicious way.
“I…”
“We can talk all you want later.” He kissed her collarbone, nibbling gently as he started lifting her shirt. “Right now I have a different kind of conversation in mind.”
Chapter Thirteen
Savannah floated back home. Not really, but she certainly felt like clouds of bliss carried her. Rocco walked with a lighter step, too, probably picking up on her uncharacteristically positive energy.
She smiled, then grimaced, then smiled again when she realized there’d been a lot of that uncharacteristic energy coming from her lately.
The morning had been almost as perfect as the delightfully sleepless night. After the most fantastic lovemaking session of her life, they had snuck back out to the living room so they’d be in their appropriate spots before Joey woke up.
She laughed as she remembered Joey bouncing out of his sleeping bag as if he had never stopped to sleep. He dragged his dad and Savannah into the kitchen. Joey had dragged the stool to various cabinets, pulling out things he knew they’d need to make pancakes.
Quentin had tried to insist that Savannah not be allowed to cook, but Joey came to her defense.
Together, they whipped up two batches of pancakes—one blueberry, one chocolate chip. Savannah impressed Joey with her ability to make funky shapes on the frying pan. His last words as he rushed out the door for his daddy to take him to school were, “Next time can you make a car?”
Quentin had snuck back in after getting Joey buckled into his seat. His kisses were urgent, desperate. She had clung to him at first, but then had to push him out the door so Joey wouldn’t be late to school.
Her body began to burn. Mostly in her heart region.
“Oh, Rocco. What have we gotten ourselves into?”
He barked in response. If only he could give her the answers. He had been her greatest ally and supporter for two years now. Surely he’d know how she should proceed.
After cleaning up the kitchen, she had drawn a heart on a napkin and left it on the counter. She had let herself out knowing that Quentin had to work after dropping off Joey.
She quickened her pace, wanting to get to the studio so she could change into running clothes.
The test results for the bone marrow donation would be in today. Her nerves were zinging with anxiety, so exercise was essential.
Her mind drifted to a dark place. A place where she was a failure and let people down. A place where she was a killer—not a rescuer.
With a giant rush of unexpected self-esteem, she shoved those thoughts to the deep recesses of her mind.
Things were going great—way better than she expected. She knew all the way to her toes that the results would be positive. It was her mother, after all. They were blood related. They’d match.
Savannah would be able to help her mother heal physically after taking so much from her emotionally.
A tiny portion of her unspoken debt would be repaid.
The colors around her were suddenly brighter with this new revelation. The green leaves glimmered. The blue sky beamed. Even the brown on the forest floor appeared golden.
The world smiled.
Savannah smiled back.
And then her phone rang.
Her mind shut down when she heard the doctor’s apology.
She was not a match.
***
Savannah threw things. Then she cleaned things. Then she packed up her duffel bag and prepared to do what she did best—run away.
Last time she had left without a word. This time she had to be a grown-up and apologize appropriately.
She couldn’t trust herself to do it in person, so she did what she thought was best. She wrote letters.
Her letter to her stepfather was heartfelt. Deeply apologetic. She knew she owed him so much. She knew she was shattering his heart by leaving this way. But she’d hurt him more if she stayed. Hurting was what she did. Hadn’t life been proving that to her all along?
Her letter to her mother had her choking on emotion that begged to be expressed. She couldn’t stand the thought that she hadn’t been able to help her mother. This was supposed to be the way she, in some small way, made up for letting Brandon die.
What kind of daughter wasn’t a match for her own mother?
Praying wasn’t normally her go-to method of solving problems, but she got down on her knees and said a prayer to whatever higher power would listen, begging someone—anyone—to spare her mother and take her instead.
Her mother had suffered enough.
Her last letter was to Joey. She kept it light—thanking him for making her feel so welcome, for including her in their fun, and for being such a wonderful spirit.
She had to write it twice because tear drops smeared the first version.
She started to write to Quentin. She couldn’t continue. There were no words that could explain what he meant to her. There were no words that could make up for what she had done. There were no words that could make him think better of her.
So she drew a heart on a paper and folded it up tight.
She prayed that he got the message that she tried to emblazon on the paper. The message her heart so desperately wanted to send.
She even allowed the tear drops to stain the paper. This way he wouldn’t doubt her feelings.
***
Quentin stopped into Cup-A-Plenty Café for a quick dose of caffeine. Though, truthfully, every muscle in his body revved with excitement at the memory of last night. He had a feeling he’d be on alert all day even if he hadn’t slept a bit.
He gripped his cup tighter as he tried to walk casually onto Main Street. Anytime his thoughts turned to Savannah, his walk became more challenging as his pants became tighter.
Steps away from his truck, Quentin’s attention was drawn to the doorway of Miss Molly’s shop. He’d recognize that tight ass anywhere, and he wasn’t referring to Miss Molly’s.
Rocco broke free of Savannah’s grasp and ran for Quentin. Quentin opened his arms and invited the dog to jump onto him, much to the chagrin of his owner.
Savannah’s apparent panic at Rocco’s escape soon gave way to a look of irritation when she noticed Rocco’s wayward jumping. She scolded Rocco, forcing the dog onto all four legs. If the dog had a tail, Quentin was certain it would have been tucked between his legs. Quentin could empathize—he had been on the receiving end of that look a time or two.
Like now.
Quentin cleared his throat, choked back his laughter, and joked about sending her his dry cleaning bill, even though they both knew Rocco only jumped by invitation.
Savannah turned back toward Miss Molly, fidgeting with the cuff of her sweatshirt.
She shifted from one foot to the other, looking over her shoulder as if hoping he wouldn’t still be there.
He stepped forward, placing his hand on her lower back.
She jumped.
Miss Molly looked back and forth between the two of them, shaking her head and drawing her lips in over her false teeth.
“I really thought the two of you would give it a go. Can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
Huh?
Savannah leaned forward, leaving his hand dangling awkwardly in the air. Rocco happily took her place, enjoying Quentin’s administrations.
Savannah hugged Miss Molly. Questions raced through his head. Why did it feel like they were saying goodbye?
Savannah pulled away without a word and started walking down the street—away from Miss Molly and away from him.
He looked to Miss Molly for a clue. She didn’t say anything either. She simply walked back into her shop, grabbing a broom as she went.
“Savannah?”
> He jogged to catch up, tossing his still-full coffee cup in a trash barrel.
His hand on her arm stopped her. She turned and smiled. To a casual observer, she looked happy. Normal. Pleased to see him.
But he could see the aura of sadness in her eyes. Fewer smile lines on her face than she had when full of unadulterated joy. The kind she had last night.
“What’s wrong?” He grasped her arms with both of his hands, studying her for a sign. “Is everyone okay?” He would have heard if something had happened to her mother—he was on shift.
She blinked too fast, then began rubbing her chest with the heel of her palm.
“Peaches, you only rub your heart when something is hurting you. Let me help you.”
She dropped her hand to his arm, then stepped into his embrace. Her head rested on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. He’d chase away whatever demons fought their way into her mind.
“You’re not alone.”
She returned the hug, clutching him tighter than she ever had before. He kissed the top of her head.
“Come on, let me get you a coffee.”
“I can’t, but thanks. Rocco and I were just getting ready to go for a run.”
She wasn’t wearing her running clothes, and her hair wasn’t in a ponytail. He knew damn well she hated running on concrete.
Beads of sweat gathered at his temples. He caught himself holding his breath.
“Savannah.” His voice held a note of warning. Of unexplained terror. She pulled away and couldn’t meet his eyes.
He had thought this awkward push-pull was behind them after last night. Not just the sex, but the peace. The relaxation. The ease in which they related to one another.
He thought they were on the same page. Openly.
So why was she pulling away emotionally? What could he have possibly done wrong?
He opened his mouth to ask the questions that plagued his mind, but his cell buzzed with an alert. Great. Perfect timing for an emergency.
“Shit.”
Savannah raised her eyebrows in question.
Not Over You (Healing Springs, Book 1) Page 13
