by G. K. Brady
“Mmm … but the cops said he wasn’t in town then. Plus, he didn’t know anything about me or where I live.”
That’s true. But she wanted the whole mess tied up with a neat little bow so she could descend into untroubled sleep. “Kids.”
“Or the wind,” Quinn agreed in a voice thick with fatigue.
When she next stirred, light seeped through the windows and Archer whimpered softly to go out. She slid from Quinn’s hold, let Archer out, and hit the bathroom. Quinn’s hulking frame had barely moved when she slipped back under the covers and faced him. Eyes shut, a dozy half-smile on his face, he wordlessly encircled her and drew her against him. Heavy and hard, his shaft pressed against her abdomen.
“Someone’s happy to see me,” she purred.
He hummed his agreement.
She dropped her hand between them, and her fingertips traced the head cresting the waistband of his boxers. He let out a growl, and she slipped her hand inside, wrapped it around his thick length, and began a slow, sensual pumping.
The growl became a long, low groan.
“Do you want me to stop?” she whispered.
“Fuck no,” he muttered.
A knock sounded on her door, followed by Liz’s voice. “Sarah? You awake, doll?”
Another groan, and Quinn flopped onto his back. “Great timing, Mom,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Just getting up, Liz,” Sarah called, trying not to giggle. “Be out in a minute.”
“Okay. I’ll make some coffee.”
Quinn blinked at the ceiling, then turned his head to Sarah with a devilish smile. “Morning, Sunshine. How’d you sleep?”
She propped up on an elbow and leaned her head into her palm. “Much better after someone climbed into my bed.”
His look turned tender, and he ran the back of his hand along the side of her face. “Me too. I didn’t like you being so far away.”
“A little risky with your mom next door, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but totally worth it.” He rolled to his side and mimicked her pose. “Let’s just tell her already.”
Sarah darted her eyes to the ceiling and fixed on a wrinkle in the texture. “Too soon, I think. Gage might find out.”
“From my mom? How?”
“I don’t know. Besides, she’s got a lot on her plate right now.”
He tapped Sarah’s nose. “Okay. But I want to tell her soon. I’m tired of sneaking around.”
Sarah feigned shock. “I thought sneaking around added to the excitement.”
“I can think of waaay more exciting things we could be doing if we weren’t sneaking.” He waggled his eyebrows.
A series of tingles raced up from her core and puckered her nipples. “Such as?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out.” With that, he hoisted himself out of bed, plucked a T-shirt from the floor, and pulled it on. His morning wood hadn’t diminished, and the tenting in his knit boxers left little to the imagination—a fact Sarah wholly appreciated.
He picked up a pair of sweats and smirked at her. “See something you want, Sunshine?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Meh. Maybe.”
“Well, if you’re not sure, stop ogling me.”
“Or what?”
He dropped onto the mattress, crawled to her, and kissed her stupid. “Or,” he whispered against her lips, “I’ll shake the peaches from your tree so hard that my mom and the whole fucking neighborhood will know exactly what’s going on.” He nipped her bottom lip and retreated to pull on his pants. She resisted the urge to tackle him.
A moment passed before she caught her breath and squeaked, “Promise?”
He sent her a wink as he cracked open the door. “Oh yeah. That’s a promise.”
Quinn wasn’t able to keep that promise over the next few days. In fact, they had little time alone together to even sneak kisses. The house had exploded with activity, from police follow-up to Mike’s presence early every morning until long after dinner. Sarah didn’t mind him being there, though she couldn’t say the same for Quinn, who kept an emotional distance from his parents while he watched guardedly. Sarah had warmed to Mike, who’d relaxed enough to let loose an easy laugh as they talked. He avidly studied the routines she and Liz practiced and joined them in the gym, gently inserting himself into Sarah’s role with unexpected grace and humor.
“I’m working on earning the backup spot on the roster,” he said to Sarah one day, “so when you’re taking time off, it’s a seamless transition. And maybe, eventually …”
Sarah laid a hand on his arm. “What about her Parkinson’s? She’ll never be cured.”
His eyes quickly misted over. “I know. Which is why it’s so important I spend time with her now—these are the good years. I just wish I’d figured that out sooner.”
Her own eyes brimming, Sarah whispered to herself as he walked away, “I hope you earn that spot.” From there, her mind wandered to the near future. If Liz and Mike reconciled, there was little need for Sarah. There’d be no reason for her to live under Quinn’s roof. She’d find her own place, ramp up her job search in her chosen career, and submerge herself in her new reality. Quinn would move back into his beloved condo and resume his old lifestyle. Everyone back on track after the disruptive pandemic’s derailment.
Maybe it was time to send out more resumes and check into rentals.
Her heart sank.
Later, as she was sharing a soak with Liz in the hot tub, Mike appeared wearing trunks and a grin. “May I join you ladies?”
Sarah didn’t miss the twinkle in Liz’s eyes. “Of course,” Sarah answered, shifting so Mike could sit next to his wife. “Have you seen Quinn? He started working out when Liz and I left the gym, and I haven’t seen him since.”
Mike nodded. “As a matter of fact, I have.” A smile lifted a corner of his mouth. “He’s working out his frustrations by smoking a bucket of pucks in the driveway.”
“Frustrations?” Liz echoed. “What’s he frustrated about?”
“Oh, probably a combination of things. He can’t play, he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to play, he’s stir crazy, he doesn’t know how to handle his old man hanging around, and”—his eyes darted to Liz—“he’s none too happy about our family get-together. Not to mention it’s eating at him that the slimeball who hurt Sarah is free on bail.”
Sarah tried not to contemplate Wolf on the loose. She told herself she was safe, that he didn’t know where she was, that he wouldn’t hunt her down. But when she was back on her own? A shudder rippled through her.
In a bid to distract herself, she focused on one glaring question and blurted, “What family get-together?”
“Quinn didn’t tell you?” Liz said. “We’re having a virtual family, um … We’re Zooming.” Her eyes landed on her husband. “Is that the right term, Mike?”
“I think so. We’re video-conferencing with Ronan and his family. I guess we’re doing a cocktail hour.”
“When’s this taking place?” And why didn’t Quinn say anything?
Mike shrugged. “In a few hours. We hope you’ll join us. Archer too.” He winked at her.
When Sarah exited the hot tub, she threw on some clothes and went in search of Quinn.
Chapter 33
Zoom
Quinn was bagging up pucks when Sarah stepped out of the garage on the driveway, her wet hair plastered to her head and her feet bare. He arched an eyebrow. “Going somewhere, Sunshine?”
She shook her head. “Looking for you.”
“Aw, you missed me.” He opened his arms, and she walked into them, huddling close. The smell of chlorine wafted up his nose. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “You didn’t miss me? Well, I missed you, and if I could get my fucking family to leave, I’d show you just how much.”
She looked up at him, a little smirk on her flawless face. “Promises, promises. Speaking of family, I hear you’re having virtual happy hour with them today. Why didn’t you tell me?”
>
Quinn’s jaw clenched. “If I did, then I’d be admitting it’s happening and I’m going to be part of it, neither of which I am willing to admit at the moment.”
“That bad?” Hazel eyes searched his.
“Dad’s back, and now we’re all supposed to come together in some big kumbaya moment. I’m having a hard time swallowing it. Besides, Ronan’s a tool. I have no use for him.” A twinge of guilt flared as he recalled his mother’s stricken look when he’d told her he wanted no part of their get-together.
Sarah kissed his chin. “I get that. Your dad invited me, you know.”
This caught him off guard. “Really? Are you going?”
“Yeah, I think I will. I’m curious about this pain-in-the-ass brother of yours. But it’ll be really weird if you’re not there.”
He threw his head back. “Fuck me!”
“I’d like to.”
He leveled his gaze at her, trying not to laugh and trying to ignore the twitch in his shorts. His mind leapt to—and immediately backpedaled from—dragging her into the truck’s backseat and fogging up the windows. Maybe a pantry? A laundry room? “Did they send you out here to coerce me? Sex with you, by the way, is an awesome form of coercion. For the record.”
She giggled. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good.” He touched the tip of her nose.
Thoughts ricocheted in his head as he regarded her. Maybe he could tolerate family time if she were part of it. She’d be his backup, his defense. He’d certainly score points with his mom—and his dad, which shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow was starting to.
While he’d bristled earlier when his dad had appeared in the driveway, arms crossed—watching with what Quinn assumed was a critical eye—Quinn had relaxed when he’d realized his dad wasn’t going to tell him what to do and how to do it. Instead, to his utter surprise, his dad had done nothing but compliment his play and his shot, citing one highlight-reel goal after another. Even Quinn hadn’t remembered the ones his dad described in minute detail. Apparently, Dad had been paying attention.
“Good thing I wasn’t your coach,” his dad had joked. “I’d have probably ruined you. You have an innate talent, and you had the right coaches at the right time. I’ve noticed a lot of your goals come off that wicked wrist shot of yours. It’s precise, and it’s deadly. A thing of beauty. Your timing, the way you transfer your weight back to front, the flex in your stick … No wonder goalies can’t stop you. I’m proud of you, son.” The last bit his dad had said so softly Quinn wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.
Sarah’s voice brought him back to the here and now. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m curious about your brother, does it?”
Quinn grunted. “As long as you limit it to curiosity.”
She answered with an eye-roll.
Hours later, Quinn found himself at the dining table in front of a laptop, sipping a beer. He and Sarah flanked his mom and dad, and Archer sprawled at their feet. Ronan and Jen anchored the screen while a niece or nephew bobbed into view from time to time, interrupting in their munchkin voices. The conversation revolved around his brother and his family—with the occasional detour to Mom’s rehab with Sarah or Dad’s stint in Poland. This suited Quinn fine. Less attention for him to devote, less for him to say.
When the conversation wound up, Ronan declared he wanted to “catch up” with his little brother for a few minutes, so Quinn took the laptop to his office, where he began tossing a trio of beanbags.
“’Sup, Ro?”
Ronan smirked. “Sounds like you have your hands full.”
Quinn wouldn’t allow his brother to goad him into admitting anything he took on wasn’t a cakewalk—especially now that he had a better grasp of where Ronan was coming from. “Not sure why you say that. You saw for yourself it’s all good here. Mom continues to improve, thanks to the regimen Sarah put her on.” He added an extra dose of smug to his tone. “Mom’s been getting around like a champ on her own two feet. She hasn’t used the wheelchair in months.” Unlike when she was with you, dickwad.
Had Ronan ever thought to work with their mom to increase her mobility? No. He was too damn selfish.
Before he could get carried away, Quinn’s logical self reminded him he hadn’t thought how best to help his mom either—except to hire caregivers. His mom had been right about his previous picks. Glorified babysitters. She’d made little progress until Sarah arrived. Could Quinn take some credit for hiring Sarah? No, dumbass. Mom picked her and nagged you until you hired her.
His mind meandered to how different life would be without Sarah. Yeah, that had worked out well for his mom and for him.
Ronan’s scoff yanked Quinn’s attention back to the screen. “The timing was lucky, that’s all. Mom would’ve gotten there had she stayed with us.”
Ronan was doing it again, pushing Quinn’s buttons, but surprisingly the buttons weren’t engaging. “Sarah’s the one who came up with the program. All on her own.”
“You’ve got a thing for this girl, don’t you?” Ronan’s chuckle held an evil note. “Can’t say as I blame you, though. The girl’s smokin’. You tappin’ that yet?”
Quinn sipped his beer. “I always forget just what a prize fuckwad you are. Sarah’s here because she works for Mom.”
“You’ve always been an idiot, Quinn, but you’re an even bigger idiot than I figured you for. She’s there. She’s convenient. She’s hot as hell. You’re not going to be getting it anywhere else. If I were you, I’d be all over that.”
“Yeah, you totally would.”
“What’s the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
Quinn pulled in a breath and lined up his thoughts. “It means even though you’re married to a hottie of your own, you still have to screw everything that moves. Why is that?”
Ronan cackled. “Well, well, Mr. High and Mighty himself, ladies and gents.” Now his voice took on a snarling quality. “My relationship with Jen is none of your fucking business. It never has been.”
Quinn’s voice remained calm. “You’ve been telling me how to run my life for as long as I can remember. Let me return the favor and give you a little piece of advice, Bro. Free of charge. Someday this shit’s gonna come back and bite your ass. Jen’s going to find out—not from me, but probably from one of your hookups—and you’re gonna wake up and she’ll have taken the kids and cleared out. That day, you are going to be one sad mofo because it doesn’t matter how many women you fuck, you’ll never find another one who cares about you enough to put up with your bullshit.
“You’re my role model for what happens when you pull the trigger and get married too soon. And by too soon, I mean you haven’t grown up. You’ve always been a self-centered prick who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but himself. You think what you’re doing is between you and whoever you’re hooking up with, but it’s not. You have a wife and kids who are part of the equation, no matter how much you try to ignore that fact, and you’re opening them up to potential crazies without them knowing it. You keep going the way you’re going, and it’s only a matter of time before you hurt them.”
The blood had drained from Ronan’s face, and he went a sickly shade of pasty. “Fuck you!” he spluttered.
“Your brilliant comeback tells me I hit the nail on the head. You chew on that for a while, Ro. Later.” Quinn hung up and pushed a cleansing breath through his lungs. For the first time in his life, he shrugged off his brother’s taunts. A huge weight lifted from his shoulders, and calm settled in.
Later, while Sarah spotted him at the bench press, he told her about his conversation with Ronan.
“Wow. Wonder if we can nominate him for Husband of the Year? Just watching him during that session …” She paused to shake her head. “I don’t get it. His wife’s gorgeous and sweet, and he treats her like he’s doing her a favor. Why does she put up with that?”
He puffed out, “Don’t know.”
Sarah helped him guide the bar onto its stand. “I feel sor
ry for her and the kids, but I feel sorry for him too.”
Oddly, so did Quinn. “Why?”
“Because he’s driven by one-upping you. How does a person focus on anything meaningful when they’re obsessed with outdoing someone else? If you were married with three kids, he’d have four. You buy your tenth car? He’ll run out and buy his eleventh. You sleep with a hundred women? He’ll bang a hundred and one. It’s one big competition for him. It’s gotta be exhausting.”
Quinn winced inside. Did she really think he’d slept with a hundred women? Whether he had or not was irrelevant—it was her perception that mattered to him.
“Think I’m done. Thanks for your help.” He sat up and looked into clear hazel eyes that held no judgment—only warmth that nearly stole his breath.
“Anytime.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and bent to kiss his cheek. “And by the way? No matter how long or how hard he tries, your brother will never outdo you in heart.” With that, she turned and walked away.
I love her. I fucking love her.
Back in the kitchen, Quinn was mixing up a protein drink when his mother came up behind him. “Quinn?”
He downed some of the drink. “Yeah, Mom?”
“Thank you for today. The virtual family Zooming thing. I know that wasn’t easy, especially with your brother acting like a complete dolt. But you kept your cool, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve definitely earned your Adulting degree.”
He had no idea what to say, nor could he talk in case he choked up. His mom seemed to sense it. She opened her arms wide. “How about a hug for your mom?”
He set his drink down and fell into his mom’s outstretched arms, wrapping his own around her fragile frame. He realized with a start he didn’t want to relinquish her—they were a family, she and he. But if he had to let her go, having his father step into the role somehow softened the blow.
Chapter 34
House of Mirrors
