The Gritty Truth

by Melissa Foster

  Angela gave her a deadpan look. “Seriously? You don’t even have carpets.” She grabbed Roni by the shoulders and said, “Where is that fearless girl who worked her ass off and went off to Juilliard like nothing could break her?”

  “She got hit by a car.” A pang of sadness moved through her.

  The sounds of girls giggling trickled down the hall, soothing that longing and filling Roni with happiness.

  Another text from Quincy rolled in, and they both read it. Time’s running out to make your move.

  Angela lifted her eyes to Roni’s and said, “You’re not going to let him get away, are you?”

  Roni’s chest constricted at the thought of losing their connection. “I don’t want him to go away, but I’m too nervous to go out with him. Can’t we just be texting friends forever?”

  Angela’s face contorted in confusion. “Let me get this straight. You want to be friends without benefits, and you don’t want to really get to know him? Like acquaintances who text silly pictures and ask about each other’s days?”

  “Suits me perfectly! I have to go teach my class.” Roni hurried out of the room, trying to ignore the sour aftertaste of her lie.

  QUINCY LEANED ON the counter at Luscious Licks, his friend Penny’s ice cream shop, staring at his phone.

  “A watched pot never boils,” Penny said as she wiped down the counter, eyeing him curiously. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy bun, held in place with a straw and a tiny clip, as per usual.

  “Trust me, this pot is burning like an inferno.” He shoved his phone in his pocket as amusement rose in Penny’s big blue eyes. People thought Penny looked like a lighter-haired Zooey Deschanel, but when Quincy looked at her, he saw a treasured friend he’d protect with his life, the girl who had taught him everything he knew about friendship. “I just can’t figure out why she’ll text at all hours, but she won’t go out with me.”

  “Ah, we’re talking about Roni, the only other girl in Peaceful Harbor besides me who doesn’t want to go out with you, aren’t we?”

  Quincy wasn’t immune to the single moms and young women at Between the Pages, the bookstore where he worked, or half of the other women he saw around town, vying for his attention. He just didn’t give a shit about them. At six foot three with a hard body and a face that was easy on the eyes, he was going to have women chasing him whether he wanted them to or not. But as a person in recovery from a drug addiction and someone who ran Narcotics Anonymous meetings, Quincy knew the importance of self-care and surrounding himself with the people who supported his recovery. Fucking random women wouldn’t do a damn thing for the man he strove to be besides reminding him of the guy, and the life, he’d left behind. Roni was a whole different story. She was the only woman he’d ever felt a connection with that ran deeper than friendship, and it wasn’t even something he could pinpoint or explain. He felt it in his bones, as if they were meant to be together.

  “She wants to,” he said confidently. “She just won’t.”

  Penny cocked her head. “That’s what you used to say about me.”

  “Yeah, but we both knew that was different. We could have taken our backs to the mattress and had a great time, but we probably would have lost this.” He motioned between them. They’d been friends since he’d gotten out of rehab almost two years ago, and yeah, he’d been cocky and Penny was hot, and they’d become fast flirty friends. But while everyone else had thought they’d end up together, Quincy had known better. He’d never had true friends until he’d gotten clean, and now he valued friendship above all else. He’d never risk losing that with Penny, and the truth was, that initial attraction hadn’t been life altering, the way his attraction to Roni was.

  “I’m just giving you crap,” Penny said. “I’m glad we never hooked up. You’re my best guy friend, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “You’d probably make a lot of really bad decisions,” he teased.

  “I already do that. I allow you in here, don’t I?” She smirked. “You’ve let that hot little brunette string you along for months. I thought you were just dicking around with her.”

  “Biding my time, not dicking around. You know how important it was to me to pass the two-year-clean mark before I got involved with anyone.” The day after Halloween had marked two years since he’d entered rehab and last used drugs.

  “Yes, but you’ve been playing the texting game for months. What makes you think she’s even interested? She turned you down when you first tried to get her to go out with you, and she isn’t even the person who won the date at the auction, remember? Her friend won it for her.”

  “Of course I remember. That’s a night I’ll never forget.” The first time he’d seen the gorgeous brunette with black-framed glasses, full lips that begged to be devoured, and a body made for worshipping, their eyes had connected and he’d been sure the room would go up in flames before he ever reached the stage. After her friend had won the date with him, he’d gone to introduce himself, and he’d learned that Roni, the woman with the most beautiful eyes and sinfully plump lips in Peaceful Harbor, Maryland, walked with a slight limp and was either painfully shy or smartly cautious. He’d been so intrigued, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since.

  “I can feel it,” he said. “There’s an energy between us that’s unfuckingbelievable.”

  Penny pointed at him and said, “The next time someone asks us why we aren’t dating, can you please tell them we don’t have that? That’s the greatest feeling in the world.”

  “How do you know? You’ve never said anything about a guy giving you those vibes.”

  “A girl has to have her secrets.” She chuckled and went to wipe down a table. “Speaking of which, does Roni know yours?”

  “My past isn’t a secret, Pen. You of all people know that. But it’s not the type of thing you toss casually into a text, either.”

  “That makes sense.” She began wiping down another table. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Studying. You?” Quincy was taking online classes toward a degree in accounting.

  “No plans, but I’m sure I’ll find something to keep myself busy.”

  The bells above the door chimed, and their friend Scott Beckley walked in, eyes trained on Penny. She looked up and said, “Hey, Scotty. Scott. Geez. I’ve been hanging out with the kids too much.”

  “Hi,” Scott said, heading for her. “I thought I’d come by to get a taste of my favorite treat.”

  “Hey, Scott,” Quincy said, and Scott’s head jerked his way, as if he hadn’t noticed him standing there.

  “Quincy. Hi.” Scott crossed the room and clapped a hand on Quincy’s back. “How’s it going, man?” He was a formidable, rugged guy with sandy hair and a quiet strength that told of the years he’d fended for himself after escaping his abusive parents at the age of seventeen.

  “Good. You?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” Scott glanced at Penny and said, “Just came in to grab some sugar before heading over to Sarah’s. I’m babysitting the kids tonight.”

  Scott had recently reunited with his estranged sisters, Sarah and Josie. Sarah was engaged to Wayne “Bones” Whiskey, a doctor and member of the Dark Knights motorcycle club. Bones had adopted Sarah’s three children, and they were getting married next spring. Quincy’s old roommate, Jed Moon, had fallen head over heels in love with Josie and her son, Hail, and Quincy was going to be best man at their wedding on Christmas Day. Jed was also a Dark Knight, and he worked as a bartender at Whiskey Bro’s bar and as a mechanic at Whiskey Automotive, both of which were owned by Bones’s family.

  “Cool. Kiss the kids for me. I’ve got to take off.” Quincy headed for the door, turning back to say, “Will I see you guys at the scavenger hunt this weekend?”

  The Dark Knights motorcycle club was hosting a scavenger hunt to raise money for the Parkvale Women’s Shelter, which was located about half an hour outside of Peaceful Harbor and run by the wife and daughter of another Dar
k Knight. Josie and Hail had stayed at the shelter when they’d first come to the Harbor. Bones volunteered, handling medical check-ups for the women and children who stayed there, and Sarah often went with him to talk with the women about her own journey out of homelessness.

  “Of course.” Penny set down the rag she was using and motioned to Scott. “This guy is my partner, since you’re holding out for your text mistress.”

  “Don’t give him a hard time, Penny,” Scott said. “It takes some guys longer than others to connect with the right woman.”

  Quincy’s friends were a tight-knit group. They all knew that he and Roni had been texting, and he’d made it clear he only had eyes for her. “Now, there’s a man who understands that it’s all about timing.” Quincy enjoyed keeping things light with Roni, getting to know her on a level that didn’t include exposing his past or the crimes he’d committed. But lately he’d hung on those texts, wanting to get closer to the woman behind them. It was time to open the floodgates to his past and see if she was willing to walk through them to be by his side or if she’d turn tail and run away. As he reached for the door, he said, “I’m a man with a plan.”

  “Hey!” Penny called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Why don’t I know about this plan?”

  “A guy’s got to have his secrets.” Quincy chuckled as he headed outside.

  He straddled his motorcycle and rode to his apartment above Whiskey Automotive on the outskirts of town. As he turned down the long driveway, the sight of the four-bay garage brought a rush of mixed emotions. The painful clench of his gut and the swelling of his heart battled for dominance. Quincy chose to endure the familiar reality check on a daily basis rather than find another place to live.

  There had been a time when he had lived through so many low points, he’d thought he was the only person on earth without a rock bottom to hit. But two years ago on Halloween night, he’d finally slammed into it. He had been severely beaten by a drug dealer and had collapsed unconscious on the lawn of the auto shop, where his brother, Truman, nine years his senior, had been working and living in the apartment Quincy now rented. Truman had spent six years in prison for a murder Quincy had committed and had gotten out only a few months before that night, when for the millionth time—and hopefully for the last—Truman had come to Quincy’s rescue. He’d gotten Quincy the medical attention he’d needed and had convinced him to go to rehab.

  Quincy climbed off his bike and spotted Truman standing in one of the bays wiping his hands on a rag. He was talking with Bear Whiskey and his sister, Dixie. The Whiskeys—Biggs and Red and their adult children, Bones, Bullet, Bear, and Dixie—were like family to Quincy. Bear was a part-time mechanic at the auto shop and a talented motorcycle designer for Silver-Stone Cycles, Dixie’s husband Jace’s company. Dixie managed the auto shop and the bar, and she was also the face of Silver-Stone’s new Leather and Lace brand of women’s clothing.

  Truman lifted his chin in greeting as Quincy sauntered into the bay.

  Dixie flipped her long red hair over her shoulder and said, “Hey, Quincy.”

  “Hi, Miss January,” Quincy said with a chuckle.

  Dixie glowered at him. She was tall, tattooed, and gorgeous, and she graced the pages of next year’s Silver-Stone calendar. She was also a badass who took no shit from anyone, which was what made teasing her so much fun.

  “I’m breaking into your apartment and burning that calendar,” she hissed.

  “Go right ahead. I’ve got three more,” Quincy said, though it was a lie. He didn’t even own one. He’d bought a handful of calendars to support her, but he’d given them out to the guys he worked with at the bookstore.

  “Dude, that’s my sister you’re plastering on your walls,” Bear snapped.

  “Jealous?” Quincy teased. “Put your ugly mug on a calendar, and I’ll hang that up, too.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, bro,” Truman said. His biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirt, blue ink covering his skin from knuckles to neck. His deep-set eyes had become less haunted in the years since Quincy’s stint in rehab, but they still held the prison-power to instill fear in the strongest of men with a single stare. His thick dark hair and beard added to his intimidating appearance, but Truman was the kindest man Quincy knew.

  “What’s going on?” Quincy asked.

  “Gemma got hung up at work, and Red’s got Lincoln down for a nap.” Truman’s wife, Gemma, owned Princess for a Day Boutique. “Do you have time to pick up Kennedy from dance class?”

  Truman and Gemma were raising Truman and Quincy’s much younger siblings, five-year-old Kennedy and three-year-old Lincoln, as their own, giving them the family stability and parental love Truman and Quincy had never had. Red was as much of a surrogate grandmother to Kennedy and Lincoln as she and Biggs were surrogate parents to Truman and Quincy.

  “As if he’d say no to a chance to ogle Roni.” Dixie planted her hand on her hip and said, “He’s been trying to get that chick into his lair for months.”

  “Trust me, Dix. If I was in a rush to get her in my bed, she’d have been there a long time ago.” But Dixie was right; Quincy was always up for a few minutes with sweet, sexy Roni. He looked at Truman and said, “No problem. Whatever you need.”

  “How about taking my baby overnight so I can have sex with my wife without having to jump up every time he makes a noise?” Bear’s wife, Crystal, had given birth two and half months ago, and they’d named their son after Bear’s late uncle Axel, who had mentored Bear in auto mechanics.

  Dixie smirked and said, “The way you paw at your wife, she probably needs the break.”

  “She loves it.” Bear flexed his tatted biceps and said, “She’s got Peaceful Harbor gold, baby.”

  Truman threw his rag at Bear and said, “We got work to do, poser.”

  “I’ll see you guys in a bit.” Quincy headed to the old truck Truman had fixed up for him. He’d long ago bought car seats, since he tried to spend as much time as he could with the kids.

  The dance studio wasn’t far from the shop, and he walked in a few minutes before Kennedy’s class ended. He slipped past the mothers waiting in the lobby and headed down the hall, following the sound of music to Roni’s classroom.

  Roni stood at the head of the class, gorgeous in a skintight white bodysuit that disappeared beneath the waist of her sheer black skirt and leggings. He’d noticed she didn’t wear glasses when she taught, giving him a side view of her high cheekbones, slender nose, and gorgeous mouth. Kennedy was in the front row, dressed in all pink, her dark hair pinned up in pigtails, and she was giving Roni her full attention. Love stacked up inside Quincy for the sister-turned-niece, whom he’d fought to keep alive in crack houses and on the streets before their mother had overdosed.

  “Right hand out to your side. Left hand out to your side,” Roni said, doing the motions as the girls copied her movements. “Cross your arms over your chest, hands up by your shoulders, and sway your upper body, leading with your shoulders.”

  She moved with such fluidity and grace, Quincy was mesmerized.

  “Let’s try it together now,” Roni said, repeating the movements slowly and patiently, her eyes moving over the girls, a compassionate gaze coming to rest on an adorable redhead leaning against the back wall, her hands tucked behind her. “Okay, ladies, let’s try that three more times on your own.”

  As the girls practiced, Roni went to the redhead in the back of the room and crouched beside her as she spoke. The little girl shook her head, frowning. Roni touched her hand, still talking quietly. The girl nodded. Roni pushed to her feet, taking the child’s hand and speaking loudly to the class. “Good job, ladies. Okay, let’s—” Her eyes found Quincy, and she stumbled over her words.

  A slow smile crept across his lips, loving her reaction, which was the same every time he picked up Kennedy. He winked as she struggled to regain control. She was so damn cute, smiling nervously for him, then tearing her eyes away with such force, he wondered why she bothe
red when it would be so much easier to give in to their chemistry.

  Roni walked the redhead to the group, then hurried to the front of the class and said, “Excellent class, ladies. Give yourselves a big hand.” The girls cheered and clapped, although the redhead didn’t join in. Roni stole a glance at Quincy.

  Hello, sweetheart.

  “Don’t forget to get your things from your cubbies,” Roni said, inciting a flurry of activity.

  “Uncle Quincy!” Kennedy ran over, her pigtails swinging.

  Quincy hoisted her into his arms, and she threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. After all he and the kids had been through, being loved by them was one of his greatest blessings. He was lucky to have many greatest blessings in his life, and he’d never take a single one for granted again.

  “Hey, jelly bean,” he said, snuggling her. “Mommy got held up at work, so I’m giving you a ride home.”

  “Yay!” Kennedy cheered.

  As parents filtered into the room to pick up their kids, Roni watched over the children like a mother hen, sneaking peeks at Quincy.

  “Did you see me dancing? Awen’t I good?” Kennedy asked.

  “You’re the best. Why don’t you get your stuff while I talk with Miss Roni?”

  She clung to him like a monkey and said, “I want to come with you.”

  He couldn’t exactly charm Roni the way he’d hoped to with a little one in his arms. Time to get creative. He carried her across the room to Roni, who was saying goodbye to one of the other kids. The second she was done, Kennedy said, “Miss Woni, my uncle wants to talk to you!”

  A nervous smile played at Roni’s full, kissable lips as she set her hazel eyes on him, causing a squirrelly feeling in his chest, and said, “What can I do for you, Uncle Quincy?”

  “Let me take you out tomorrow night.” Come on, baby, just say yes.

  Her eyes darted to Kennedy. “I’m sorry, but I have to work.”

  “Wednesday, then?”