Suddenly, Quinn bursts out laughing, splashing her hand in the water as she throws her head back and laughs. The sudden change in her brings a smile to my face, even if I am struggling to understand what’s so funny.
“Holy shit,” she eventually breathes out, shaking her head a little. “Sean was sooooo pissed when they split during the last part of the tour. He went into a total rage when your brother’s band didn’t show for sound check. Oh my god, this is too good,” she says, wiping the tears from her face. “Ugh, your brother. So. Fucking. Cool.”
“Okay, okay, let’s settle down,” I say, grinning at her. “For the record, I think it was me who actually told him they should just split, so don’t go getting all starry-eyed over my baby brother,” I say, emphasizing the word.
Quinn snorts out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” she teases, and if nothing else, at least this conversation finally has her smiling again.
“Of Miles?” I ask, hand against my heart. “Shit no, that kid’s spent his whole life looking up to me.”
She’s shaking her head, still laughing at me as she asks, “Do you know why they ditched the tour? Sean never told me. He claimed it was some shit he didn’t understand, which I’m certain isn’t entirely true.”
“No,” I say, blowing out a breath. “Like I said, Miles doesn’t really like to talk about it all, but I know things were dark. Part of it was always about Daze not being with him, but I know there was other stuff going on too.”
Quinn pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, nodding her head slowly. “Yeah, that wouldn’t surprise me. I was never a part of that scene, but I heard the rumors. And obviously,” she adds, waving a hand around, “the rumors were true if what I walked in on in my bedroom is anything to go by.”
I lean over, taking her hand in mine. Threading our fingers together, I rest our joined hands on my thigh, gently brushing my thumb against the inside of her wrist.
“So back to this divorce,” I prompt, a reminder that we still haven’t finished our earlier conversation. “Sean English wants to pay you off, throw a shitload of money at you, but in return, you have to keep your mouth shut.”
“Gagged, more like it,” she mutters.
I squeeze our joined hands, waiting until she looks at me. “You can’t put a price on integrity, Quinn,” I say quietly.
“Not two million? Eleven million even?” she asks.
“Do you want the money?” I throw back at her.
“No. I don’t want anything from him.”
“Do you need the money?” I ask her, having no clue what their marriage was really like and if she has any savings to support herself out here.
She shakes her head. “No. I mean, I’m not loaded like he is. But I have savings, and now I have a job. Thanks to you,” she adds, her voice dropping.
“Well then,” I say, lifting our joined hands to my mouth as I press a kiss to the back of her hand. “Fuck the money and fuck the NDA,” I tell her.
She laughs. “It’s that easy, huh?”
“Yep,” I tell her. “It’s that easy.”
She smirks now, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches me. She hasn’t pulled her hand away, and every now and then, our feet brush together beneath the water too. “You make everything seem so easy, Kai Olsen,” she says.
Shrugging, I reply, “That’s because it is. You’ve landed yourself in paradise, Quinn. In the ugliest house on the island, no less. But you’ve got a job, you’ve got friends, hell, you’ve got yourself a brand new surfboard,” I add, tipping my head at the board she’s currently straddling. “And you’ve got me.”
Her smirk turns to a soft smile as she hooks her foot around my ankle, squeezing my hand this time. “I do,” she whispers, her gaze locked with mine. “Guess I can thank Sean for that too, huh?”
“Well, let’s not get too carried away,” I say with a scoff. “But decision made. We go surfing, and then this afternoon, you email your ex or whatever it is you do and tell him, no deal, fuck off.”
Quinn laughs, shaking her head at me as she mutters, “Just like that.”
“You ready?” I ask, waving an arm at the swell that’s slowly building beneath us.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” she says.
After we’ve surfed for an hour or so, I drop Quinn back at her house before heading into the studio. Grabbing a T-shirt from the back seat of my truck, I pull it over my head as I walk inside to find my parents making out like a couple of teenagers beside the sander.
“Oh my god, gross you two!” I shout, grinning as I walk up to them.
Dad laughs, glancing over his shoulder as he says, “Where do you think you got all your charm and swagger from, huh?” I roll my eyes at him, pulling Mom into a hug.
