“Turns out,” Sadie says, slipping back into her seat, “I had to pee, too!”
“Well, then I’m glad I asked,” I respond, helping Sadie get her napkin on her legs. She outstretches a hand to me, and one to Quinn, then smiles. “I’ll say grace!”
After Sadie says grace, I turn my focus solely on my daughter.
This part is on me, because Sadie is my girl, and it’s important to me no matter who is around now or a few months from now that she knows just what I’m doing and why. I’ve had a broken heart. I don’t want her to go through that, either.
I take her hand and give her all of my attention. “Before we eat, I wanted to talk to you about me and Miss Quinn.”
Sadie’s eyes go wide, and she slaps both of her hands over her mouth, feet kicking like crazy beneath the blue tablecloth. “You’re getting married?!”
“What?” I cut a look at Quinn, who’s wearing more shock on her face than I am. “Who— Why’d you ask that?”
She drags her finger through the mashed potatoes and licks it off, and I don’t reprimand her for that because I’m still processing her guess. Quinn reaches across the table, pulling Sadie’s finger through her napkin, softly saying, “Forks and spoons are better for that, Sadie Ruth.”
“Sadie,” I say, confusion pushing my brows down over my eyes. “What makes you think me and Miss Quinn are getting married?” She’s got no reason to think I’d be marrying Quinn, unless I’ve done a very bad job explaining what a documentary is.
Sadie looks between us, and now she looks puzzled. “She moved in last week.”
“That was because Miss Mabel rented her room to someone else,” I explain, which in this situation is a lie, but not a bad one. I’m asking the universe to work with me under the current circumstances.
She reaches for her fork, her little tongue pinched between her lips as she decides on where she’ll take her first bite. “Well, I prayed that she’d come live with us, and that happened, so I prayed that you’d marry Miss Quinn, too!”
Quinn laughs, and it’s so high-pitched and broken, so completely awkward and uncomfortable, that it makes me laugh, too. Then Sadie laughs, and we all sit there, laughing for a moment until I stop, and say, “Well, you’re right. Miss Quinn and Iaregetting married.”
Sadie lifts her arms in celebration, the same way Tate and Ido when the Cowboys score. Where do you think she learned it from, after all? “Yes!” she celebrates. “Yes, yes, yes! I love you, Miss Quinn, and I can’t wait for you to be my mama!”
Oh fuck.
Silently, Quinn gets to her feet and begins pulling open cabinet doors, looking above the fridge, under the sink, and even in the spice cabinet. I’m fairly certain she and I are sharing the same,this is gonna hurt like a bitch when it endswavelength right about now, and so I say, “Top cupboard on the left,” without looking.
A moment later, I hear her drag the whiskey bottle from the shelf.
“Sadie, sweetheart, there’s something we need to talk about. And it’s about Miss Quinn and I getting married.”
Quinn returns to the table and grabs my hand with hers, squeezing it so hard I start to wonder if she isn’t hiding some bareback skills herself. Rider or not, I’d like that grip on my cock. I glance up and see genuine fear in her eyes, and my chest burns at that moment, because I know she feels it for Sadie, not for herself.
Fuck. I’m gonna fall in love.
“We’re gonna do it tomorrow, after school, right at the courthouse.” Details are important. You cannot ever lie to children. I believe that. Minus the wholeMabel’s got a new tenantthing. I get a pass on that.
I scratch the back of my head. We’d made those plans, indeed, but we’re veering far from the talk I had planned.
“Do I get to come? Do I? Do I get to wear my favorite dress?” Sadie brings her hands together and twists her face up to make the expression universally acknowledged by parents around the world asthe beggin’ face. “Please, Daddy, let me wear Petunia’shanded-me’d-downeddress. Please, please, please, I don’t ever get to wear it!”
Quinn tips her head to the side. “Is it here? Can you run up to your room and get it, bring it down for me to see?”
Sadie looks at me, and I nod, because I’m not sure what the hell is going on. Sadie pushes away from her untouched meal and bolts upstairs, and from between her legs, Quinn produces the bottle of whiskey. My cock throbs, and my throat bobs as I try my hardest not to imagine licking whiskey from her inner thighs, bare and soft. I can almost hear how tenderly she’d moan for me. How sweet she’d taste. The whiskey would go down so smooth.
“C’mon, tip your head back, I’m serious.” She is. And that little fire in her eyes has me obeying, easily.
Tipping my head back, I open my mouth and enjoy the warm trickle of booze for a minute. She takes one too, sealing her lips around the bottle in a way that has me wanting to bed my fiancée.
“Okay, look. I know you were gonna tell her this is all just on paper, a plan.” She waves her hand. “Whatever it is, I get where you were going but…” Quinn shakes her head, eyes wet with emotion. “I can’t do that to her. I can’t steal her dream away like that.”
I sigh, realizing this is all my fault. “I know. I hate it. But, Quinn, we aren’t really gettin’ married. We aren’t really a couple. We have to tell her the truth.” I shake my head, stroking my fingers down the unkempt, unshaved jaw. My life’s been a mess, in shambles, just like this ranch and this house, for so long now.
I wish this thing with us were real.
