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He shakes his head. "No," he says. "It just makes me want you all the more."
5
NICHOLAS
This sexy little thing is a virgin. A virgin. And she came right out and told me.
Fuck. I thought I was in trouble before, but now, I'm a goner.
She unzips her jacket and follows me into the living room. When she sets it down on the couch, I get a good look at her in her tight black T-shirt with the logo from the grocery store where she works printed on the front. She's got a good, ample rack.
I shake my head. "How old are you, Quinn?"
"I'm 22. How old are you?"
"28."
She smiles. "Good."
"Why is that good?" I ask her.
"It just sounds like we're both completely clear-headed adults. We're both sober, of sound mind. We both know what we're doing."
"Pretty confident, huh?"
She nods. "Very."
I shake my head, walking into the kitchen. "Let's get these groceries put away."
"All right," she says. "Do you mind if I take off my boots first?"
"Not at all," I say, doing the same. Both of us in stocking feet and blue jeans, we head into the kitchen and begin unpacking the big package that I brought in from the cold. "This is enough food for an army," I tell her.
"Well, how long are you staying?" she asks.
"Just for three days.”
She clucks her tongue. "Long enough to avoid a family holiday somewhere," she says, side eyeing me as she pulls open the refrigerator and places a ham inside.
"Something like that," I tell her.
"So you do have a family?" she asks. "Or just one you're avoiding?"
“My family and I, right now, we're on rocky territory. Let's put it that way."
"But it's not your fault?"
"Not exactly."
She bites her lip. "Is this a red flag I should be leery of?"
I put some packaged crackers in a cupboard and turn to her. "My family thinks that money trumps all and I don't exactly agree with that," I tell her plainly. "I think that some of the people we've been partners with for a long time, some of the local farmers, well, those relationships mean more than the bottom line. And my mom and stepdad and his daughter Veronica, they don't agree with me. It's caused problems."
She nods slowly. "Okay. Well, that doesn't seem like a red flag."
“No," I say. “It’s not.”
She smiles. "It actually makes me like you quite a bit more. See, I've already told you I'm a small-town girl, but I'm also the granddaughter of a small-town business owner."
She runs her fingers across Linesworth Market, the letters on her shirt. "This little market means the world to me and my granddad. He's been running his place since he was 23 years old, just a year older than me. And I keep trying to convince him to retire. He needs to enjoy some time off, enjoy some of the fruits of his labor. He feels bad, thinking it's too much for me to carry on my own, to take over by myself. But the relationships that he's built with some of the vendors, I wouldn't want those to change for the world. Some of the farmers and the small businesses that we buy from, they rely on grocery stores and markets like ours to keep their family businesses alive. That's why when I’m working at the market, I keep trying to find more small business, small and unique items to stock at the grocery store, to help prop up small and up-and-coming businesses, to give them a chance."
She shrugs. "Sorry. I'm rambling. Maybe none of this matters, but–"
"No," I tell her. "I love hearing what you have to say. I love this kind of stuff. It matters to me too. I keep trying to get my mom and stepdad to buy and invest in smaller businesses, but we don't see eye to eye. There's something special about keeping things local, but the family business that I'm a part of has just gotten so massive that it's kind of hard to stick to our roots."
She reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it. "Thanks for sharing that with me," she says. "For being honest. I know families can be kind of tricky."
"They can. So it's just you and your granddad?"
Quinn nods. "Yeah. My parents died in a car crash when I was just four years old, and my grandma died when I was a teenager. She was a really good lady. And my granddad loved her more than the moon and the stars. They had a good love story."
"So sorry for all that you’ve lost." I reach out for her hand, and when our fingers lace together, it is heated. I know she must feel it, the sensation is more than warmth, it’s fire.
"What happened to your dad?" she asks.
"Heart attack. He worked himself to death."
"I'm so sorry," she says.
