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I laughed. “Not as good as you.”
He smiled and looked back down the hall to see if anyone was around.
“Your father asked me to go to the tarmac and pick up a Miss Sarah Hensley. Do you know her?” he whispered.
“Sarah Hensley?” For some reason, that name did sound familiar, but I couldn’t put a face to it.
“She’s spending the day with us. And your mother is thrilled.”
Whoever she was, she must be of high society for my mother to be excited.
“Is she a bridesmaid?” I offered.
“Don’t know.” He pulled out his phone and shot a text to Jax. “Guess we’ll find out soon.”
I hoped to brush my teeth and at least wash my face before seeing Quinn again. But it was too late.
The woman and all her perfect curves walked into Drayven and me pouring coffee.
She was in a red flowy sundress and wedges that drew my eyes to her legs. Her long golden hair rested casually on one shoulder in a loose braid. She was effortlessly gorgeous.
Quinn silently grabbed a mug and gave it to me to fill. Her skin smelled of fresh flowers, and it was intoxicating. I took the mug and poured the warm liquid into it while trying to hold her gaze and attempt to read her. Handing her back the mug, I wrapped her free hand in mine.
Drayven spoke first.
“Sorry about last night, Quinn. The pregnant bride calls the shots around here.” He took a sip from his mug.
She smiled at him.
“No need to apologize. Weston was the perfect gentleman and gave me his room,” she said. She managed to free her hand from my grasp and held my gaze.
I scoffed.
Perfect gentleman, my ass. If it weren’t for the rude interruption, I would’ve had her completely naked and screaming my name into a pillow.
“Ri-ight,” said Drayven with a raised brow. He knew me too well. “I have to head out.” He set his mug on the table.
“Text me what you find out,” I told him.
He nodded and ducked out, leaving Quinn and me to ourselves.
She sat down at the table, and I took the seat next to her.
“I’m sorry about my father. The night shouldn’t have ended that way.”
She stared down at her foot shaking under the table.
“Weston, I can’t do this—this dance with your family,” she said, playing with her braid. “I’m here for Lucy. Things can’t get complicated. Not again. I have enough to worry about with my own mama and keeping the shop going.”
My entire world felt like it had stopped.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying we need to leaveusin the past. Where we belong.”
My hopes were instantly dashed.
I propped my head on the table and ran my free hand through my hair. When I looked up at her she was staring into her empty coffee mug.
