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My dad likes Quinn. He understands what happened more than seven years ago and has been instrumental in ensuring the rest of the family welcomed Quinn with open arms.
He says I’m his little girl and he wants to know the man asking for my hand better before giving his blessing, which is sweet… but as a rule, Bowens are not. Our kind tends to hold on to grudges longer than strictly necessary. And I’m getting the sense he’s maybe having a bit too much fun at my boyfriend’s expense.
So yeah, we should probably get over there… So I can talk to my dad, before anyone else does.
But then Quinn does that thing where he sucks at the skin just below my butt and I let out a moan we both know means the window for getting to my dad’s on time already closed.
Those possessive hands tighten, flipping me to my back. And then the man I love like I didn’t know I was capable of is staring down at me with his gorgeous Disney-hero eyes and a smile that promises being late will be worth it.
“You’ve got to make it fast,” I say breathlessly as he strips off my panties.
“Two for you, one for me.”
I roll my eyes, laughing and then moaning as he pushes inside, filling me with his body and his love and all the things I never thought would be mine. And all I can think isyesandmoreandpleaseandnever stopbecause this life we found together is everything, and I’m never letting go.
* * *
Quinn
Today’s the day.I know it.
Mr. Bowen gets closer to breaking down every time I ask. I can see it in his eyes—he knows I love her. He knows I’m in this for the long haul. And he knows that I’ll never ever let her hurt the way she did because of me before.
But this is her father. And for as bad as I want to marry George, there’s a part of me that respects him all the more for making me squirm.
It won’t go on forever. And whatever it takes so he feels right about putting her hand in mine when that day comes… I’ll do it.
But for real, it’s gonna be today.
We park on the street in front of her dad’s bungalow off Peterson. I help George out of the car and take the plate of lemon bars from the backseat.
Do I lookthirsty?
No doubt about it. Do I care? Nope.
The door is opened by one of George’s uncles who finally stopped giving me the death glare about a month ago. Today he’s all smiles and back claps as half a dozen kids under five careen between our legs and around the corner, the last one grabbing George’s hand and pulling her along with him.
This family is colorful chaos, beautiful and wild like the woman I’ve fallen into love at first sight with twice already and fall a little harder for every single day we’re together. I love this family. Even Ross, who’s sitting on the stairs ahead of me, and flips me off in greeting.
I give him a nod as one of the aunts breezes by, dropping a kiss on my cheek and whisking the lemon bars into the back.
Gary hands me a baby that coos and slaps my cheeks when I blow raspberries on her belly—whoa—and who sorely needs a diaper change.
Thanks, man.
By the time I find her dad in the chaos, I’ve already changed one diaper, helped move a dresser from one cousin’s truck to another’s and promised a game of soccer in the backyard.
George is smiling beside her dad—whose smile fades when he sees me.
Shit.
“O’Brian.” It’s like trying to win George all over again, but one day I’ll get him to call me Quinn. “Got something you want to ask me today?”
Squeezing my girl’s hand, I nod. “Yes sir, I do.”
Inside his office, I close the door, and he drops heavily into the worn rolling chair behind a desk overflowing with files.
I know how this goes.
