Loving Quinn Novel by North Rose

(Annora)

My day passes by in a blur. All my patients are stable, and their surgeries are scheduled. My files are all caught up in record time. Every time I have a spare moment, my mind wanders back to the conversation I had with Quinn last night and the breakdown he had.

On the outside, he appears calm to most people. On the inside, he is still that wounded boy I met twelve years ago. The one who, at a young age, came to terms with his father’s withdraw from him. From the way Quinn described it to me, their house was full of love. That was until the heart of their family died.

With her death, his father shut down emotionally towards Quinn. It is a lasting wound that has stayed with him into adulthood. I assumed since he was now taking care of his father, that they had patched their relationship.

That is a topic I haven’t tried to bring up since I decided to give our relationship a second chance.

From the way Quinn reacted last night to the idea of having another child with Dionne, or losing me and Grace, I can see that there is still a gaping hole in his heart. One that is crying out to be loved.

Our daughter has healed him more than she will ever know, but I can see now that he needs more. I have an idea that will make him happy, and maybe if all goes well, it can set us both on the path of healing. Something I now know we both need if we are going to have a chance.

After the way I reacted to his anger over the meeting that Dionne wanted to have with him, I know that need just as much healing as he does. Kyle did an excellent job of breaking my defenses down. I thought I was over all the jump reactions when someone touched me or

yelled at me. Quinn showed me how wrong I was about that.

1

I don’t fear him. It was just a reflex from my abusive experience with my ex-husband. However, something I realized after that incident is that I need to go back to therapy myself. If the three of us are going to have a future as a family, the two of us need to be in a good place m**ly.

No matter how much love we have for each other, if our foundation isn’t strong enough, the c**ks will form. Then they will spread until the entire thing falls apart. I won’t put Grace through that if there is anything I can do to prevent it.

So, before I leave the hospital, I call my therapist to make an appointment for first thing next week. Ater marking that in my calendar, I grab my purse, briefcase, and keys, then I head to pick up Grace. Since we are having dinner with my parents tonight, I want to make sure she has her homework done before we head to their house.

While she is doing her homework, it will give me a chance to talk to Quinn. I want to talk to him about what he promised me. That he would go back into therapy for his PTSD. I also want to how his conversation with Evan McAllister went this morning. Curiosity has been

eating at me all day.

What did the man want with Quinn? Why now? For me, the timing of Evan’s visit is just too coincidental for my liking. His brother is married to Quinn’s ex-fiancé. The same d**n woman who filed a lawsuit the same day he came to see Quinn.

To me, it seems off in a way. I hope for Quinn’s sake that I am wrong. Please let me be wrong.

When I get to Grace’s school, instead of waiting in the pickup line behind the buses. I pull into an empty parking spot. As I walk up the front walkway, I feel the stares of some mothers here to pick up their children.

Their judging eyes and curious tooks never bothered me in the past, but they are bothering me today. I think it is because of how some of them were staring at me with jealousy in their eyes. Mrs. Taylor turns her back to me as I walk closer towards them.

I can hear them whispering but can’t pick up what they are saying. One phrase sticks out when I as I get closer. ‘What a s**t.’ Are they calling me a s***t? I don’t know any of these women personally. Our only interactions have been through school events or field trips if I had the chance to go.

None of them ever attempted to talk to me or get to know me. I didn’t try to talk to them either. I never saw the point in rubbing elbows with other parents other than patents of Grace’s friends.

I clear my throat when I stop behind Mrs. Taylor. “You seem to have something to say to me. Well, here I am. Let’s hear it.”

The other women around her gasp in surprise when I say this. Mrs. Taylor turns around to face me. Her face is pale, like she didn’t expect me to confront her. Bullies come in ages. This one is a wife, a mother, and someone who should know better.

She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. Her cheeks flush crimson as I continue to stare at her. I can tell from the look in her eyes that she would make a scene if we were anywhere else but here.

“Ok, so from all the whispering, the dirty looks I saw being thrown my way, you ladies seem to have a problem with me. I know why Mrs. Taylor has a problem, so I will address that one first. The man who was in the car with me the other day and sometimes picks my daughter up from school.”

When none of them say anything, but a few look away, I smile at them.

“That man is her father. Quinn has come back into our lives after serving his country in the Army. He is a hero and doesn’t deserve to be treated like eye candy by any of you. He is also in a committed relationship with the love of his life. Me.”

I look at them with a steady stare. A few of them to look ashamed of themselves. Mrs. Taylor looks annoyed.

“So, I would appreciate it if you ladies would show some respect. Not just to him, but to yourselves. This is a school, not a club or bar where you would pick up men. Have some self-respect. Oh, and to whoever called me a s**t. You don’t know me or what I have lived through. How dare you judge me based on the few EXTREMELY limited interactions we have had.”

With that said, I walk away from them with my head held high. It will be better for everyone if I wait in the front lobby of the school. If I stay out there with Mrs. Taylor and her ‘I am better than you’ glare, I may cause a bigger scene than I already did.

As I wait for Grace in the lobby, I laugh at what just happened. I have never been the jealous type before. I don’t think I am now, but the way women look at him bothers me sometimes. It is something that I will have to get used to and not let it bother me.

If I am being honest with myself, I can’t blame them for looking. Quinn is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. The way he fills out a business suit makes me want to peel him out if it, one layer at a time, like I would a banana. The tantalizing view of his a**in tight jeans makes me want to cup both of his a**cheeks in my hand and knead them like I am making bread.

That is all with him fully clothed! Every delicious inch of his naked body is something every woman fantasizes about. If I were a painter or a sculptor, he would be my muse. Knowing that all that delightfully toned body is all mine, make me smile in pure satisfaction.

Tomorrow night, we will have our first official date night in twelve years. I can’t wait to see what he has planned for us, I also can’t wait for what he has planned for me after our date is over and we are all alone together in his penthouse. He can do anything he wants to me,

and I will happily let him.

I jump a little when the bell rings to signal the end of the day. Voices fill the hallways as children rush from their classrooms to go home for the day. I can see Grace as she walks with her friends. She waves when she spots me. She says something to her friend, then makes her

way over to me.

“Why are you in here?” She asks.

“I didn’t want to sit in the car.”

She smiles at me before she launches into the events of her day. With Grace, this is a daily ritual. On days that my mother or father pick her up, she tells be about her day when we get home. I like how she tells me about her school days.

1

This was something I did with my mother until I was in high school. I felt like I was too old for it, so I started telling her about my week on the weekends. Eventually, toward the end of my senior year in high school, I stopped altogether. She seemed uninterested.

When Grace gets to that point, I will understand, but I will still ask how her day was. I want her to know that she can always talk to me about anything. With Quinn in our lives now, she has two parents that she can talk to if she wants. I know he will always be there for her.

As we drive back to Quinn’s penthouse, Grace goes silent for a few minutes. I look over at her briefly, then back at the road. She is nibbling on her bottom lip like she does when she has something she wants to ask me.

“What is it, Grace?”

“Do we have to move back home to our house when work on the bathroom has been completed?”

I knew this question was coming, but I figured she would wait until Sunday to ask me. After spending the last few days with Quinn, I must admit that the idea of living together is growing on me. Falling asleep in his arms, waking up beside him, and having more time with just the three of us as a family is something I want more than anything.

“We will go home on Sunday, but I promise I will talk to your dad about it. I know it is something you want, Grace, and I understand. Trust me, I want this too, but all of us need to be on the same page.”

I know she is pouting without even looking at her. This is a conversation that I don’t want to have in the car, so I keep silent until we pull into the garage at Quinn’s building. After I park the car and turn the engine off, I turn to face her.

There are tears running down her cheeks as I turn her face towards me. With my thumbs, I wipe her tears off, then wait for her to look me in the eyes. When she does, the hurt in her eyes makes my heart constrict.

“Does he not want us to live with him? Is that why you keep saying no? Will he leave like Kyle did?”

That is a heavy blow she just delivered there. Grace thinks Quinn doesn’t want her like just like Kyle. She thinks because we are not living together as the family that she wants us to be is because Quinn doesn’t want us.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and talk.”

Grace sniffles, then grabs her bag off the floorboard. After grabbing my things, I get out of the car with her. By the time we get to the apartment door, her eyes are red from her crying. When I unlock the door, she rushes inside, then straight up to her room.

This talk is going well already. After dropping my purse and briefcase off next to the hall table, I slip out of my heels, then head up to have this long overdue conversation. Grace is sitting on the edge of her bed when I walk in. The fact that her door is open shows she

wants to hear what I have to say.

I grab the chair next to her bed and pull it to the end of the bed. I sit in it so that I am facing her while I talk. After taking a deep breath, I gently tell her about truth about Kyle. The man who never wanted to be her father but faked it to get me to marry him.

“Gracie, there have been things that have happened in our lives, adult things, that I have done my absolute best to shield you from. Now I

can see that in my attempt to hide what was happening in our house, I have hurt you.”

She raises her head to look at me. The tears running down her cheeks makes me angry at myself. I thought it was better that she didn’t know what Kyle was like. I kept telling myself that she was too young to know about the domestic violence happening right under her

nose.

“Kyle abused me. He hurt me with more than his words. Sometimes it was his hands or fists. I made him leave after he hurt me so badly that I had to go to the hospital. You stayed with grandma and grandpa that night.”

Anger quickly replaced the shock in Grace’s eyes. “Why did you let him stay for so long? He hurt you. Why did you let him stay?”

Those are questions I asked myself all the time after I finally had enough. Why did I let him stay even though he hurt me? I didn’t love him anymore, and he never loved Grace. Why did I ever marry that man

“I don’t know, baby. There is one thing I know, and I think you know it too. Quinn is nothing like Kyle. He has loved you since the day I told him about you. He has done everything in his power to show you that. I robbed you of time with him by not looking for him as you got older. That is on me.”

“Then why can’t we all live together?”

“We can if you want to,” Quinn says from behind me.

Just like that, there he is.