Page 124 of Delayed Penalty

“You didn’t need to.” I point to the back of the store where I know he keeps the cookies. “She’s back there, isn’t she?”

He shrugs. “Depends on if you’re about to go break her heart some more or not.”

I sigh. “I’m not, George. I didn’t mean to hurt it in the first place. I’m just stupid.”

“You got that right.” He lifts his chin toward the back. “She’s back there all right. Probably eating all my damn cookies too.”

“I am not!”

Quinn.

“Flora, stay up here, okay? I want to talk to Quinn alone.”

She nods. “Don’t forget to use your words.”

Trust me, kid. I won’t forget this time.

I turn toward the back, making my way past the baking supplies and toilet paper—why they’re together in one aisle, I don’t know—and breathe a sigh of relief when I round the corner and see her. She’s sitting beside the cookie display, her back pressed against the wall as she takes a bite of butterscotch cookie. I smile at her, but she doesn’t return it.

Fuck. This might be harder than I thought.

I settle down in the spot next to her, stretching my legs out with a sigh. I did not at all anticipate my night going this way. I was planning to cuss a few times while putting up the tree, maybe complain as Quinn inevitably made us listen to Christmas music, and then I was going to ask her to move in, and she’d say yes. We’d put Flora to bed, then make love right under the tree.

That’show it should have been. Not me sitting on the floor of some dingy, outdated grocery store because I didn’t do the one thing I’ve lectured her about over and over.

Use your words.

“I remember the first time I saw you in this store when you were trying to kidnap Flora.”

Quinn huffs. “I was not trying to kidnap her. I was trying to help her becauseyouwere kidnapping her.”

“I wasn’t.”

She rolls her eyes, taking another bite of the cookie. “Well, obviously.”

“But that wasn’t the first time we met. You remember that, right?”

“You were an asshole about coffee.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I was an asshole about coffee.” I shake my head. “But that’s not therealreason I was an asshole.”

She stops chewing, then swallows. “It’s not?”

“Nope. I was an asshole because I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen even though you were wearing earrings shaped like baby goats in pajamas and they were the ugliest thing ever.”

“They arenotugly! That’s one of my favorite pairs!”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because I have good taste, and you know it.” Her lips twitch. “So, you thought I was beautiful, huh?”

I nod. “I did. And it pissed me off so bad because I knew if I wasn’t dealing with all the shit with Flora, I would ask you out and you would say yes, and the rest would be history.”

“Wow. Confident we were a sure thing, huh?”

“Yep. Still am too.”

I reach for a cookie, and to my surprise, she lets me have one. I take a bite, chew, and swallow. This is the routine for the next minute.

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