Page 16 of Just Let Go

She could use her sister’s company about now. At least then she’d have someone to commiserate with.

“We were just talking about you before you arrived, Grady.” Gus passed the serving bowl of spaghetti and meatballs to Quinn. “How you could help Quinn here as part of your community service.”

Grady handed off the salad to Judge and looked up. She couldn’t be sure, but he appeared to be about as surprised as she was. “Me?”

Quinn’s desire to groan had turned into a desire to scream. Herfather’s charity had gone too far! She didn’t want this guy in her flower shop.

“We weren’t serious, of course,” Gus said. “Though she could use all the help she can get.”

Quinn held the big bowl of pasta with both hands, trying to find a way to express herself without being rude to their guest before Judge actually considered this.

“Do you need help?” Grady was staring at her now, and while she couldn’t be sure, he almost looked... genuine.

“What?” She glanced down at the giant bowl. “No. I’m fine.” She set it on the table and scooped some spaghetti out, though she’d pretty much lost her appetite.

She didn’t want reporters camped outside her flower shop while she worked on the most important design of her life. She needed to stay focused. And she had a feeling Grady Benson came with a long list of distractions, not the least of which were his icy-blue eyes.

Quinn didn’t pick the bowl up to pass it to him, deciding instead to give it a little push in his direction when she was finished.

“Quinn, you hardly took any food.” Beverly sounded surprised. After all, Quinn was a healthy eater.

“Dad, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute?”

Her father’s eyebrows shot up, like they sometimes did when one of his little plans went awry. She could appreciate his heart, but even kidding about the shop renovations had her on edge.

Or maybe it was all she had riding on getting this right.

Once they were alone in the small cottage kitchen, Quinn closed the swinging door, reminding herself to stay calm so none of her anger was overheard by anyone in the next room.

“Dad. What are you doing?” she hissed.

He put on his best I’m-innocent-and-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about face.

“Don’t do that. Was this your plan all along—to figure out a way to get this guy sentenced tomyflower shop?”

“Quinn, I’m not even the one who brought the idea up,” he said.

She wasn’t buying it. “And you knew this wouldn’t be okay with me, which is why you waited until he was sitting at our table—” she whispered those last four words—“to tell me.”

“That’s not true. It was just an off-the-cuff idea. We can drop it.”

Quinn let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want him at the shop, Dad.”

“I understand,” her father paused. “Though you do need help. I work all day. Judge works all day. Calvin—God love him—doesn’t know the first thing about building repairs.”

“And what makes you think this guy does?”

Her dad shrugged. “Just a hunch.”

“Well, I disagree.”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “You seem stressed out. You might be overreacting a little.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled. Her exhale was slow and steady. Her dad was right. She probablywasoverreacting.

But for some reason, she just went right on doing so.

“Did you see what he did at Hazel’s? I was there. I definitely don’t needthatin my shop. He can help somewhere else.” She turned away from him.

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