Page 17 of Just Let Go

“Fine by me,” Dad said. “But he is helping at the Winter Carnival, which means he might end up moving some things around for your display. Can you at least handle that?”

She sighed.

“He’s just one guy, Quinn.”

She shook her head. “It’s not him, Dad.” An admission her father had probably been waiting for. Quinn had a knack for getting upset about one thing when what really bothered her was something else entirely.

He looked at her like he’d already guessed as much. “Then what is it?”

Should she explain how important her design for the Winter Carnival was? How it was the ticket to the Floral Expo and...her?

She looked up at her father, with his deep-set wrinkles and ruddyskin. Strong as he was, it would hurt him to know how much she still pined for the parent who walked away.

“I have to stay focused, Dad. This guy is a huge distraction, and I can’t deal with that right now.”

It was a non-answer, and they both knew it. It said,I’m not willing to confide in you.There was unmistakable hurt behind her father’s eyes.

“That’s fine, Q,” he said. “But I didn’t raise you to be rude.”

She’d behaved badly. She’d been unwelcoming, and that embarrassed her father. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

He looked away, but he had something else to say, she could tell.

“What is it?”

“About this contest, Q.” He picked up one of her hands. “You’re putting an awful lot of pressure on yourself.”

“This is what I’ve been working toward, Dad. This is my dream.”

“I know, I know.” He squeezed her hand. “I just don’t want you to hang too many hopes on this festival or this expo or this prize.”

“You don’t think I can win?”

“No, I know you can win.” He met her eyes. “I just don’t know that it’ll change anything.” He paused. He knew she wanted to win—but did he know why? For a moment, it almost seemed like he did, though she’d never discussed it with him.

Quinn pressed her lips together and swallowed, working hard to maintain her resolve. He was wrong. This was her only chance—it had to work.

It had to.

Her father walked away, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen inhaling the pungent aroma of garlic and tomato sauce and trying desperately not to entertain the one question that kept racing through her mind: If itdidn’twork... what was she going to do?

CHAPTER

5

ONCE AGAINGrady was sitting at a table and feeling like he shouldn’t be here. When the sheriff invited him to dinner, of course his first thought wasNo. Way.But then Gus mentioned that the judge would be there, and Grady hoped he might be able to reason with the man—maybe he’d be more lenient outside the courtroom.

So far, though, Grady had simply endured long, rambling stories of fishing expeditions and high school pranks, as if his presence gave the men a chance to relive their glory days.

And then there was the matter of the ice radiating off of the woman sitting in the chair next to him. Quinn Collins had already made up her mind about him, and whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t good.

She’d probably seen the footage of his wipeout at last week’s race, followed by his subsequent fight with Brian Murphy, his longtime coach and now one of the coaches of the US ski team. Not his finest hour.

He had to figure out a way to get to Colorado—even if the coach and his former teammates had made it very clear they’d rather he just retire.

He needed the sponsorships. Needed the distraction. Needed the gold. He owed it to Benji.

After they’d finished eating, Beverly, a short woman with a round face and dark hair who he assumed was Quinn’s mother even though the two looked nothing alike, stood. “I’ll clear away the dishes and be right back with the cake.”

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