Page 59 of The One for Forever

Even the thought of that makes me uncomfortable. I never looked at her that way until recently, and if she’d made any sort of advance, I would’ve kindly but emphatically turned her down.

I’m flattered, of course. But the scary thought is that some menwouldn’thave turned her down. I certainly hope Quinn didn’t mess around with any such creeps. Yeah, she was eighteen and a legal adult then, but honor and morality have to mean something too. If I find out some asshole took advantage of her, no matter how long ago, I’ll hunt him down. I don’t care who he is or where he is.

Then my anger falters as I remember how Quinn was avoiding me earlier this year. She stopped coming to weekenddinners with me and Cliff. Moved out of the Pink House, where I chatted with her whenever I saw her.

Was that because it hurt her to seeme?

Shit, I hate that. Had she felt unwanted or sad because my thick skull failed to notice what an incredible woman she’d become?

But I notice her now. The past led us to this point, where we are now, and we’re getting our chance.

Then a new source of anxiety occurs to me. She’s been waiting to be with me for ten years. What if she’s disappointed? What if we really try this, and Quinn decidesNah, didn’t live up to expectations. One star.

I can show her a good time in the bedroom. Not so much worried aboutthat.But my relationship skills are beyond rusty. I’ve been alone for so long. Gotten set in my ways. And I want so much more than a good time with Quinn. I want a future. Yet we haven’t discussed what that would look like.

I tug on my swim trunks and banish all that self-doubt from my head. I’m not usually the type to get neurotic about my every decision. True leaders assess a situation, make a choice, and follow through. In my thirty years as a soldier, Special Forces operator, bodyguard and volunteer, I’ve seen so much shit. So many people suffering. The only way to keep going is to believe there’s a silver lining. Some way to turn all the bad to good.

After I lost Lydia, I lost that faith for a while too, and it took me a long time to get it back again. Working on this house made a difference. Same with building my furniture. It’s symbolic. When I take something that others see as ruined and transform it into something useful, even beautiful, it’s like I’m restoring part of the world to where it should be.

But in all this time, I’ve never fully putmyselfback together. I’ve found peace. I’m no longer grieving. But that’s not the same.

I’ve been in the position where I’ve held the person I love in my arms and had to watch her slip away. Ineverwant to go through that again. Being able to actually aid in Quinn’s recovery has meant everything to me. I see the potential that we could have. I can’t focus on the obstacles. I’ve overcome plenty before.

This is my shot to be happy, truly happy, in a way I haven’t been since Lydia died. And to make Quinn happy too. I have to take it.

I don’t see Quinn in the kitchen or living room. She must still be getting changed. I head into the garage and pull out a couple of wetsuits in our sizes, plus two surfboards. Once I’ve transferred everything we need to the back patio, I go looking for her.

And nearly forget my name when I see her emerge from the bedroom.

She’s wearing a yellow string bikini. Between her golden hair, tanned skin, and those tiny triangles of fabric, she’s pure sunshine. Or perhaps lemon meringue pie. My mouth waters and my eyes rake over her. We each cross the distance until we’re standing close enough to touch.

I hum appreciatively. “You look good enough to eat.”

“So do you.” She openly admires my bare torso, running her hand from my Adam’s apple down the swell of my pecs.

“Not too much gray for you?”

“No. Are you kidding? It’s hot.” She presses a kiss above my heart, and my cock gives an eager twitch.

“Right. Because you like older guys.” I should rein in this jealousy, but it’s out in full force. “Any other older guys in your history I need to know about?” The thought of her with another man, especially one my age, makes my blood boil again. Even if she wasn’t a teenager at the time, I’m still not okay with it.She’s not for you, I tell this imaginary guy, right before my imaginary fist connects with his imaginary face.

Quinn is smiling and shaking her head. “I told you about my college boyfriend. He was a classmate. My few hookups have been my generation too. The only older guy I’ve ever wanted is you.”

I’m relieved to hear that, but then I make a face. “Please don’t say the wordgeneration. Makes me feel ancient.”

She laughs. “It’s true, though. You’re Gen X, right? I’m a millennial. I like how we’re different. Even though we have plenty in common too. I like everything about you.” She drags her nails across my chest hair. Then she turns her attention to the tattoo on my right bicep. “I’ve never been able to see your ink close up before. What is this?”

“The coat of arms for the Easton family.”

“Very hot.” Quinn pushes her bikini-covered breasts against me. “You’re so sexy it makes me crazy.”

I almost throw her over my shoulder and carry her to my bed. Myrealbed, the one she’s been sleeping in without me. But I squeeze the curve of her butt cheek instead and step back.

Worth the wait, I remind myself.

“Ever been surfing?” I ask.

“A couple of times. I wasn’t great at it. Will you teach me?” She says this seductively, and I have the feeling that Quinn could figure it out for herself. She can do anything she sets her mind to.

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