Page 50 of Hard Hitter

Seeing her smile at this made him continue, "I would, I don't know...I'd think other guys would see you wearing it and they'd just know like 'Oh that's Quinn's girl'."

Rae opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't seem to form the words. She ran her fingers through her hair as though she were nervous, but her smile said it all. "I guess you'll have to give me one of your new ones, then."

His chest felt so full with triumph and joy and outright exhilaration that shewantedto be his and shewantedpeople to know it. He'd been waiting for this moment, this feeling, for so long. He wanted to hold onto it and never let it go.

"I've got a few. You can have your pick," Quinn said, and he reached over to lay a possessive hand on Rae's leg. She rested her hand on top of his, brushing her thumb back and forth over his knuckles.

It had been about ten years since Quinn had been to the DeRoses’ massive French manor home, and when he pulled in, past the tall wrought-iron gate into the long driveway, his excitement turned anxious. Even though he now had his own mansion back in Los Angeles, it was obvious that his home and this one were from different types of money. Quinn’s sleek, angular, beach-front house with its floor-to-ceiling window-walls was an obvious show of new money, meant to impress and brag about his success. The DeRoses’ manor, however, with its stone accents, large pillared fence, perfectly landscaped stone walkway and massive arches spoke of money that had been there for generations.

All of the upstairs rooms had balconies and large windows, the steep roof gave away the high, vaulted ceilings. The front doors were tall, with a huge stone archway over the porch, and there were multiple elaborately decorated chimneys. Quinn remembered his first time here, covered in mud from playing baseball in the rain with Rae. He’dwondered why in the world someone would need more than one fireplace, and why-whywould a family of four need such an enormous house at all. On the left-hand side, there was a section that looked distinctly like a tower or a turret, which had given his eight-year-old self the impression that this was some type of castle, not just a house.

“Does it still look like a palace?” Rae’s light voice cut through the memory he was reliving as he stared back up at the impressive structure before them.

“Oh yeah,” he replied, gaze traveling to the front door. “What did they say when you told them I was coming?”

She looked briefly uncomfortable, like a little kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar as she scrunched her nose. “I thought maybe we’d just surprise them. It’s not like there won’t be enough food.”

Nodding, Quinn bit his lip and felt his pulse kick up a notch. No, he didn’t have to worry about her family being unprepared with food or accommodations. They’d always had maids, some that cooked, others that cleaned. Hell, they’d had chauffeurs to drive Rae and Camille to school or soccer practice when they were kids.

Accommodations were the least of his worries. It was just that the last time he’d been here he’d been a mess, begging to talk to Rae nearly every day for the entire summer after graduation. Mr. DeRose had done his best to get Rae to come down and talk to him, but she had refused until the very last week before he moved to Arizona for college.

“You have nothing to worry about, Quinn,” Rae said, taking his hand. “My parents love you. They’re going to be ecstatic to see you, I promise.”

Nodding again, Quinn let out a deep breath, “Let’s do this then.”

For the first time in years, Quinn stood in the foyer with its grand arches and vaulted ceilings. The decor had been modernized since he’d last stood here, but it still kept the feel of a grand French palace in his mind. Everything was white or cream colored, the vases and picture frames and mirrors were all ostentatious and ornamental.

There were three arched windows ahead in the living room that took up the entire wall, floor to ceiling, brightening the space withnatural light. Looking through the large windows, Quinn could see the patio that had been updated and redecorated, but still held the same grandeur as always.

Every intricate piece in the house had no doubt been perfectly placed by an interior designer and was kept immaculately clean by the crew of maids. Quinn wondered how many of the items, like the white grand piano, ever got any use, or if they were simply placed there to fill out the massive space. There were small touches of gold accents throughout the foyer, and the theme continued into the living room. He wondered if any of these accents were real gold. He knew there were similar-looking decorations in gold color that the average person could buy from the home decor section of any local store, but he wouldn’t put it past Margaux DeRose to insist on the real thing.

“Is that you, Rae?” A familiar voice Quinn recognized as her older sister, Camille, called from the other room.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Rae called back as she grabbed Quinn’s hand again and began pulling him toward the sound of voices and clinking dishes. Harry was leading the way, likely sniffing out his young niece and nephew. “I brought someone with me, too.”

Just around the corner from the kitchen now Quinn heard the bracing sigh of Rae’s father as he muttered, “Oh boy, here we go again.”

Stifling her laugh she continued around the corner into the large kitchen with Quinn at her side. “Family, this is my newboyfriend,” her eyes twinkled into his as she emphasized the word, making his heart flip and his stomach do a cartwheel. “I’d introduce you, but I don’t think that’s necessary.”

All eyes were suddenly on Quinn as everyone eagerly craned their necks or snapped around to see who the mystery guest was.

Anyone else’s reactions to seeing Quinn beneath the archway of the kitchen were immediately drowned out by the startling and excited cheer from Mr. DeRose.

“Yes!” Mr. DeRose pumped both fists in the air and looked as though he were about to praise Jesus. “Yes, finally!” He got up and rounded the kitchen island to embrace Quinn in a massive bear hug.

In the past ten years, Mr. DeRose had aged very well. He still had a full head of hair, which was now mostly gray, and instead of the mustache that he'd sported when Quinn was a kid and the clean-shaven look he'd remembered as a teenager, Mr. DeRose now had a short beard which suited him well.

Pulling back, he placed his hands on Quinn’s shoulders and looked at him very seriously as he said, “I have been waiting for this moment my entire life.”

“Dad, you haven’t even known him your entire life,” Rae managed through a fit of giggles. Quinn’s face was stuck in a stupid grin, not having expected this type of reception.

“I don’t care,” Mr. DeRose said and glanced briefly at his daughter. “Oh, and happy birthday, sweetie. Although you just gave me the best gift I could ask for.”

“Gee, Dad, thanks,” Camille drawled from behind her father. “I thought you were supposed to say Mom gave you the best gift ever by birthing your two amazing daughters.”

Mr. DeRose waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, that too, whatever.” He turned back to Quinn and his familiar eye-crinkling smile spread across his face. “It’s good to see you again. We’ve missed you around here.”

Quinn returned the friendly smile. “It’s good to see you again, too, Mr. DeRose.”

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