Page 82 of Digging Up Love
The stark truth of her father’s cowardice gave their relationship an expiration date. Saved her the pain of an inevitable future breakup. But Quentin spoke up before she could drag herself away. “Your dad is an asshole.”
Running her fingers through the fibers of the shag carpet, Alisha shrugged.
“Seriously, Alisha.” He scooted closer and rested a hand on her knee. “Anyone who’d walk out on his family, on his own daughters, who’d lost their mother? I’ve never beat anyone up, never thrown apunch and meant it. But if I ever meet your father, I’ll gladly knock him out flat.”
Alisha rubbed a finger along the erratic pulse at her wrist. His anger was the opposite of most people’s unwanted pity. But perversely, she found herself rising to her dad’s defense. “He was hurting. He lost his wife. The love of his life.”
Squaring his body to hers, Quentin rubbed the pads of his thumbs along the front of her shoulders. The heat in his palms seared its way to her heart, cauterizing the pain.
“Which would give him all the more reason to keep the two people he loved most in life close.”
She opened her mouth, but Quentin wasn’t finished.
“He failed you, Alisha. He’s a total, one hundred percent loser. And not only that: he lost out on a relationship with one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. It’s completely despicable.”
Her face crumpled again. He wasn’t wrong. In fact, he was 100 percent right. Which was why she had to keep her distance. Because her dad was a leaver. Soshewas a leaver. A loser, like Quentin said. Only a matter of time.
Seeing her face, he squeezed her tight against his solid chest, the steady beat of his heart slowing hers. They sat that way for a long time, until she became less aware of her pain than of his presence.
A deep voice shouted from the living room. “Q, what’re you doing back there? I need your help with these stupid controllers!”
Alisha cocked an eyebrow at him. “Q?”
A corner of his lip turned up, and he pulled one shoulder to his ear. “That’s what my family’s always called me.”
“Suits you,” she said, voice scratchy. She cleared her throat, pressing the heel of her hand to her damp cheek. “Best get out there before they come looking.”
“Nah, they can wait.” Quentin stroked his thumb gently along her chin. “This is more important.”
“No, I’m fine.” She sniffed, unbearably, and gave him a close-lipped smile. “You go. I’ll be right there.”
“You sure?”
At her nod, he tipped up her chin and kissed one of the tear tracks on her cheek, whisper soft, then stood and walked out.
Alisha lingered, picking up the puzzle pieces and setting them in the cardboard box. She’d just crumbled to bits in front of a man, something she’d never once done in all of her twenty-nine years. And he’d been able to handle it, hadn’t shied away. Her world shifted into focus, somehow intact, and flooded with light. The realization Quentin was behind the new perspective shook her to the core.
Before she could overthink the effect his response had had on her, she unfolded herself from the floor and walked out to the small front room, where Quentin and his brother were messing around with a TV housed in a sturdy oak entertainment center. The twins jumped around, controllers raised above their heads. Reggie sat in a corner of the tan sectional. He squinted at one of the video game cases under the benevolent gaze of Our Lady of Guadalupe, a ceramic dish of rosaries at her feet. The women were nowhere in sight, so Alisha peeked into the kitchen.
Isabel stood at the stove, one hand on her plump hip, a metal spatula in the other. She gestured with it as she spoke to Quentin’s sister-in-law, a tiny woman with a huge smile, her hair cropped short at the sides, shiny coils longer at the top, styled with a deep side part. Vanessa was cutting open a bag of powdered sugar with kitchen shears. Her smile grew impossibly wider when Alisha walked in.
“I see my girls didn’t destroy you yet.”
Alisha laughed. “Nope, still in one piece.”
Vanessa chuckled. “Thanks for playing with them. My sisters all live in Baltimore, so the girls soak up any female attention they can get.”
“Oh, I had fun! I don’t have any nieces or nephews, so it was a nice change of pace.”
Pencil-thin eyebrows arched, Isabel regarded Alisha over her shoulder. “No brothers or sisters?”
“I do have a sister, actually. She lives in the city. Logan Square. But she’s not looking to settle down anytime soon. She’s only twenty-four.”
With a sniff, Isabel turned back to the stove. “What about you?”
“Me?” Alisha’s voice squeaked out.
Steam curling her bangs, Isabel turned her way again. “Any plans to settle down soon?”
