All It Takes Page 9
She frowns at me.
“That’s what I said.”
“No, you called me Finn. Mom, this confusion is getting worse, and I think you should see your doctor about it. Monday.”
“I have an appointment on Monday,” she says with a sigh. “I’ll tell him about it.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, because you make a big deal out of nothing at all, and I’m a grown woman. I can go to the doctor without a chaperone.”
“This is serious, Mom. Gabby was crying because you scared her. And you’re scaring me.”
She cups my cheek. “Oh, my sweet boy. You don’t need to worry so much. I’ll be just fine. Now, I’ll write it down that I need to talk to the doctor about this at my appointment on Thursday.”
“Monday,” I correct her, and she nods.
“That’s right, Monday.”
“I’ll try to get some time off on Monday so I can take Mom to the doctor. I don’t trust that she’ll remember to talk to him about this, and it’s clearly getting much worse.”
“I’m so sorry, Quinn.” Sienna links her fingers through mine, and I immediately feel calmer. “Watching those we love age is hard. My dad had a heart attack two years ago, and I was a mess with worry.”
“It’s tough,” I agree. “And it seems to be snowballing with her. A year ago, she was fit as a fiddle, and now her blood pressure is through the roof, her joints ache, and she can’t remember who anyone is.”
“There has to be an explanation,” she says reasonably. “I hope the doctor has some answers for you.”
“Me too. Now that we’ve lost most of the afternoon, and we made headway with finding that receipt today, let’s play hooky. I’ll take you out to dinner.”
“We could get dinner to go and eat while we work,” she suggests.
“No.” I kiss the back of her hand. “No, I want to be with you this evening, just the two of us, without work or family obligations.”
She takes a minute to answer, but finally says, “So, as fun as that sounds, I can’t. I’m sorry, I have plans with Louise tonight.”
I frown, disappointment hot and swift in my belly.
“Plans can be changed.”
She looks over at me, then shakes her head.
“Sorry. I’ve had these plans with her for a couple of weeks. We’re having dinner at my place, and drinking wine.”
And I’ve just found a new level of respect for Sienna. She’s not the kind of girl to drop everything in her life for a man.
I may not like the idea of not spending time with her tonight, but I respect her immensely.
“But I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says with a smile.
“Tomorrow it is.”
Chapter Nine
~Sienna~
“You’re late,” I call out when I hear the front door open and close. My back is to Lou while I get the pizza ready for the oven.
“Girl, I got here as fast as I could.”
I pause at the voice, then spin and run into strong, outstretched arms. Rich rocks me back and forth, then plants a kiss square on my cheek.
“Oh my God, Lou didn’t say you were in town.”
“It’s a surprise,” Lou says with a happy smile. She sets two bottles of wine on the island, then opens the oven to get a look at the pizza. “I hope you have more food than this.”
“Of course I do.” I pass the corkscrew and wine to Rich. “Will you do the honors?”
“Happily.”
Rich and Louise have been best friends since they were kids. He came out to Lou first when they were fourteen, and he’s been there for her through failed relationships, job changes, you name it.
They’re as tight as it gets.
And because of that, Rich was at our house all the time while we were growing up.
“How’s Boston?” I ask him and pull out the fixings for another pizza.
“I like it,” he says with a nod. His dark hair is long enough to fall in his eyes as he opens the second bottle of wine. “My job is excellent.”
“Have you met anyone interesting?”
He smiles slyly. “Honey, I always meet interesting people.”
“Interesting enough to see them naked?” Lou asks with a wink.
“Not many of those,” Rich replies with a sigh. “LouLou and I always have bad luck when it comes to men.”
“You can say that again,” Lou says, raising her glass in a toast.
“You just waste your time on the wrong people,” I reply as I check the first pizza, then sip my glass of red. “Seriously, if he asks for your credit card number on the second date, it’s time to move on.”
“Easy for you to say, Counselor,” Rich says.
“Just because I’m a lawyer doesn’t mean it’s easy to meet men. In fact, I date less than anyone else I know.”
“Well, until recently.” Louise smiles innocently as Rich’s jaw drops and he covers his heart with a hand.
“You’re holding out on me. Now, let’s sit and you can tell me everything. Starting with, is he hot naked?”
I look at Lou, who just raises a brow and sips more wine.
“You don’t know that I’ve seen him naked.”
They look at each other and say in unison, “She’s seen him naked.”
“We are not talking about me,” I remind them and pull the first pizza out of the oven, then slip the other one inside. I keep my eyes on the cheesy goodness as I run the cutter over it. “We’re talking about you.”
“Not anymore,” Louise says. “Our love lives are boring. Catch Rich up. Unless you want me to.”
“You do it,” Rich says. “She leaves out the good parts.”
I roll my eyes and pull down plates.
“So this hot lawyer showed up at our grandfather’s will reading.” Lou continues with the story, up to last night when we went to the show.
She doesn’t know anything past that because I haven’t had a chance to see her.
“So, let me get this straight. He’s a hot, rich attorney, and his brother’s girlfriend is London Watson.”
“Fiancée now,” I reply with a smile. “They got engaged today.”
“Of course,” Rich says with a nod. “What happened after the show?”
I smile slowly, and both Lou and Rich start to clap and woot in excitement.
“You banged the hot lawyer!” Louise exclaims.
“His name is Quinn,” I reply and take another sip of wine, then fill my glass again. “And yes, I totally banged him. A few times.”
“Holy shit,” she says with a sigh. “That’s awesome.”
“There’s more.”
I tell them about breaking my heel, and needing new shoes. The Louboutins. Dinner. His condo with my painting hanging in it.
“Fucking hell, I’m in love with him,” Rich says, fanning his face as he chews his pizza. “Seriously, if you don’t claim him, I’ll take him.”
“I don’t think he bats for your team,” I reply with a laugh. “And no one said anything about love. But he is sexy, and he’s really . . . swoony.”
“I like that word,” Lou says with a happy sigh. “And if he ever starts to be not swoony, I’m gonna kick him in the balls.”
“That seems extreme.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “I’m serious. You’re the nicest person in the universe.”
“That’s totally not true,” I reply.
We’ve moved into the living room, with pizza and wine, and for the next hour, we giggle and drink, just like the old days.
It’s not long before I realize that I can see two of each of them.
“This wine is potent.”
“Damn right,” Lou says. “I have more in the car. Hold, please.”
She jumps up and runs out the door before I can say anything. We hear a door slam, and then she’s back, carrying two more bottles.
“Jesus, I’m already drunk, Lou.”
“Good, we’re well on our way to shitfaced.”r />
“Is that the goal?” I ask.
“Of course it is,” Rich says and opens another bottle. “Now, we’ve talked about jobs and boys, let’s talk about boys.”
We snort laugh, and I watch as he fills my glass again.
“I don’t have anything else to say. But I kind of miss him. Maybe I should text him.”
“Don’t be that girl,” Lou says while shaking her head. “Don’t say I love you in a text.”
“That’s definitely not what I was going to say,” I reply. “I know, I’ll take a selfie and send him that.”
I open his last text, and then the little camera icon. I hit the circle, but instead of taking a photo, it starts ringing.
“Shit, I’m facetiming him.”
“Even better,” Rich says as Quinn picks up.
“Hey,” he says with a smile.
“Sorry, this isn’t what I meant to do.”
I hang up on him, and try again for a photo, but it just calls him again.
“Are you okay?” he asks when he picks up.
“Oh, I’m fine, I just think my phone is against me. I’m trying to send you a photo. Not a naked one.”
“How many glasses of wine have you had?”
“I dunno.” I look down at him and grin. “You’re so handsome. What are you wearing?”
A smile slides over his lips, and I wish he was here. I want to kiss him.
“I’m just in my usual.”
“I want to see his usual,” Rich whispers to Lou, and I shush him.
Quinn pans down so I can see his cargo shorts and his T-shirt.
Yum.
“We should make pancakes,” Lou says, getting my attention, and my focus immediately shifts.
“Pancakes! Sorry, Quinn, I gotta go.”
I hang up on him, and toss my phone away, immediately craving soft, fluffy pancakes.
“I should stop drinking,” I announce and stand, holding my hands out to get my balance. “And eat pancakes because they’ll soak up the drunk.”
“Do you have the stuff?” Lou asks, joining me in the kitchen.
“Of course. Hold on.” I open the pantry and pull out my electric skillet and a box of pancake mix, and get to work. “This is gonna be awesome.”
“I’m still going to drink,” Rich says, pouring himself more wine. “Because I’m not a quitter.”
Louise and I blow raspberries as we giggle at Rich’s joke.
“Good one.”
It takes about an hour to make the pancakes because we keep messing up. They’re too burnt, they’re not cooked enough. They fall apart because I forgot eggs.
It’s a mess and a riot, all at the same time.
Finally, I’m not as fuzzy as I was, and I’m able to pull off six perfect pancakes.
“So good,” I mumble around a mouthful of maple goodness.
“The best,” Lou agrees.
My doorbell rings, and I frown as I hurry across the living room and swing the door open.
“Quinn.”
He’s grinning, standing there in his cargo shorts and T-shirt, and I instinctively lick my lips.
Because he’s damn hot.
“I thought I wasn’t going to see you until tomorrow.”
He checks his watch. “It’s 12:22. It is tomorrow.”
I take his hand and pull him into my house. “So it is. Good thinking. I’m warning you, I’ve been drinking, and although I’ve sobered up a little thanks to the pancakes, we’re silly.”
“I can live with silly.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, and all my lady parts sit up and take notice.
Every. Single. Lady. Part.
“Is this him?” Rich asks, and Quinn’s grip on my hand tightens. “Because hello, Counselor.”
I giggle and then shrug helplessly. “Rich might flirt with you. I apologize in advance.”
His whole body seems to relax with my words, and then he just shakes his head and chuckles, holding his hand out to Rich.
“I’m Quinn.”
“And I’m single,” Rich says with a wink, making Lou and me laugh, and Quinn’s cheeks go red. “But I can see that you’re taken. Pity. I’m Rich, LouLou’s fabulous best friend.”
“Nice to meet you.” Quinn glances down at me. “Did you mention pancakes?”
“Yeah, do you want some?”
“Definitely.”
What does a girl do when she has a hangover the size of Manhattan and can’t sleep?
Well, this girl paints.
It’s superearly in the morning, before sunrise. Quinn was out cold next to me, his arm slung over my waist. Lou and Rich were asleep on the pullout couch. Everyone was full of pancakes, wine, and happiness.
My insomnia isn’t from stress, or worry. I’m not uncomfortable with Quinn being in my bed. If anything, I’m more comfortable than I thought I would be.
I just couldn’t sleep.
So I slipped into my studio about an hour ago, shut the door, and turned on the lights, and I’ve been powering through this headache with my watercolors.
I should work on the park painting, but I’m not in the mood for the harshness of the oils. That’s for when I’m upset.
So instead I pulled out a new canvas, and I’m working from memory. I love painting ocean scenes. They’re harder than you’d think, and they’re different every time.
Today I’m painting Cannon Beach on the Oregon coast. We went there when I was a teenager for a family vacation, and I fell in love with it. I’m convinced that I’ll retire there one day.
I have the sand and Haystack Rock outlined, and I’ve just reached for the blues for the water when there’s a soft knock, and then Quinn comes inside.
“Why are you awake?” he whispers, crossing to me and planting his lips on my forehead.
“Good question,” I reply. “I don’t know, I just couldn’t fall asleep. So I thought this might make me sleepy.”
“Do you mind if I watch?”
His eyes are heavy with slumber, his hair a mess from my pillows.
“I’ll come back to bed with you,” I offer.
“It’s up to you. If you want to paint, I’ll watch. Or leave you. I just woke up and you were gone, so I wanted to check on you. Make sure you weren’t throwing up or anything.”
“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t think that’s something I want you to witness. Ever. I do have a hell of a headache, but otherwise, I’m okay.”
“Not tired?”
“I’m tired, but restless. That’s the best way to describe it. I was in the mood for watercolors.”
I explain the differences for me in the mediums, and when I glance over at him, his lips are turned up in a soft smile. His brown eyes are happy.
And aside from the boxers he threw on, he’s naked. And I’m suddenly no longer interested in painting.
“We should go down to bed,” I say, putting my supplies away, and reaching for his hand. “Honest, now that you’re awake, I can think of a better way to occupy our time at this hour.”
“I won’t say no to that.”
Someone is jackhammering my brain.
“You have to wake up, sweetness.”
“Why are you screaming at me?” I demand from under my pillow.
Quinn chuckles, and I can smell coffee, so I peek out from under the pillow to find not just the room bathed in sunlight, but a smiling Quinn Cavanaugh as well.
“Good morning,” he says.
“How is my hangover worse than it was when you found me in my studio? Isn’t sex supposed to cure it?”
“Sex cures a lot of things,” he says as he pulls the pillow completely off me, making me frown. “But you need to hydrate to get rid of the headache.”
“Do you have coffee?” There’s no masking the hope in my voice.
“I brought you some,” he confirms, and I sit up, reaching out for it, but he holds it just beyond my fingertips. “In exchange for a kiss.”
“I can’t do cute flirting in the morning
when I’m hungover and haven’t had coffee, ace.”
“Did you just call me ace?”
“It suits you,” I reply, taking the coffee from him and a long sip. The caffeine immediately hits my veins and I sigh in happiness. “That’s better already.”
“You slept a long time.”
“What time is it?”
“Ten.”
I feel my eyes go wide. “Ten?”
“You obviously needed the sleep.”
I shake my head and climb out of the bed, trying to keep my coffee in my hand and cover my nakedness, but it’s no use. I need more hands.
So I let the covers fall and take a sip of coffee.
There’s no prying this out of my hands.
“Jesus,” Quinn whispers and leans in to tug a nipple between his lips. I feel the zing through my belly to my clit, and I have to steady myself on his shoulder.
“No time for this,” I mutter, but I don’t move away when he tugs it in his mouth for a second time.
“You shouldn’t walk around naked if you don’t want my hands on you,” he says.
“Those are lips, not hands.”
“Semantics,” he replies, but pulls away and doesn’t try to entice me back into the bed as I pull on some clothes and pull my hair into its usual knot.
“Are Rich and Lou still here?”
“Yeah, Lou was making more pancakes.”
I cringe. “God, I don’t know if I can ever have pancakes again. And that’s sad because I love pancakes.”
I cross to Quinn, who’s still sitting at the edge of my bed, and pull him in for a big hug. “Thanks for staying with me last night, and for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I guess we should go upstairs.”
“Lead the way,” he replies.
Rich and Louise are indeed in my kitchen, eating pancakes and showing each other photos on their phones.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Rich says with a smile.
“Why do you look like that?” Louise demands.
“Like what? I’m hungover, how am I supposed to look?” I inspect both of them and then scowl. “Why aren’t you guys hungover?”
“We never get hungover,” Rich says with a shrug.
“You should drink a bunch of water,” Lou says with a sage nod. “That’ll help a lot.”
All I can do is flip her the bird, feeling not a little betrayed that neither of them feel like shit, especially when the sexy man I’m interested in is standing right beside me.