Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

“Naughty boy. I’ve got plans for you later.”

“Good.” Quinn chuckled happily. “And I like dogs. I wasn’t allowed one growing up, so I’ve got no clue how to take care of one though.”

“I trust you to figure it out.” Knowing Quinn, there would be weeks of Internet research and textbooks on the dining table. I couldn’t wait. “Bet we could manage it together.”

“Together.” His voice was so tender my heart legit fluttered, but before I could get all sappy on him, I needed to take the turn into a little collection of houses at the edge of town. We were right near one of the state parks, walking distance to a popular trailhead. One more turn took us into the drive for a small cottage, same classic brown siding a lot of midcentury places around the area had.

“This the place?” Quinn asked, gaze sweeping around the property. “There’s no for sale sign.”

“It’s not on the market yet. Mom and her network. Someone told Ed, who told her, who told me.”

“Ed seems to be working out,” he said carefully. Ed was Mom’s new handyperson, someone she’d hired after Darren found good work with a logger friend of Curtis’s. A recent retiree from a long career in commercial construction, Ed had been looking for something part-time and certainly seemed to find Mom’s endless to-do lists fun.

“Yeah, she’s happy.” I was trying to not have feelings about how easily I’d been replaced or about how flirty they seemed with each other. She deserved to be happy, and I certainly was benefiting from the increased flexibility in my schedule. “I told her not to date an employee. Ten bucks she caves by New Year.”

“I bet you’re right.” Shaking his head, Quinn chuckled, then returned to looking around, turning his head to see better out the window. “This place sure is pretty.”

“It needs a fair bit of work,” I warned. It was also smaller than most beach houses, with only a single bedroom and bonus loft area, which meant less competition from investors looking to flip a rental.

“Might be worth it though.” He licked his lower lip. “It’s got potential.”

“That it does.” I stared right at him until he met my gaze. He was the one with potential, the one who would always be worth any amount of work. “It’s not occupied. Let’s look in the windows.”

I wanted to watch him marvel a little more, see if he got the same feeling I’d had looking at pictures. The little fire pit area out back reminded me of our favorite camping spot and the hint of lake view added to the feeling of a private retreat.

“Oh. That is nice.” Quinn peered in the front window, taking in the cozy front room, dominated by a stone fireplace that made up for an uneven paint job and a downright scary kitchen beyond it. “Love that fireplace. You’re not mounting anything above it.”

“I’m not?” I wrapped him up in a hug from behind, pulling him tight against me. “You gonna be here to tell me what goes where and save me from awful decorating choices?”

“Maybe.” Tipping his head back, he grinned up at me, eyes shining behind his glasses. “It could use some paint. I’m good at that.”

“You are.” In addition to painting his bedroom, he’d helped me some with the rental and joined Darren and me on another project. He fit in seamlessly with the family, that was for sure, and there were times when I wasn’t sure my heart could hold all my joy. “Think I should ask about seeing the inside soon?”

“It does have a yard.” His tone was all thoughtful as he spun in my grasp to loop his arms around my neck.

“Quinn?” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Those words got easier every time I said them, heart still hammering but a little less terror in my veins, replaced by a deeper certainty. “I don’t want living together to be a temporary thing.”

“Me either. I like the idea of something together. Something we could work on in our vast amounts of spare time.” His laugh was warm and hope sparkled across his expression. Yeah, he liked the place, exactly as I’d hoped.

“We’ll find some extra time.” My voice was all fuzzy, much like my vision, which briefly blurred with how damn much I wanted this, wanted to build something with him. Together.

“We will.” He brushed a kiss across my mouth. “Ask the seller more about the property. I think it might be the one.”

And I thought Quinn was the one. Actually, thought was the wrong word. I knew. He was the one. The one I wanted to debate paint colors and furniture with, the one I wanted a life with, the one I wanted forever with. And as we kissed again, I let myself believe we’d get it.