Her All Along

Her hair had grown a lot too, and she had these adorable curls that bounced when she ran.

I squatted down just in time to catch her, and I picked her up and smooched her cheek. “Did you have a good day with Charlotte and Annie?”

“Nee-nee!” she laughed.

“Okay, good talk,” I chuckled.

After getting a daily report from Charlotte while I wrestled Grace into her coveralls, we wished each other a good weekend, and I carried Grace out to the car. My plan involved tiring her out with a visit to the toy store—once Darius had shared his news—because I needed Grace to fall asleep early tonight. I had so many tests to grade this weekend that I’d asked Mary to babysit tomorrow, which I tried not to subject her to now that Grace had taken up screaming and sobbing her eyes out as a hobby during our evening routine. Mary was already watching her twice a week when I was at the gym.

Ten minutes later, I parked at the marina and helped Grace out of her seat. The boardwalk was abandoned at this time of year, and the small dinner rush hadn’t started yet. Once we were away from the parking lot, I let her walk on her own and spotted Ethan and Lias outside our old bar that had closed after the summer.

“Unka, unka, unka!” Grace yelled.

She’d seen the two Quinns too.

One day, I was going to have to teach her that all Quinns weren’t named Unka. Mary was Nana, Elise was Lee, Willow was Low, and the rest were Unka, even James.

Ethan liked to think he was a hard-ass who didn’t care for kids, but he was sweet with Grace. “Hey, kiddo.” He squatted down and waited for her to reach him. “Look at you, running so fast.”

I checked my phone to see if Darius had texted—or Pipsqueak, for that matter. But nothing.

Fuck, how I missed her.

The only way to get through was to distract myself and push her out of my mind. But to myself, I could admit that it fucking sucked not to speak to her every day. Or anywhere close to it. We were going on three weeks now without a call, and she wasn’t coming home for Thanksgiving. I also knew she’d applied for a position at a famous chocolatier for the holidays, so if she got that job, I wouldn’t see her for Christmas either.

I was officially jealous of my own daughter, who got to Skype with Pipsqueak twice a week when Mary watched Grace.

To my surprise, the door to the bar opened, and Darius poked his head out. “What’re y’all standin’ out here for?”

“What the hell?” Lias frowned.

“You bought the bar?” I blurted out.

“Unka, unka!” Grace clapped.

Darius grinned at her. “You’re damn fucking right, I did. Come on in.”

Holy hell, this had to mean he’d finally quit his old job.

I picked up Grace on the way in, not too surprised to see the interior of the place torn down to its foundation.

Then Darius proceeded to make our day by announcing he was opening a seafood restaurant here in the spring. He’d retired from his career as a private military contractor; he was out of the game. He’d never risk his life again. He had a ten-year plan.

“Congratulations, my friend.” I shook his hand firmly and let Grace down again. But I held on to her hand for fear she’d drop to her knees and lick the floor or something.

It happened.

“Yeah, congrats, big brother.” Lias quirked a brow at the place and rubbed the back of his neck. “You hate people, though. And you’ve never worked in a restaurant before.”

I smirked.

“Thank fuck you said it so I didn’t have to.” Ethan sighed with relief. “At least it made sense for Ry to open a bar. He’s social.”

“You shits have zero faith in me,” Darius scoffed. “I don’t see people. I see paying customers, and I sure as hell won’t be cooking the food.” He paused. “A restaurant is a perfect place to build a network. As a bartender, I’ll always have an ear to the ground, and as the owner, I’ll form partnerships with local fishing crews and food vendors. That’s worth more than gold. And in a location like this?” He whistled. “A good summer on this boardwalk can secure the following year financially.”

He wasn’t wrong on that last point.

He probably wasn’t wrong on the other points either, but I didn’t have a hard-on for the end of the world like he did.

“You’ll do great,” I said, peering down at Grace. “Baby—why—no.” Jesus Christ. I picked her up again, and I brushed away the handful of dust she’d managed to swipe off the floor. “Why? Just why? Don’t I feed you enough?”

“Dada, mow-ta-unka!” she replied seriously.

I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but the Quinn brothers found her hilarious.