“Of course you do. Normally I’d leave this meddling shit to my cousin, but since she’s out of town until the end of the week, I’m stepping in.”
He leaned against the counter. “It might help if you explained what the hell you’re talking about.”
Daniel huffed out a breath. “Forgive the fuck out of me if I’m not good at this matchmaking shit and going about it wrong.”
Matchmaking— Oh, hell no. “I don’t need you interfering.”
“Apparently that’s exactly what you need because it’s been three damn days and you’re showing no sign of coming to your senses. Aubry’s even more prideful than you are and you hurt her.” Daniel drained half his beer. “Look, this isn’t my thing and normally I’d just stay out of it, but if you actually told her you want to date her, letting a little thing like your family making you both insane isn’t a good enough reason to call the whole thing off.”
She’d talked to Daniel about them? He wasn’t sure what he thought about that. “What did she say?”
“That.” He pointed at Quinn. “That’s all I need to know. You like her, a whole hell of a lot, judging by the way you moped around today.”
“I don’t mope.” He might have moped.
“Not normally, no. Which is why I’m here.”
He stared at his friend. “What do you care if I’m fucking things up with Aubry?”
“Because, as I told her, this thing you have doesn’t come around all that often and throwing it away for a stupid reason is bullshit. Fight for her, you dickwad.”
Quinn blinked. He’d never seen Daniel so…fierce. “I didn’t think you knew Aubry that well.”
“I know her as well as I know anyone else in this town.”
Then why… The pieces clicked into place with a snap that left Quinn feeling like a damn fool. This wasn’t about Aubry at all. “She told you that Hope was at the wedding.”
The bleak look on Daniel’s face was all the answer he needed. He should have seen this coming. Call him crazy, though, but he never expected his friend to talk to his girl.
She’s not my girl. We both made damn sure of that.
“Daniel—”
He held up a hand. “I don’t need your sympathy or your pity. I just need you to get over yourself long enough to really think about if whatever you fought about is worth losing the connection you have with Aubry.” He finished off his beer. “If it is, then so be it. But if you have any doubts—any—then you need to fix this, Quinn. I’m not fucking kidding. You’ll kick yourself for the rest of your life if you don’t.”
“You could call her, you know.”
Daniel’s smile was more than a little bittersweet. “No, I can’t.” He walked out of the kitchen, patting Quinn on the shoulder as he went.
He wanted to call his friend back, to force him to talk about the shit that was obviously bothering him—and equally obviously had nothing to do with Quinn and Aubry—but Daniel had resisted opening up about either John or Hope for the last thirteen years. That wasn’t something that was going to magically change, him interfering in Quinn’s love life or no.
The problem was…he was right.
That fight had been awful—worse than awful. It seriously fucking sucked to have Aubry doubt him on so many different levels that she was willing to shit on everything they shared together, but what did he expect? She had a lifetime of feeling like she never quite measured up and five days with him wasn’t going to magically change that. He knew she was neurotic and jumped to conclusions and he’d still gone out of his way to punish her for the whole damn thing the second she dropped the ball. Could she have had a little more faith? Fuck yeah. But it took two to tango, and he’d more than dropped his end.
The thought of spending the rest of his life on the periphery of hers…
It stung. It more than stung. It flat out hurt.
He didn’t want to stand by and watch her settle down with some geeky guy. Marry him. Have little geeky babies with him.
Quinn wanted her to have geeky babies with him.
“Fuck.” He rubbed a hand over his face. It was time to face the facts, and the fact was he was hopelessly in love with that crazy redhead. “Damn it. I have to fix this.”
He just needed to figure out how.
Chapter Eighteen
Aubry looked at her phone for the fourth time, sure that she was in the wrong place. Earlier today, she’d finally dredged up the courage to text Quinn. Sure it’d been a Hey and not full of all the things she really needed to say, but it was something. An hour later he’d responded, but it wasn’t much of a response at all.
Quinn had texted her with an address and, despite her wanting to demand an explanation, she was letting go of her issues long enough to put on her big girl panties and meet him. That’s what people in love did, right? Crazy shit.
She just didn’t expect it to be this crazy.
“I think I might actually get serial killed tonight.” She peered out of the windshield of Jules’s truck, wishing her friend was here. But by the time Jules had called her and got the whole sordid story out of her, she’d already put herself out there in a way she couldn’t take back. Because of Quinn. Because she wanted to prove to him she wasn’t a completely hopeless basket case. Just mostly hopeless. Maybe like sixty-five percent hopeless.
One last check of her phone confirmed she was, in fact, here. Here being a field in the middle of nowhere when night had fallen and the headlights barely made a dent in the darkness. She gripped the steering wheel. “I’m reasonably sure that Quinn didn’t invite me out here to kill me. So there’s that.”
A knock on the window had her screaming. She cursed when she saw the man in question on the other side of the glass. He gave her a shit-eating grin. “Scared?”
“Only totally.” And feeling particularly ridiculous about it now that she was seeing him for the first time in over a week. Eight days, four hours, and some-odd minutes.
Not that she was counting.
He looked good in his white T-shirt and faded blue jeans. Better than good. Downright edible.
And she was most definitely stalling.
Aubry took up a shoring breath and opened the truck door. “I don’t know why we couldn’t have talked in Cups and Kittens.”
“Because I’m not looking for an audience.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on.” He led the way deeper into the field, and it took Aubry a few minutes to realize they were actually on a dirt road.
“Well, you’re right about us having to talk. I screwed up. I’m woman enough to admit that. I’m in therapy for a reason, though I think I need to fire my therapist because you did more good in a week than she’s done in years.”
“Aubry.”
But she couldn’t stop. If she didn’t get this out, she might never say it. “And I know to say I’m a basket case is understating the prob
lem, and that I turned every single one of my issues on you at your sister’s wedding, and I’m sorry, okay? I can’t promise I won’t have meltdowns and anxiety attacks and probably die in the first wave of the zombie apocalypse, but I will try to be better. I promise I’ll try.”
He laughed softly. “Peaches, you’re killing me.”
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and her mouth dropped open when Quinn stopped at the end of the track. “Is that—?”
“Old drive-in movie theater? Yeah. It hasn’t been used in over ten years, but I know a guy who knows a guy.”
“Like everyone else in Devil’s Falls.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. Did I mention I’m working on my issues?”
“I happen to like your smart mouth. Come here.” He motioned her closer, and she frowned when she made out his truck facing away from the screen, a couch in the bed of it. Quinn lifted her up and she took a seat on the couch, wondering what the hell was going on. He sat next to her, looking unsure for the first time since she’d known him. “I fucked up.”
“Quinn—”
“I let you ramble on. It’s my turn now. There isn’t a relationship worth having that doesn’t have its ups and downs and bumps along the road. I knew that and I still struck out at you when we were fighting. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, and I’m sorry.” He didn’t reach out for her, but he looked like he wanted to. He hesitated. “I know we don’t have a lot in common outside the bedroom, but I think what we do have is more than enough. We have the same sense of humor, and that’s more than most couples can say. I like how stubborn you are, and you’re sexy as fuck when you get that focused look on your face when you’re all up in your own head.”
It was almost too good to be true. Her first instinct was to argue with him, but she bit her lip and forced herself to hold still and listen. Because he wasn’t finished yet.
“I think we might be able to learn a thing or two from each other along the way, too.” He reached behind the couch and a whirling noise started up.
Aubry turned to the big screen and her jaw dropped open. “Oh, Quinn.” It was Deathmatch, on a massive screen, in the middle of a field. “How did you—?”