Through His Eyes
“Lachlan, I don’t want to sound like some gold-digger”—Quinn scrunches her nose up adorably—“but how are you able to afford all of this?”
“I’m a damn good tattoo artist,” I joke, and she laughs.
“I’m kidding…I sell drugs.” When her eyes bug out, I crack up laughing. “I’m kidding! I’m an only child.” I shrug. “Since I was old enough to walk, I’ve helped my parents with the distillery. I worked there all through high school. When I turned eighteen, my parents gave me one-third ownership of the business. I told you I owned it with them.”
“Yeah, you did. I guess I didn’t consider what that means.”
“It means I get a five figure quarterly check for as long as we’re in business. Whenever they need me, like when my dad had his stroke, I’m there.”
“Wow, that’s awesome,” she says. “I love that you’re so involved in your family’s business. If I could tattoo, I would’ve opened Forbidden Ink with Jase and Jax, but drawing is not my forte.” She laughs.
Taking her hands in mine, I pull her into me until we’re almost flush. “Family is important to me. Sure, having money is a positive since we need it to survive, but being with family, spending time with them is what’s important. I could’ve worked full-time for my parent’s distillery, but they knew inking was my passion. I didn’t ask or expect them to give me a percentage of the business, but they did it because they wanted to make sure I’m always taken care of. The same reason your brothers wanted you to have that townhouse instead of selling it. It’s part of being in a family. And one day I would really like for us to be a family.”
Quinn nibbles on her bottom lip and nods. “I want that too.”
* * *
Because of the time difference between home and here, Quinn isn’t the least bit tired. I warned her she’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight she can’t sleep, so we spend the next few hours lounging in the spa tub, talking about this weekend and the wedding, who she’ll be meeting, planning our day tomorrow, Facetiming Kinsley, and getting fully acquainted with our comfortable as fuck bed.
The morning comes too soon, and while I want to stay in bed—and in Quinn—all day, I also don’t want to waste the time we have here. So, after ordering breakfast from room service, I wake her up so she can jump in the shower and we can start our day. After we eat, we head out. We’re planning to have brunch with my entire family tomorrow morning, but I already told my parents that today and tonight would be just Quinn and me.
We drive to the center of the city, to Eyre Square, and get out. It’s not spectacular, just a typical downtown type of area with places to shop and eat, but it’s a nice day out, and the walk over to the Salthill Promenade, which runs along the northern shore, makes it worth it.
“Lachlan! This country, this city, is seriously so beautiful,” Quinn gushes as she takes picture after picture of everything she sees. As she watches everything and everyone around her, I watch her. I love seeing her excitement, her love for the city my family is from.
After checking out all the different shops, we eat at a bistro in the square and then walk hand-in-hand along the sidewalk that leads to Salthill. The closer we get to the beach, the more nervous I get. Quinn of course notices and asks if everything is okay.
“Everything is perfect,” I tell her honestly.
When we get to the shoreline, we walk a bit farther until we’re alone. Quinn takes pictures of the water, the pier, and the rocks. She gushes over everything, from the smell of the salty air to the beauty in the way the water hits the rocks. Briefly lowering her camera, she turns to me with the most beautiful smile and says, “Thank you for bringing me here,” and my heart feels like it’s about to explode. She’s the best mom, the most selfless, caring woman. She loves with everything she has, and she has no idea how much she deserves, how much I want to give her. What I want, and plan, to give her, if she’ll agree to spend her life with me.
She turns back to take more pictures, and I pull the ring box out of my pocket and get down on one knee. It takes her a second before she looks back over at me, but when she does, when her eyes glide downward and she sees I’m kneeling with an open ring box in my hand, her camera falls, which is thankfully hanging around her neck, her hands go to her mouth, and she gasps loudly.
“The moment I saw you walk through the door of Forbidden Ink, I knew you were the one. Not only were you the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but your sass was a damn turn on.”