Dare To Resist (Dare Nation 1)

Although her mother had a career, she believed her children, her daughters in particular, should want to have babies. Lots of babies. Even if Penelope had turned baby duty over to her oldest.

Quinn blew out a breath. “You’ll get grandchildren from Matthew, Chloe, or Jeff,” she assured her mother. “I certainly wasn’t going to leave Austin alone with a baby he didn’t know how to take care of.”

“Speaking of babies…” her mother began and Quinn stiffened, her shoulders tight with tension. “Matt mentioned that Daniel’s wife is pregnant. You realize if you hadn’t ended things, that could have been you, having his baby.”

Closing her eyes, Quinn slowly counted to five before answering in an attempt to calm down. “And didn’t you just say that I told you I didn’t want kids? Maybe if you hadn’t forced me to be everyone’s babysitter, I’d have had more of my own life and wouldn’t resent so much of my childhood,” she said, her voice growing louder.

A gasp sounded and Quinn spun around, shocked to see Austin’s mother standing in the kitchen.

Quinn blinked in surprise, at the same time, flushing with embarrassment at being overheard. “Mom, can we not rehash the past or argue? Listen, I need to go. I’ll call you later,” she said, softening her voice and disconnecting the call before her mother could reply.

She placed her phone on the counter and forced herself to look at Christine Prescott. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

The other woman appeared embarrassed, her cheeks flushed. “I knocked in case the baby was sleeping, but I didn’t want to ring that loud bell. I just let myself in, which I probably shouldn’t have done. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” She placed her handbag on a chair at the table. “But since I did hear … are you okay?”

Quinn swallowed hard, ashamed she’d been caught arguing with her mother over things she usually kept inside. “It’s nothing. I just—”

“Had an argument with your mom? Believe me, it happens.” Christine walked across the room and took over with the bottles. “I’ve had more fights with my kids than I can remember. Prescotts are hardheaded,” she said, and Quinn knew Christine was trying to lighten the mood. “Now that said, I take it being thrust into the role of caregiver for a baby was a trigger for you?”

Quinn sighed. “Come sit. You don’t need to make formula. I’ve got it. Please.” She put a hand on Christine’s back and led her to the table and chairs.

Before they settled in, Christine stepped over to the baby, paused the swing, and brushed her fingers down Jenny’s cheek. “Has she been good?”

“Yeah. She’s delicious. Such a sweet baby.” Quinn smiled. “And you’re feeling better?” she asked Austin’s mom.

“Much. Thank you.”

Did that mean Christine planned to stay and help Austin, making Quinn an extra set of hands he no longer needed? She gripped the counter, surprised at the pang of something that went through her at the thought.

Christine lifted Jenny out of the swing and kept her cuddled against her as they sat down across from each other. “Now back to my question. I left for my cruise without really knowing what was going on here. Did I put you in a bad place?”

Had watching Jenny been a trigger? Quinn thought back to Christine’s earlier question and sighed. “I come from a big family, and I was always good with the babies and the kids. The adults worked, and it fell to me to watch my siblings and cousins, which would have been fine except nobody ever stopped to wonder if they were interrupting anything in my life.”

She closed her eyes at the memories. Friday nights with friends missed. Dates unimportant. “There were events I had to skip, assumptions made, and my parents even wanted me to become a full-time nanny instead of going to school.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I adore kids but that’s not the point.”

Quinn waited for Austin’s mother to criticize her for resenting the fact that she had to help out her family, but Christine’s understanding smile knocked the wind out of her.

“Honey, when you have kids, they’re your responsibility. I’m not judging your parents. I’m sure they had their reasons and did the best they could, but it wasn’t your job to raise the other children in the family. And frankly it seems unfair of them to have asked it of you. Or not looked at what you wanted out of your own life.”

Tears threatened to fall because of Austin’s mother’s innate understanding. When was the last time anyone had looked at Quinn and comprehended the basic fact that she’d just wanted her own life? To make her own choices?

“I love my parents, but I’m a little jealous of your kids right now,” Quinn said, managing a smile.