“Oh my god,” Quinn gushes. “Just one more step, baby.”
Brooklyn squeals and looks over at me before taking the final step into her mama’s arms and Quinn squeezes her to her chest as she praises her.
“You did it, baby girl. You’re getting so big.”
Brooklyn reaches for me and Quinn sighs as she rolls her eyes.
“Oh, of course. You just want Lucas.”
“You can’t blame her, Darlin’,” I tell her, grinning as I pull the baby into my arms. “She’s got damn good tastes.”
I stand and sit down on the couch with Brooklyn in my arms and Quinn cuddles in next to me again as Brooke lays her head on my chest.
“I suppose that’s true,” she says, brushing her fingers across Brooklyn’s chubby little cheek. “You are an excellent pillow.”
I laugh and wrap my arm around her. “Oh, is that why the two of you are keeping me around?”
“Among other things.”
“Like what?” I ask and she grins before dropping her gaze to my cock. Arching a brow, I pull her closer until my lips brush against her ear so the baby won’t hear. “You dirty fucking girl.”
She pulls back with a grin on her face and winks as she plays with the neckline on my t-shirt. “Put her to bed and I’ll show you just how much.”
“Sold,” I call out, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before standing up. She follows behind me as we walk up the stairs to Brooklyn’s room and I watch as Quinn changes her into her pajamas. Her eyes are droopy when we lay her down in her crib and cover her with her blanket but she’s not asleep yet.
“Now, where were we?” Quinn asks, pulling me into her body in the hallway outside the nursery and I shake my head.
“Not yet, gorgeous. She’s still awake.”
She laughs. “Lucas, she’ll be out in minutes.”
“Nope, not risking it. Let’s go watch TV or something for a little while.”
Her eyes light up and she nods. “All right. I’ve got Pretty Woman downstairs and I’ve been waiting to test your movie knowledge.”
“Big mistake,” I say, imitating Julia Roberts’ voice from the movie. “Huge.”
“I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong,” she answers with a giggle. “But it’s going to take more than one line from the movie to convince me.”
“Lead the way then, gorgeous.”
We walk back downstairs and sit down on the couch. I pull her into my arms as she searches for the movie and starts playing it. As the opening credits roll, she grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and covers us with it as I reach over her head and hit the light switch.
When I start singing along to The King of Wishful Thinking by Go West, she laughs and peeks up at me. “Still not totally convinced, sir.”
“Just wait.”
Cuddling together on the couch, we watch the movie and by the time Julia Roberts is singing in the bathtub, Quinn admits defeat.
“All right, so you’ve seen the movie a time or two.”
I shake my head. “Try ten or twenty, at least. Insomnia, remember?”
“What kept you up when you were a kid?” she asks, her voice soft as she plays with the hair at the base of my neck and I suck in a breath, fighting back painful memories. Before I can answer her, my phone rings and she pauses the movie to allow me to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Luke?” Clay’s disoriented voice answers and I sit up, offering Quinn an apologetic look for jostling her.
“Clay? What’s going on?”
There’s music thumping in the background and he moves somewhere a little quieter. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong about what?”
“Dad is innocent. I know he is.”
I drop my face in my hand and release a breath. “Clay, no, he’s not.”
“No! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How the fuck do I not know what I’m talking about?” I snap before remembering that Quinn is still behind me but when I glance back at her, the only expression on her face is a supportive one.
“You were just a kid and you have no idea what was really going on. I’ve been searching for evidence and I’m going to find it. I’m going to get Dad out of jail.”
“Clay,” I whisper, tears springing to my eyes as I think about our mother. “Don’t you think if there actually was evidence to find, someone would have found it by now?”
“They set him up, Luke! The police and the judges and the lawyers, they all set him up.”
“Why would they do that? Think about what you’re saying, Clay. It doesn’t make any sense.”
He scoffs. “Then how do you explain it all?”
“Look, can we meet and talk about this? I’m worried about you.”
“No. I’m not meeting you until I have the proof I need.”
“Clay,” I snap but the dial tone greets me. I grip the phone in my hand as I grit my teeth and let out a roar of frustration.
“Lucas,” Quinn whispers and I glance back at her, expecting to see fear and feeling like shit for not being able to control my temper, just like my father, but instead, she scoots closer with furrowed brows and lays her hand on my back. “What’s going on?”
“Shit,” I hiss, turning back to look at her and this time I’m not even trying to hide the riot of emotions controlling my body right now. “There are things I haven’t told you, Quinn.”
She nods, vulnerability flicking through her eyes for a second and I hate to see it. “Okay. Tell me now.”
“I don’t…”
“No, Lucas. I can tell by your side of the conversation that this is serious and you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
I sigh. “Babe, I lied to you.”
“About?” she asks with an edge to her voice that I’ve never heard before and my stomach rolls. Fuck, what if she doesn’t want to be with me after I tell her everything? My past is dark and I couldn’t blame her for not wanting this crazy in her life or her daughter’s.
“About my past, my parents.”
“They’re not dead?”
I shake my head. “My mom is dead… and my dad is serving life in prison for murdering her.”
“Oh, God,” she gasps and when I look back at her again, there are tears in her eyes. I scoot back to her side and kiss her softly. When I pull back, she yanks me back to her and presses her forehead to mine and my fear subsides. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“Only if I can do it while holding you,” I answer and she nods before climbing onto my lap and straddling my hips. I suck in a breath as I wonder where to start this story but before I can, she lays her hand flat against my chest, right over my racing heart and the same peace that I’ve felt since the moment I looked into her eyes settles inside me.
“You okay?” She grabs my other hand and holds it tight. I nod.
“Yeah, I’m good now.”
She waits patiently for me to begin my story and when I’m finally ready, I take a deep breath and look up at her.
“I was ten years old when it happened and Clay was five. Dad had lost his job a few months before that and he and Mom had been fighting a lot. I used to lay in bed at night and listen to them scream at each other until the sun started coming up.”