“I feel so happy to be here with you,” he says, dipping his head down and nuzzling my neck with his chin.
“Me, too,” I say, so many emotions and feelings rushing through me. It’s hard to believe that it was only a day ago that I was standing outside a restaurant watching Henry go on a date with someone else. And now I’m here, in his arms.
“What are you thinking about, love?”
“Just that only twenty-four hours ago, you were on a date with someone else.”
He laughs, his hands running up and down my arms.
“And you still have one date left,” I say, realizing that I’d completely forgotten his final date—one more time where I have to be on the outside looking in. At least this time, I’ll know where his true feelings lie.
He chuckles. “Yeah, but I won’t like it, I promise,” he says.
I turn around in his arms so I can see his face, and I place a soft kiss on his lips. “You better not like it,” I say.
“I give you my word.” His lips quirk up on the side.
“But wait,” I say, remembering this whole stupid idea that I came up with. “You then have to pick someone for a second date.”
“That’s right . . . that was part of your idea,” he says.
“If I’d known that you were going to be the one doing the dating, I would have never even put it out there.”
“Have you hated it that much?”
“It’s been . . . mostly torturous.”
“But you said it wasn’t weird?” he says, a mischievous grin on his face as he recalls the words I said in his office just days ago.
“That was a lie and you know it.”
This time he laughs, his chest bouncing underneath me as he does. “If I’m being honest, it hasn’t been all that fun for me.”
“Really?”
“I only did the blasted thing because I said yes to Dwayne in a fit of rage over seeing you with that Brady chap,” he says.
My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” he says, exasperation in his voice. “I’ve been completely and utterly jealous.”
“You’re good at hiding it.”
“I’ve had to learn to keep my feelings hidden.” His lips twist to the side. So many words he could say, but he doesn’t need to. Claire. She’s a ghost that haunts him, even after all this time and all those miles away. I can’t totally blame him for that, and yet, is that how he wants to live his life?
“Well,” I say, making my voice light, “then you should know that I broke things off with Brady because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
His lips pull up into a full grin, and he leans in to kiss me softly.
The new part of a relationship—where you can’t keep your hands off each other—is my favorite part. And this time, it hasn’t been all about the physical; there are real, tangible feelings from both of us.
“We should go away this weekend,” I say when I pull my lips away from his. “We could go up to Saint Augustine or something.”
I picture us walking around the quaint town, hand in hand. Shopping and eating and looking like a real couple. Lazy walks along the beach, ankles deep in the water as we stroll, arms around each other. I’m wearing a big white floppy hat and a white billowy dress that hides all my unforgiving parts. Actually, in this scenario I’m magically a size four. That’s usually how most of my fantasies go.
His brows pull down and inward. “I . . . we better not. Not yet.”
I put my hands on his chest and push myself away, putting some distance between us.
“It’s like two hours from here—who would we possibly see up there?”
“You never know,” he says. “You’d be surprised.”
I try to tamp down the annoyance that worms its ugly head through me like a slow-moving snake slithering its way through my stomach and up my spine.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
“Not really. I mean, you do have a video or two out there; you are recognized.”
“Hardly ever anymore,” I say, feeling grateful it’s the truth for so many reasons. “And even if I were, what are the chances of them snapping a picture of us together and it somehow getting back to Dwayne or someone else at work?”
“I get it, Quinn. I know it sounds preposterous. But it would be my luck to take a chance and be caught. I don’t expect you to fully understand the enormity of my situation. I just need time.”
I don’t know why this rubs me so wrong. The insecure part of my brain wonders if maybe Henry doesn’t want to be seen with me. I tamp that down, because before this whole work thing happened, he had no problems being out in public with me. But still, there’s something there, something I can’t place my finger on.
“I’m trying to understand, I am. But how long, Henry?”
“How long?” The space above his nose squishes together.
“How long will we have to be in secret? Going between our two places?”
He looks downward for a beat and then back up at me. “I don’t know, Quinn. This job is all new for me. I—” He stops himself, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. “I can’t tell you how long.”
“Weeks? Months? Years?” I say, my mind starting to take off on a gallop. How long would I be willing to keep this up?
He shakes his head. “Definitely not years,” he says. He reaches out and grabs my hands in his.
“But . . . months.”
“I hope not.” He looks me in the eyes. “Just give me time, Quinn. Please.”
The pleading look in his eyes softens my annoyance. I lean back into him, chest to chest. Our faces inches away. “Don’t make me wait too long, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” Henry says, erasing the space between us and kissing me soundly on the mouth.
Okay, so this isn’t the best scenario. This isn’t exactly what I wanted in a relationship with Henry. But this is all that’s being offered right now. And it’s all so new, all so fresh, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions anyway. Maybe it will end up being a few weeks until he’s comfortable. Plus, I know what happened. I know why he’s being so careful about this. Isn’t it selfish of me to expect things from him? If the tables were turned, wouldn’t I ask the same of him?
But even as I think this, as I realize that I can do this for Henry, at least for now, Thomas’s voice comes into my mind: Classic Quinn. Settling.
This is different. I’m not settling. It’s a temporary thing.
Definitely not settling.
Chapter 21
“So, you and Henry,” Holly says, wineglass in hand, her sidekick Logan next to her. It’s Monday, and I’m with my group of friends at Hester’s. Everyone’s here. Bree, Alex, and Thomas.
I love how she brings this up so nonchalantly. Like she doesn’t know every detail since I called and told her everything. Normally, I would have called her immediately, but since Tuesday, I’ve either been at work or I’ve been with Henry. There just hasn’t been the time. Then we played phone tag until I finally got a hold of her on Saturday morning and gave her every little detail.