AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I knew what she saw.
The black wall behind the bed. The dark coffee colored molding around the room. The bedspread, which was also coffee colored. The other three walls that were white.
“You…” she started again.
“I made it what you wanted,” I told her honestly, kicking my boots off and crawling into the bed beside her. “Everything about this house is everything we ever talked about it being.”
She shook her head, her eyes welling with unshed tears. “Quinn. I don’t know what to say.”
I smoothed a few hairs out of her face before saying, “It’s only ever been you, Soleada. I’m just a dumbass for thinking I could make a change without checking with you first.”
One of those tears spilled over as she said, “I’m scared.”
Her honesty felt like I’d taken a kick straight to the stomach.
Hell, that’s all I felt like I was experiencing these days. Gut punches.
“I’m scared, too,” I told her. “I’m scared that you’ll leave me after deciding I’m too much work. I’m scared that you’ll hate this place. I’m scared that you won’t give me a second chance. I’m scared that you’ll never forgive me for not telling you about that warrant where you got hurt. I’m scared that you won’t forgive me for putting your brother in jail. I’m scared about a whole fuckin’ lot of things.”
She leaned her head on my chest for the longest of times before saying, “I think I’ll take you up on that nap.”
It wasn’t quite the words I wanted to hear, but they were good enough for now.
“Sleep,” I ordered. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
I love it when a man tells me what to do. I won’t listen, but I like how it sounds.
—Shayne to Ande
SHAYNE
Three days later, I’d gotten flowers from the entire Carter family, my brother—and how he did this from prison I didn’t know—and my assistant boss, Cleo.
What I’d also gotten was smothered.
Quinn wouldn’t allow me to be alone for a single second.
If he wasn’t there, then Ande was.
Or Garnett.
Or any of the Carters.
Hell, even Keene was over here staying with me while everyone went to work.
I was exhausted and in need of a people break.
I was at the breaking point, and Quinn had no clue.
So when he asked me to do something I loved, I, of course, snapped.
“Sing with me, baby,” Quinn urged.
I looked over at him, my lungs hurting from just thinking about singing.
“I can’t,” I told him.
“The doctor said that you needed to exercise your lungs,” he disagreed with me while he sat me up in the bed where we’d been lounging. “I think singing is the perfect way to do that.”
