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I allowed my gaze to flitter around the room, tuning out everything but the way seeing Quinn’s newly built house made me feel.
Cherished.
That was what I decided on a few minutes later.
Cherished.
My brain was pleasantly fuzzy, for the first time in days no longer being completely focused on what I’d lost.
The baby.
My house.
My Nonna.
My brother.
My freedom.
The baby.
The baby.
The baby.
“My fiancée and I will call if she comes up with any more information,” I felt Quinn’s warm hand wrap around my own, pulling me out of the death spiral. “Thank you.”
Ambrose got up and walked away, but not before he stopped to level his intense gaze on me.
“I can’t say that your brother getting arrested will change you,” he said, surprising me with his words. “But after having to go through much the same situation with my sister, I can tell you from experience that you did the best you could. Sometimes your best just isn’t good enough, though. Sometimes people need to hit rock bottom before they can pull their head out of their ass long enough to see the better side of things.”
With that majestically worded comment, he left and didn’t look back.
Which, of course, was when I remembered an earlier comment.
“I’m not your fiancée,” I snapped at him.
“Sure, you are,” he disagreed. “Because I won’t give up until I’m dead.”
I gritted my teeth before saying, “That can be arranged.”
The brothers in the room laughed.
Garnett patted my shoulder before saying, “I hate to break it to you, Solei, but Quinn is my most stubborn. He’s going to fix it. You might as well make amends with that fact now.”
I ignored them all and walked back to Quinn’s room.
Once there, I buried my face into his pillow, and tried to turn my brain off again.
I’ll give credit where credit is due, but I’m not going to applaud a fish for swimming.
—Quinn to Shayne
QUINN
“What are you doing?”
I looked up from my magnifying glass before saying, “Trying to put her Nonna’s plate back together.”
