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“Delaney?”
“Hmmm,” I murmured. Sleep threatened to overtake my body, but I pushed it away.
“Are you done with New York? Like, done-done? I know you’re here now and you opened the bakery and everything, but do you still have ties there? Do you want to go back?”
My muscles tensed and the looming sweet cocoon of sleep vanished. Holden’s bakery proposition popped into my mind and I knew I should at least mention it to Quinn. My stomach churned and my heart rate went into overdrive.
I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to spoil the moment—and I didn’t want to think about giving New York up forever right now.
Instead, I hedged. “I’m here for a good, long while. I own a business here and bakeries don’t run themselves. I can’t say I’ll never go back, but for now I’m here.”
Quinn’s jaw tightened, his expression serious.
“What are you really asking me, Quinn?” I propped myself up on my elbow and stared straight into his grey eyes.
“I know you rushed down here to be with your mom and your family. It was a big move, a decision made under pressure. I just wondered if you left anybody behind.”
“Well, I brought Mars with me, so no, I didn’t leave anyone important behind. If you’re asking me if I had a significant other in New York, the answer is no. Not at the time, anyway. I did, but that ended a long time ago.”
“Oh. Got it. Anything else I should know?”
“About my previous dating life?” I narrowed my eyes at him, and he nodded.
“Yeah.”
I shook my head. “Not really. My last serious relationship was a total disaster—I should never have dated him—and he turned out to be a real asshole. I haven’t dated anyone serious since. And you’re right about my life. This wasn’t my original plan. I wanted to stay in New York, to be honest, but stuff happens, you know? So I came home.” I sighed, a soft, melancholy sigh. I missed my mom. Talking about this brought up a lot of hurt for me and my stomach knotted with tension.
“I’m sorry you had to change your plans. But I’m glad you’re here.” He kissed me lightly on my hair, squeezing me to him in a tight embrace.
“Thanks. I’m doing fine, it’s good to be home for the holidays. And the bakery is amazing and was always my dream. It just happens to not be my ideal locale. But I’ll make it work.”
“Sounds like you’re settling,” Quinn said, his voice quiet.
“I call it being practical. It costs about twenty times more to start a bakery in Manhattan. So I’m taking the money my mom left me—all of it—and putting it to work here. Plus, my family needs me. Not my brothers, so much, but my dad. He’s lonely. This is where I need to be. For now, anyway,” I said, my voice strong, filled with resolve I mostly felt. The bakery was good and my family was great, but Quinn was right. Ihadleft Manhattan in a hurry. Maybe I’d made too hasty of a decision? And Holden was offering me a way to get back to my original dream…
My mouth suddenly felt like sandpaper. “Mind if I grab some water?”
“Not at all. I’ll get it, you stay here.” He moved away from me and I shivered as the chilly air hit my skin.
“Are you cold?” he asked, rubbing my shoulder.
“A little.”
“Grab one of my T-shirts. Top drawer. I’ll get us some water. Be right back.”
He strutted out of the room totally naked, totally confident, and totally comfortable in his own skin. I admired his firm ass for a minute, then slid out of bed in search of a T-shirt.
Opening the top drawer of his dresser, I scanned the rows of tightly folded shirts. He sure was neat and tidy, the complete opposite to my haphazard approach to laundry. I was lucky to fish a clean shirt out of a basket, forget folding anything. Gingerly, I plucked a grey shirt from the pile, pulled it out of the drawer.
A light clatter sounded near my feet, but it was so dark I couldn’t see what made the noise.
“Shit.” I bent down, patting my hand on the floorboards, trying to find what I’d dropped. Bingo. I wrapped my fingers around a small, hard object, securing it between my thumb and middle finger, then held it up in the shadowy light coming from the window.
It sparkled in the dim beam from the streetlamp. A diamond ring, one big, shiny rock glinting in the moonlight. My breath caught in my throat. What the hell? Was this the engagement ring Quinn had given his ex-fiancée? Why did he still have it? What did this mean?Was he still in love with his ex? My chest tightened at the thought.
The fridge door opened and shut, glasses clinking. Then footsteps. I committed the vision of the ring to memory, then shoved it back into the drawer, burying it deep beneath the T-shirts. Slamming the drawer shut, I threw the T-shirt over my head and bounded back into bed. I didn’t want Quinn to think I was snooping around in his stuff; I’d found the ring by mistake.
“One glass of water, for you.” Quinn handed me a tall glass and I took a quick sip, wetting my dry throat.
