Page 61 of A Newport Christmess

“A little too well. I think all the excitement from ... yesterday exhausted me.” She bit at her lip. “How about you?”

“Until I heard the snowplow early this morning, I didn’t budge all night.”

“Looks like we might need to start a new nightly tradition.” Her full smile came out in all its heart-stopping glory. “Sleep is important, you know?”

Relief flowed over me, and I instantly brightened. She wouldn’t be smiling and teasing if she regretted our kiss. Or kisses. Plural. “I could definitely get on board with that.”

“Thanks for sending those pictures of us at the bay. Oh, and I posted that video you made.”

Pride swelled in my chest, but I didn’t tell her I’d already seen the post. Not yet. “And how’d it go?”

“I think you might be right. Several people shared it, including Nikki, and I got a ton more likes and comments than I’ve been getting. My followers also seemed really excited to see me in a reel again.”

“That is what the vast majority of the comments were saying.”

She swatted at my arm. “You already saw it?”

“Did you not see my comment?”

“I haven’t read through them all yet.”

“It’s okay. It would be difficult having to sift through hundreds of messages of adoration to find a random one from some guy.”

“Yep. Just some rando.” She laughed before her eyes widened. “You probably need to go. Here.” She walked into the kitchen and grabbed the small, undecorated gingerbread house off the counter. “It’s pretty sturdy, but I don’t recommend dropping it.”

I took hold of the cardboard base the house was centered on. “I can’t believe you just whipped this up. It looks amazing.”

“Thanks. Oh, and let me grab you the icing.” She returned with two bags full of the frosting and set them on the side of the cardboard. “One is probably enough, but I didn’t want you to run out. You can bring back any extra.”

“Why don’t you come with me?” The question burst out of me before I had time to stop it. All morning, I’d been thinking how fun it would be for Quinn to come along, but I hadn’t actually planned on asking her.

Her gaze met mine. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family time.”

“It wouldn’t be an intrusion. Since Nikki will be there, I thought it would be a good opportunity to continue convincing her of our feelings.”

Quinn’s gaze dropped to the ground. “That makes sense.”

“It won’t be for very long. An hour or two at most. And to make up for lost time, I’ll provide you lunch and dinner today so you don’t even have to cook.” What was I doing? She clearly had things to do, and I was looking desperate. But I kind of felt desperate. No. I needed to dial it back a little. “It’s fine if you can’t. I’m sure I’ll be able to teach my grandma how to do this.” I lifted the house a fraction, nearly sending the frosting bags to the ground.

She reached her hand up to stabilize them. “Why would you need to teach her? I thought she loved decorating gingerbread houses.”

“She has Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t remember much.”

Quinn’s brow creased. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. You don’t need to take this, then.” Her hands settled on the edges of the cardboard, brushing against mine. The flow of energy that rushed through me made me want to scoop her up and carry her back to the couch. Who cared that I’d be a few minutes late?

Grateful my rational brain was still functioning to some degree, I kept hold of the gingerbread. “Just because she can’t remember how to do it doesn’t mean she won’t enjoy it.” I looked down. “So the gist, for us typical gingerbread decorators, is to cover the gingerbread house in frosting and stick candy to it, right?”

She gave a defeated huff. “Do I have time to change before we go?”

* * *

Quinn was unusually quiet the last few minutes of the drive. When we got to the nursing home, I put the truck in park but didn’t turn off the ignition. “Are you having second thoughts about coming? Because I can run you home.”

The frosting rested between us on the middle console with the bags of candy we’d stopped to get, but she clung to the cardboard of the gingerbread house on her lap like it was a lifeline. “How are you going to introduce me to your family?”

“Probably as Quinn Cook, unless you have another name you’d like me to give them?”

She sent me a pointed glance. “Very funny. You know exactly what I mean.”