Page 65 of A Newport Christmess

Quinn was a natural, tender and caring, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her—until Nikki stepped in front of me and grabbed my wrist, tugging me into the hallway behind her.

“Whoa,” I said when we were a few steps outside of the room. “What’s got you all riled up?”

“You’re putting on quite the show in there,” she whispered, a smug look on her face.

I crossed my arms, feeling self-conscious under her glare. “First off, it’s not a show.”

She stepped close to me. “You expect me to believe that, in a week and a few days, you’re this smitten with Quinn?” She shook her head. “I’m not buying it.”

My head cocked back. I hadn’t been doing anything to try to convince everyone of my pretend feelings for Quinn. Not today. And not with Quinn’s well-planted comment still lodged in the back of my mind, making me second-guess everything.

Julie stepped out of the door and glanced between us. “Is something wrong?”

Nikki flung a hand toward me. “Landon is an idiot,” she hissed.

I pointed at myself, my jaw hanging open. “What have I done?”

“Shhhh…” Julie shut the door before turning back toward us. “What is this about?”

“He won’t admit it, but Landon didn’t want me to play matchmaker, so he got Quinn to agree to”—Nikki did air quotes with her fingers—“date him.”

Julie’s hands went to her hips, and her glare settled on me. “That, in there, was all pretend?”

I threw up my hands, confused as to what they were even talking about. I mean, I had played up the part previously, but not today.

Nikki crossed her arms. “It was like I was watching some poorly executed romance movie with how overdone the staring was. And the excessive number of coincidental touches ...” She shook her head.

“And all the shared smiles and glances.” Julie added with a frown. “How disappointing it isn’t real.”

Under the condemning stares of my sisters, I couldn’t deny it. I didn’t want to. I wanted to have it all out and be done. Quinn deserved better than to be forced to keep pretending. “It wasn’t Quinn’s idea.” This was entirely on me.

Nikki jabbed her index finger into my chest. “I knew it. I knew you were faking.”

My hands lifted in defense. “You are the reason we did it.” I swallowed, realizing how stupid that suddenly sounded. “I told you I didn’t want to be set up.” And there was no way I would allow Quinn to be set up with Tyler.

“For such a smart guy, you clearly didn’t think any of this through.” The intensity of Nikki’s scowl made me shift uncomfortably. “It takes anyone like 3.2 seconds to realize Quinn is the kindest, most genuine person on the face of this planet. She’d never say no to your scheme, even if she wanted to. And watching her, it’s obvious she’s conflating what’s real and what’s not. It might be pretend for you, but unless she’s an Academy-Award-winning actress, it’s not for her. She’s obviously falling for you. Which brings us back to you being an idiot.”

I stared at Nikki, my mind focusing on the only point I seemed to hear. “You think her feelings for me are real?”

“There’s not a doubt in my mind.” Nikki sighed. “But she deserves a man who will treasure her—not one who will use her to get out of a date. So if that’s not you, you need to put an end to this. I don’t want to see her hurt, not after everything she’s been through this year.”

I tensed like I’d just been given a round-house kick to the stomach. It was undeniably because of Nikki’s blatant criticism, but it was also more than that. A lot more than that. The thought of ending anything between me and Quinn—pretend or not—made me feel hollow inside. Dread, even.

A man who will treasure her ... so if that’s not you ...

Why couldn’t that be me? In an instant, I was playing back all the excuses I’d used to keep my feelings in check while Quinn and I had spent time together. Only one still seemed to hold true: Quinn wasn’t ready for a relationship. She’d stated the fact from the beginning, and I needed to respect that. But what if Nikki was right? What if Quinn’s feelings for me were real? Like my feelings for her had clearly become.

A stampede of running feet on the tile floor forced our attention down the hallway.

Carson ran toward us, waving a package of chips in the air, with Gavin and Chloe close on his heels and Kade rounding the corner a good distance behind them at a casual stride. “Mom, look what Uncle Kade bought us at the vending machine!”

The nurse at the nearby station rose from her seat at the computer. “No running, please.”

“Sorry,” Julie said before turning her gaze on her children. “You heard her. Slow down.”

Undeterred, Carson speed-walked the rest of the way to us. “Look. Kade got me my favorite chips—sour cream and cheddar.”

Chloe gave an exaggerated eye roll and stepped up next to him. She looked so much like Julie when she was a little girl, from the dark hair and eyes down to the splash of freckles across her nose. “Those aren’t his favorite chips, are they, Mom?”