Page 53 of What Love Can Do

How would he find the journal in the house, if he couldn’t bring himself to mention it to the gatekeeper? Quinn sighed, glancing around the bed-and-breakfast living room, taking in its symmetry, vintage furniture, and all the new spooky additions before he never saw the place again.

“Quinn?”

Turning slowly, he stared at Lilly’s mam.

“I know you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, swiping at her eyes. “I’m just scared to lose my daughter.”

He considered this change in tune. It made sense. He knew there had to be an underlying reason for her harshness when he hadn’t done anything to offend her. “I understand, Mrs. Parker. I’m sorry for undressing in your kitchen. I’m sure that didn’t help.”

She shook her head, looking down. “In a small town, you either love it or you hate it. If you hate it, you rarely come back to live.”

“I don’t think Lilly hates it here, Mrs. Parker, but she’s at that tipping point.”

“And I don’t blame her.” Mrs. Parker gave a sardonic laugh and brought a tissue to her nose. “With an overbearing old hag like me for a mother?”

“You mean a loving mom like you?” Quinn said, giving her a contained smile. “It’ll all be alright. Just trust her, and everything will be alright. You raised a good girl.”

“Yes, I did,” she said, straightening her composure. “And you? You staying or leaving?” she asked, sounding like she actually cared what happened to him.

“I’m staying for another week at least.” Of course, he planned to stay for much longer than that, but she didn’t need to know that yet.

“Well, good luck then,” she said. “And Quinn? I’m sorry about your mom.”

Her condolences were real. He could see that much from her softened expression and smile. “Thanks.” He opened the door and walked into the fresh sunshine. Sighing, he marveled at how many different sides one person could have to their personality and what brought out the worst in them. It was satisfying, at the very least, to know that she had nothing against Quinn personally, though she really seemed to fear losing Lilly.

He couldn’t blame her. He felt the same.

An idea occurred to him and he scuttled across the lawn into the parking lot, rounding the corner. Remembering the way Lilly had shown him when they snuck up to her room that wonderful night under the stars, he edged his way along the side wall of the establishment until he reached the side doorway. Finding the door unlocked, he slipped inside the warmth and headed for the side stairs.

Nobody was around, which meant he could climb the stairs quickly without running into anyone and having to defend himself. He cringed, imagining how quickly Penny Parker would change her mind if she knew the boy she had suddenly forgiven was now prowling around her house. Chuckling to himself, he reached the top steps of the third floor and approached Lilly’s closed bedroom.

“Please, please be open,” he muttered, placing his hand on the door knob and turning.

Locked.

“Fuck.”

He reached up to feel along the top edge of the door frame, and sure enough, his fingers ran across a thin piece of metal. He plucked it off and looked down at his open palm. An interior door skeleton key. Without thinking much about it, before he changed his mind, he pushed the narrow tip through the hole in the center of the knob and turned to the right.

Open sesame.

Her bedroom brought back instant memories of that one, amazing night. For a woman who’d supposedly just left to live in Miami for six months, she hadn’t appeared to have taken much. Her bed was littered with crumpled clothing, even a few freshly-laundered underwear. Though his curiosity tempted him to lift one and give it a good look, he resisted the urge to peruse Lilly’s clothes while she wasn’t around. He was hot for her, but he wasn’t a creep.

Scanning the room, he didn’t spot the journal anywhere. “Come on, come on…”

He searched everywhere he’d be if he were a leather-bound journal—on the desk, under the mountain of clothes, on her nightstand… He stopped. Her laptop was here. Why, if she had left for Miami, would she have left her laptop? Underneath the silver edge of metal was a little piece of paper. He tugged at it—a Post It Note with L <3 Q written on it.

So, not only had she not left yet, but she was thinking about him, eh?

He smiled.

A heavy weight seemed to lift off his chest just knowing that she was still around, that she was just as much in love with him as he was with her. He pocketed the piece of paper and went to her French doors to the patio. Unlocking and opening them up, it was like all of Green Valley had come home to just him. The rolling hills, the now-familiar rows and rows of vineyards, both from the Parker House and other town families, blanketed the land.

Quinn sighed. He wasn’t sure what was more beautiful—this view underneath the stars or during the morning light. Light footsteps walked across the wooden deck, as Quinn inhaled the scent of gardenias and hydrangeas soaking up the sun. The aromas reminded him of Lilly. Whether her skin had smelled of flowers, or her flowers smelled of Lilly, he wasn’t sure. Maybe they were one and the same.

Reaching her lounge chair, he pressed back against the rest and enjoyed the view.

A gust of wind raced through the valley, sending a fresh burst of dry leaves dancing all over the deck. Something fluttered next to him. On the wooden side table next to the chair, pages from a book flapped in the breeze. He spotted the leather brown cover—Mam’s journal.

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