Page 74 of Rushing Into Love

He nodded, a smug grin on his face. “That I did.”

“Hey, when did you get to the party?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “I never even saw you there.”

Quinn leaned back in his chair, propping his ankle up on his knee. “I was parking my truck when you bolted out of the party, bro. You looked panicked, so I thought I’d better follow you, just in case. I figured it was something to do with a woman.” He rolled his eyes.

“While I was trailing you, I saw there was another car involved. I called down to the station and had my buddy run the plate. When he traced it back to Shayna, I sped up and followed her under the assumption that she was somehow involved in whatever made you jet out of there.”

“Smart thinking.” I nodded my head appreciatively.

“Every once in a while.” My brother chuckled. “Anyway, I tailed Shayna and she led me straight to the two of you.”

“Thank goodness you found us,” Bree said quietly, shaking her head. “Thank you, Quinn.” She locked eyes with my brother, her face filled with gratitude.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” Quinn shrugged. “It’s the least I could do after giving you so much grief.” He took another sip of his drink.

Bree snuggled back, her body relaxing into mine.

“You must be exhausted,” I said, stroking her hair. “We’ve been up all night. Close your eyes and rest.”

She murmured something, then her eyelids fluttered shut, and soon her breathing was soft and even.

“Seriously, Quinn, thank you.” I met his gaze and he shrugged.

“It’s all in a day’s work, brother. I’m glad I could be there for you this time.” He lifted his chin, his jaw set in a tight line.

“You were there for me before, Quinn.”

“Not like I should have been. I could have done more.” Dropping his gaze to the floor, he glared down at a wooden plank.

“No, you couldn’t,” I said firmly. “No one could have anticipated everything that happened. Not the injury, not all the crap with Shayna. You’ve always been there for me.”

“Well, I tried. But consider us even now.” He met my gaze, his face breaking into a grin.

“All square,” I agreed, nodding.

“All square.”

19

Bree

“You’re really doing this?” Brooklyn eyed me over her latte, eyebrows raised. “Don’t get my hopes up, only to dash them.”

“I’m really doing this. See?” I dangled the key to my newly rented bungalow as proof. “I signed the paperwork this morning. 234 Dahlia Drive, centrally located behind Main Street. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Grabbing Brooks by the arm, I forced her out of the cozy warmth ofThe Daily Grindand into the crisp autumn air. Trees were still ablaze in reds, golds, and oranges, but the leaves had started dropping rapidly, turning the grey cobblestones of Main Street into a fiery path. I pulled my white puffer vest tighter to my chest, attempting to block out the chill—I wasn’t used to the colder weather yet, that was for sure.

Arm in arm, Brooks and I passed the butcher shop, the florist, and the bookstore, then turned left off Main Street and walked two blocks east.

“Here we are, 234 Dahlia Drive.” My rental sat in the middle of a neat line of brick bungalows, all with matching postage stamp-sized lawns and single driveways.

“It’s cute,” Brooks said, nodding her approval as I creaked open the screen door.

“Thanks. I’m really lucky this place was available. There aren’t that many rental properties in Peachtree Grove.” I pushed the front door open for my sister, stepping aside so she could enter.

“Oh, Bree, it’s perfect!” she exclaimed, stepping into the front room. The bungalow came furnished, albeit sparsely, but that suited me just fine. Having lived in Cali, I’d become accustomed to minimalism.

“It really has everything I need. Two bedrooms, so I can use one as an office/guest room. The kitchen is small, but well-equipped, and the living room has a couch and a TV. Just right for me.”

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