Page 97 of Just My Ex

Not possible—for many reasons. Doesn’t stop me from smiling. I make a split-second decision.

“Things are in the works. I’m planning to move to Irvine, Quinn.”

“What?”

“It’ll take some time. I can’t yet. But soon. Please try to be patient, because of the NDA and all that’s involved.”

“You’ve been planning this for a while? That’s why you had that real estate site pulled up on your iPad.”

“I wanted to tell you. But Quinn, regardless of what happens between us, I want to be near Navie. I want to take her to her first day of kindergarten. I want to make her peanut butter and jellys. I want to buy her a puppy.”

She grabs my chin with both of her hands and kisses me until we’re both breathless.

Again, this stopping thing is torture, but I cannot risk harming things by rushing. “I have something else for you.” I reach down to grab the backpack and unzip it, producing the carving I made for her. “I was also going to mail them to you. Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap them.”

I hand her the smaller one, wrapped in a white dish towel, and she looks confused as she takes it in her hands. “It’s heavier than it looks.” She unwraps the dish towel and gasps. “A little dog?”

“That’s for Navie. A German Shepard.”

“It’s amazing. I didn’t know you could do this.”

She stares at it, running her fingers over the varied grain of olive wood. I hand the other bundle to her, this one wrapped in a larger dish towel.

“And this one’s a tree carved out of olivewood? It’s beautiful.” She sniffs it and runs her fingertips over the surface. She turns it upside down and looks at the base. “For Quinn. H.T.” Her mouth drops open. “You actually made this, Henry?”

“I got the piece of wood when I was in Iran. I put off carving anything because you have to let the wood dry out for months. By that point, I was deployed again, and then working in security and couldn’t bring it along.” I sigh. “The tree is crooked.”

“Like the tattoo,” she breathes.

“It’s crooked because crooked trees have something terrible happen to them. Maybe it’s manmade, maybe there’s a natural disaster, or drought or disease. But something shakes it up, something nearly kills it.” I take the carving from her. “But look, Quinn, it’s still growing. It straightens out. It rights itself and keeps on growing. Every time I see a crooked, wonky tree, I think of you and me, and I hope—I hope that’s us.”

Quinn’s bottom lip trembles. She brings the tree close to her and cradles it against her cheek. Then she sets it on the floor and pulls me to her. She kisses me, so tenderly and softly at first. It’s wonderful to savor it. To savor her lips. To feel the gratitude that flows through me as I get to kiss the most incredible woman I’ve ever known.

Chapter 39

Quinn

I’m awakened by the hee-haw of Mr. Maverick the Donkey braying and it’sloud.No one ever tells you that a donkey’s bray is like a freight train belching in your face.

I jump up and out of Henry’s arms, my heart skittering, half expecting to be stampeded any moment.

I hear Henry’s chuckle, and whip around to see him sitting up, still in his clothes from yesterday.

“Where is he?” I ask, running a hand through my hair and then wiping my mouth because I wouldn’t be surprised if I drooled in my sleep.

“Down in his pen.”

“Was he just quiet down there all night?”

“Why wouldn’t he have been? When I fed him this morning, though, he seemed slightly peeved at us for intruding on his home.”

I peer over the side of the loft. “Sorry about that, Mav! Thanks for letting us crash your pad.” I flex my neck from side to side.

He chuckles, then points to my neck. “You okay?”

“You’re not a very soft pillow,” I tell him, my smile bursting forth like a can of popping dough.

“Was it better than lying your head on the hard wooden floor?”

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