Page 85 of Just One Moment

Yes,I’veexperienced heartbreak and loss, but overall,I’vebeen happy.Ihave a supportive family, a jobIenjoy, and a roof over my head.Ialways thought this was it, this is as good as it’s going to get.I’dmade peace with it.

AsIstudy the slope ofQuinn’snose, the way her dark lashes brush against her round cheeks, and how the early morning sun picks up the different tones in her hair,Idecide being wrong feels pretty fucking good.

Shemakes me better; makes everything better.

NeverdidIthinkIwould be deserving of her bright light, warm smiles, soft kisses, and sweet noises.I’mstill not sureIam, but who amIto question how things turn out?

Shestirs and stretches her arms upward like a cat, arching her ass into my lap and rubbing against my stiff cock.Breathingin her sweetness,Ibury my face into her neck, and a possessive surge shoots through me when my own scent lingers on her skin.Itmakes me want to waltz her around town so everyone knows she’s mine.

Thesecond we agreed this wasn’t fake, it felt like a wrecking ball tore through our agreement, andIwanted to roar with satisfaction in the rubble.

Thisis real.

“Isthat a tentacle in your pants or are you happy to see me?”Hervoice is heavy with sleep, but there’s no hiding the mischief in her tone.

Laughinginto her neck,Itickle her sides until she squeals.

“Bettera tentacle than a claw.”

Sherolls to face me, cheeks rosy and hair disheveled.Notwanting to forget what it feels like to have her in my arms and in my bed,Istare at her as if we have all the time in the world.

“Whatare your plans today?” she asks with a yawn.It’salmost six a.m.She’susually at the bakery by now but confessed last night that she wanted to open later today.Itexted my boss once we got to the hospital, asking to take a vacation day.Usually,I’dfeel guilty about taking the day off or keepingQuinnin bed, but when her calf slides up the inside of my thigh,Ifind it impossible to find any probable cause to leave this room.

“I’mgoing to check on my mom.Areyou still meeting up withJohannaatShirley’stonight?”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to catch up.Besure to have thatDavidAttenboroughdocumentary and a blanket ready for whenIget home.Itsure is getting cold, soIexpect cuddles every night.Whendo you think it’ll snow?Oh!Ishould buy some snow boots.”

Ilove her endless babble.Thisgirl could hold a conversation with herself and not get bored.Hercheery voice is likemusic to my ears, but it’s the wordhomeshe uses so casually that rings like bells and vibrates in my chest.

Isthis home to her?Withme?

Whenthe van is fixed, she’ll want to leave,Iunderstand that.Idon’t want to take away theindependence she’s built for herself, but having her here, with all her brightly colored blankets, pom-poms, and candles has finally made this cold space feel like a home for me too.

“Letme text my brothers.MaybeI’lltag along.”Hersurprise quickly shifts into delight.

“I’dreally like that.Wedon’t have to stay long.I’mreally obsessed with those sea turtles.”

Theusual discomfort and annoyanceIfeel about meeting up at the bar is nowhere to be seen.Weirdly,Iwant to join them tonight and it’s not becauseI’mbeing guilted into coming or someone is trying to force me into a moldIdon’t belong in.

Amongthe many things missing betweenJennaand me was compromise.

Quinnshuffles to the edge of the bed, but before she can unravel herself from the comforter,I’mdragging her across the mattress and into my chest. “Tenmore minutes.”

Withone arm wrapped around her bare shoulders,Ireach over and unlock my phone to drop a text in the group chatIhave with my brothers andDex.

Graham: Are you all meeting up with the girls at Shirley’s tonight?

Patrick: Was planning on it. Why?

Graham: I’ll drive. Let me know what time.

Patrick: You want to come?

Booth: Willingly?

Booth: I think we have a certain little lady to thank for this. And me. Because I am clearly a top matchmaker. First Pat, now you. Dex, watch out, buddy.

Dex: Yeah, not happening.

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