Page 19 of All You Need Is Love

She’d seen him get like this before. His perfectionist tendencies often made failures seem bigger than they really were, and his MO was to give up instead of keep trying. But before she could launch into a round of encouragement, Marshall crouched, getting eye to eye with Noah.

Meanwhile, Brodie and Brogan ran off to show Sophie their latest trick.

“Little man, you’re doing awesome. Do you know how many times it took me to get this right? I didn’t do it perfectly the first time either.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. My dad taught me, but it took lots of practice before I got it right. And when I finally did, I was so proud to show him.” Marshall helped Noah position his arm at his waist, then mimicked the flicking motion. “You might not be able to control how good you are at something, but if you never give up, if you keep practicing, I promise you’ll get it eventually.”

Warmth flooded her chest at the sincerity in his tone and the memory of what he’d shared about his dad yesterday. He hadn’t gone into details, but she’d sensed more to the story—much more. And even though she’d longed to learn more about Marshall St. John, a warning had flashed in her brain, stopping her from asking.

She’d been in dangerous territory then, and she was in dangerous territory now.

Noah tried again, but failed once more. He squinted at the berry on the ground, then moved his gaze to Marshall. “Can I practice by myself for a while?”

“Of course. Just holler if you need us.”

Turning, Marshall picked up Noah and Shannon’s bucket, which was woefully low on berries. “I’ll help you fill this puppy up in no time.” Before she could protest, he’d placed his hand on her lower back and guided her away from Noah.

Shannon shuffled down the path, kicking up bits of dirt. “You were really great with him.” He’d make an amazing father someday. Maybe he and Quinn would have babies together.

The thought soured the sweet berries in her stomach.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. What was the matter with her? But as much as she’d tried to deny it, Shannon was the worst kind of person—the kind with a crush on her sister’s boyfriend.

She had to nip this in the bud, and there was one sure way to do that. Stopping beside a bush bursting with olallieberries, she sat on the ground and busied her hands with picking. “So tell me about you and Quinn.”

“Uh.” Marshall lowered himself next to her, placing the bucket between them. “What do you want to know?”

Nothing. The plink of the berries falling into the metal bucket filled the silence while Shannon concocted a response. “What attracted you to her? Besides the fact she’s gorgeous, of course.”

Her heart inexplicably picked up speed. Why did his answer matter so much? Shannon attempted to steady her trembling fingers as she tugged berries off their thick, woody stems.

“I don’t know.” Marshall made quick work of the harvest.

Down the lane, a chicken clucked. Overhead, a cloud obscured the sun for a brief moment. And still Marshall didn’t give more of an answer.

It was none of her business. She shouldn’t have asked. And yet, much as she didn’t want to know, some part of her wondered. Maybe he saw something in her sister that Shannon herself had missed—a softness, a vulnerability. Something other than the hard edges and full-blown confidence Quinn had displayed all her life.

Well, there was that bit of time after the car accident she and Mom were in when Quinn was nine—the one that had left her with a scar on her face and the need for multiple plastic surgeries. After a small battle with depression, Quinn had refused to let the scar bother her, becoming the person she was today.

Hmm.

Shannon glanced over at him.

He was staring at her, his mouth screwed up on one side. “Shannon…”

“Yeah?”

“Me and Quinn … well, it’s complicated.” Marshall’s mouth opened, then snapped shut again. Sighing, he nudged the mostly full bucket closer to her and stood. “And speaking of Quinn, I’d better go find her.”

He trudged down the lane, leaving Shannon with a twisted stomach. Had she revealed too much in their conversation?

Her hand caught up several berries from the top layer in the bucket and she closed her fist over them, squishing the fruit. Red juice dripped through her fingers into the dirt.

Ugh. She really needed to get her thoughts under control. The focus of the next twenty-four hours especially had to remain on Noah, on tomorrow’s interview … on the things that she could actually have.

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