Page 50 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

Hands on my cheeks, Polk brings my face to his, our breaths mingling, his nose grazing mine, his eyes so earnest and filled with so much emotion. “I love you, Quinn.”

“I love you too, Bent, so, so much.” I inhale a shaky breath, “Thank you for the charity run.” I can’t imagine how many people we can help with an organization like that.

His defeated sigh is unexpected. “It wasn’t me.” He mumbles, but I hear him clear enough. “It was Ford’s idea.”

I kiss him soundly, giving him everything I’ve got in that kiss. A simple touch of flesh and the promise of a lifetime. “You are such an amazing man.”

“I’m your man.” One more kiss, he drops his arms from around my waist, already knowing what I’m gonna do, accepting every part of me.

Walking around the table, I stop behind Ford, sling my arms around his neck, and bend down to whisper, “Thank you, friend.”

His hand reaches up to clasp mine, “Thank you for not giving up on me.” Done with emotional shit because it makes me feel icky, I pinch his cheek and scoot away before he can grab me.

“Buck!” Wheat calls from behind the bar. “Someone’s at the gate for you.”

Buchanan is not a small man. He’s like 6’3” and probably over 200 pounds of muscle. But man, can that guy move fast. He’s up out of his chair and rushing to the front door with more excitement than my kids possess when a new update for their video games comes out.

“Send her in! Send her in!”

We wait with bated breath for Buchanan’s mystery woman to walk through the doors. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little disappointed. She’s pretty as far as I can tell, but I don’t see what the fuss is all about. Long dark hair in braided pigtails, enough makeup that even my diminished vision can see, decent tits, rail thin, short skirt, tight top, hooker heels. Fucking men.

Buchanan slides an arm around her tiny waist, and when I don’t see it reappear, I know he’s grabbing her ass. Proud grin, Buchanan announces, “I’d like you all to meet The Abyss.” I wish I had a nickel for every time one of these yahoos says something so ridiculous that anyone nearby is unable to articulate a response because of the ridiculousness. I’d be fucking loaded!

“Why?” “What?” “The fuck?”

“Boy.” Madison sighs, but I know that tone. I’ve used it myself a ton. Raising boys, no matter how old they are, is exhausting. “Explain.”

“Ok.” I snicker. Buchanan says it like he doesn’t understand why an explanation would be needed. “Her name is Shirley, which makes it sound like she’s super old, but she’s only 26. She’s our new lobbyist.”

“Uh-huh,” Madison encourages him to continue. When Buck remains silent, Madison snaps, “The Abyss?”

“Oh, right.” Buck laughs and he’s the only one. “Her mouth is like the abyss. A deep bottomless cavern of endless orgasmic pleasure.” So poetic…and weird.

Betty stands up so fast her chair flies back and topples over. She grabs an empty glass and chucks it at Buck. He dodges it easily. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you be normal?” Audrey must spend a lot of time with her, because Betty shakes her own fists of fury and stomps her foot before spinning quickly and stomping in the direction of the kitchen.

“Because I’m your kid.” That was the wrong answer. A banshee cry rends the air, and Betty comes flying back across the room. Madison intercepts her, probably saving his son’s life.

Ford, of all people, laughs, “Brother, you are a special kind of stupid.”

Quinn 26.

I’m giddy. Super, totally, nerd-girling giddy. Spreadsheets. Office supplies. File folders. Thank God Polk has the stamina of a Greek God because I’ve been fucking hornier than hell setting up this charity.

Ok, wait a minute. Let me take a step back and be less creepy. Uh…the purpose of the charity is in no way sexually pleasing. It’s the organization and brand-new pens and notebooks and reams of paper…sweet mother of God.

“POLK!”

“WOMAN! It’s a fucking label maker! And I’m not a machine!”

I love him. “Fine. I’ll just find my actual machines—”

“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!” My nipples ache at the sound of him stomping up the steps. Mama’s gonna get some…maybe I can convince him to fuck me while I collate. Dammit! The doorbell rings and my vagina weeps when his footsteps retreat. So close. The boys are at Joe’s.

“Quinn.” My head snaps up like a meerkat, his tone is…off. I save my progress, grab my phone and make my way downstairs.

“Who is it?” I pivot at the bottom of the stairs and come to an abrupt stop. Staring back at me with undisguised disgust are the two people responsible for my being on this planet. I heavea heavy sigh and force myself to join Polk at the door. “Mom. Dad.”

My mom glares at Polk, then at me. “Are you going to invite us in?”

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