“No. But I’d love to see her bringing the same festive joy to people this Christmas it always brought me. Have you got a minute?” Charlie and I stroll over to the trolley, and I fill him in on my plans for the Bathtub Party festivities. “With the festival happening on December 5th, I hope to make it the unofficial start of the holiday season in Magnolia Point. We’ll have the Winter Village set up with vendors, food trucks and concessions there, plus the tree lighting.”
“That’s incredible, Quinn. Sounds like you’ve worked really hard on this.”
“I have. I’m honored my father is trusting me with such an important task. I don’t want to let Magnolia Point down.”
“Well, you’ve convinced me. I’ll give it my best shot to have the trolley up and running for the big day. I look forward to seeing all of your hard work come together.”
I practically throw myself at this dear old man. I had no idea how important this was until I saw it sitting in his driveway. But it’s been a staple in this town for so long, especially around the holidays. Hopefully, we can lure many new faces to our seaside town by adding the trolley to the brochures and website.
* * *
The following week, I’m at the station as the next set of photoshoots come to a wrap. Everything has gone so well. I honestly couldn’t have asked for more. Jason’s been on duty here with John and Layton as the photographer snapped photos of Baxter, Mary, and Pete. Unlike the first shoot, he’s actually come outside to watch for the majority of the afternoon.
I stroll over to Jason, feeling a little over-confident. My exuberance making me brave. Playfully placing my palm on his chest, I nearly jump at the jolt of electricity that shoots through me. I manage to squeak out, “Come on, that wasn’t so bad. Just say yes, so we can make you Mr. December.”
He immediately stiffens. “Are you deaf? I said no.” He shoves my hand away as if it’s molten lava. “Back the fuck off,” he snaps.
In an instant, Layton has taken a few thunderous steps toward Jason, looking homicidal. “Now listen, that’s entirely uncalled for?—”
“No, Layton,” I interrupt. “It’s okay.” Try as I might, my body betrays my hurt, the words coming out broken, my lips quivering. “He’s right. He’s made his stance clear, and I had no right to push him.” As if the tortured cadence of my voice isn’t bad enough, my limbs start to tremble. I have to get out of here. “I need to go. Call me if you need anything.”
“Quinn, I?—”
Without staying long enough for Jason to finish his sentence, I rapidly gather my things and make it to the car, hoping I’ll make it home before falling apart. There’s no way I’m allowing him to see me cry.
Once home, I curl into a ball on my couch and allow the tears to fall. I completely understand why he’s bitter. He doesn’t want to be here. And unlike the effect he has on me, I’m merely a reminder of all the pain he’s suffered.
Yet, it’s no excuse. He didn’t have to behave that way. Swiping my tears away, I lift my chin and try to focus on the things I can control. I have a job to do. If only it didn’t have to come down to this.
Constantly chasing one icy Mr. December.
Jason
Lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, I can’t seem to rid my mind of the hurt look on Quinn’s face. Layton gave me an earful about the work she’s doing to repair the reputation of this fire department, raising funds, supporting the animal shelter, and the whole damn town, for that matter. Regardless of his TED Talk, I knew it was wrong.
I’d never tolerate any of my firefighter brothers in Sycamore treating someone that way. So why would I behave that way toward anyone here? None of this is her fault. Is it purely her last name that’s affecting me? Or is it that I’m increasingly more annoyed by this insane attraction I feel whenever she’s around? Between her enticing scent and the frisson of lust her hand on my chest evoked, I felt unhinged.
Bolting out of bed, I rationalize that while it may be late, it’s not late enough I can’t do the right thing. After messaging Layton for Quinn’s address, explaining I need to apologize in person, I head for her apartment. Once I arrive, I take a cleansing breath, shove my hands in my jean pockets, and walk to her door. I should’ve rehearsed what to say.
Just be honest, jackass.
I’ve barely knocked once before the door swings wide, and Ian storms out onto the porch. And he’s hot.
“Listen, dickwad, it’s clear you’re holding on to years of rage. But take that shit out on me, not her.” He thrusts his thumb toward his chest. “My sister’s never hurt a soul. If you ever upset her again, I’ll fucking end you. Got it?”
But before I can answer him, he storms off, leaving me to look up into Nigel’s disapproving eyes. Had word traveled fast enough that her whole family needed to console her? Because deep down, I don’t believe Quinn would’ve told anyone. Except maybe her friend, Callie.
Nigel comes closer. “She can’t come to the door right now. We came by to bring her dinner for her birthday and could tell she’d been crying. Once Ian spoke with a few of the guys at the station… well, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you’re better than this, Jason.”
Fuck! Her birthday?
“Yes, sir. I’m really sorry. I know she’s only trying to do her job. I want to apologize. Could you please tell her I came by?”
With a curt nod, her father shuts the door.
Hell, it was bad enough the way I snapped at her. But on her fucking birthday.Can I be a bigger asshole?
I need to put this anger behind me once and for all. Because lashing out isn’t hurting the ones who caused me pain. Only that beautiful, sweet, innocent girl… Scratch that, beautiful, sweet, innocent woman. A woman that’s too young and kind for the likes of me.
