Quinn
Tomorrow is the big day. I’m so full of nervous energy, I’m like a kid hopped up on candy and ice cream. I can’t stop pacing. Maybe I’ll go for a run to expel some of this anxiety fueled restlessness.
Grabbing my running shoes, I decide to head toward one of my favorite places along the beach. There’s a wide expanse of sand alongside a craggy cliff. The area is great for running, as you can enjoy the sights and sounds of the surf without running on overly wet sand.
Once there, I quickly get in the zone. In no time, I’ve run farther than usual, my mind flicking between concerns for every possible scenario tomorrow and the fact that Jason’s days here are numbered.
I slow down, deciding I should save my energy for my return trip to the car and bend to stretch out my legs momentarily when I feel my left calf tighten. Starting back at a slower pace, to no avail, the cramp in my calf worsens, bordering on painful. Jeez, I probably didn’t drink enough water with all the running around I’ve been doing.Ouch. The pain intensifies, forcing me to limp. Man, why hadn’t I brought my water bottle? At this rate, I’ll make it back to my car by New Year’s.
Out of the blue, I hear my name, but don’t see anyone when I look about. I’m all alone here.Am I hallucinating? I did eat today, didn’t I?
“Quinn, you okay?” I look up to see Jason running over. I have no idea where he came from, but my discomfort must be evident from a mile away.
“Yeah. Just a cramp. I’ll shake it off in a?—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he’s lifted me up into his arms, carrying me toward the bluff above. I assume that’s where he was perched when he saw me limp by. What are the odds?
“This is one of my favorite spots,” he admits. “I like to sit here with mother nature. Get still, when there’s too much commotion in my head. It’s probably why I love Sycamore Mountain so much. She’s all around me there.”
“That’s nice.” I rub my calf instinctively, hoping I can calm the spasming muscles there. “I need to find better ways to quiet my mind. Running used to do that for me. But it’s not the best choice if you haven’t stayed hydrated.”
Jason retrieves a bottle of water from his backpack.
“You’re always prepared to save the day, huh?” I laugh and take a hearty drink. Lowering the bottle, I return his stare.
“Here, let me?” Reaching for my leg, Jason drapes it across his lap. He begins to expertly massage my calf, gently digging his thumb into the tense muscle.Is there anything this man can’t do?
My whole body starts to relax at the feel of his tender ministrations, his warm, muscular palm gliding up and down my leg. It’s otherworldly, the sensation of having this man coasting his fingers higher and higher up my thigh with each pass. So much so, I don’t realize I’ve let out a moan until he shifts underneath me.
He’s hard. Because of me.
Sure, this happened the other night. Okay, a few times. But I assumed it was purely related to the push and pull between us. Not to mention he’s likely a playboy with a large sexual appetite that needs to be fed. I mean, that’s all this is to him, right?
Jason buries his nose in my hair. His voice is soft as it teases the shell of my ear. “You weren’t supposed to happen.”
Was this not supposed to happen because of my brother? Am I too young? Or does he mean no one was supposed to happen while he was here?
What was I thinking getting involved with him? I should’ve protected my heart better, knowing he couldn’t wait to return home to Sycamore Mountain. Because I’m certain I’m about to crash and burn. And firefighter or not, he’ll no longer be here to save me.
Chapter 20
Quinn
The Bathtub Party Day festival has arrived. I can’t believe the big day is finally here. The gods are shining on us today with clear skies and unbelievably warm temperatures for the 5thof December. The early turnout has been better than expected. Guests are mingling about, taking in all the day has to offer.
Walking through the Winter Village, I check in with everyone to verify they have all they need. They’ve really outdone themselves, decorating their stalls in festive winter colors as well as using bath and Christmas items to pull together the theme of the day. Many of the vendors and food trucks have included red and green rubber duckies in their décor. While others offer supplies like soaps, towels, bath salts, and shower caps. I hadn’t thought of that. I type in my notes app on my phone to encourage using those next year.
Even before lunch, the smell of fried food, funnel cake, popcorn, cocoa, and peppermint permeate the air. 78 degrees or not, it smells like a Christmas festival in Magnolia Point.
As I drive my golf cart to the other end of Main Street, I marvel at the large tree covered in ornaments. A few depict animals in bathtubs while multiple rubber ducks wearing Santa hats dangle from branches as well. Clasping my hands together in delight, I make a mental note to personally thank the women’s club for their attention to detail.
As I approach the starting line of the duck race, I see the coup de grâce for the event. The boys from station 803 are on the scene with their fire engine, ladder truck, and ambulance, providing the perfect backdrop.
“Hey, Quinn.”
Looking to my left, I find Corbin and a few volunteers from the shelter with arms full of felines, dogs, as well as my friend, George, the rabbit. “Hey. Look at all of these guys.” I walk over to Henrietta and stroke her little white beard. “I hope you get a forever home today.”
“Everything looks fantastic, Quinn. Regardless of the outcome, I’m really impressed.”
