“If you don’t mind me asking what happened?”
Quinn’s smile faded. The expression on Autumn’s face told her that the woman regretted asking. Quinn tried to bring her smile back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“We were engaged and buying a house together. I thought she was the love of my life. But I came home early and found her in bed with someone else.”
Autumn’s eyebrows shot to her hairline.
“She swore it was a one-time thing. Just nerves before our big day. I had my doubts, but I wanted so badly for that to be true.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t true?” Autumn asked, her voice soft.
“No. She ended up calling off the engagement and buying the house we had found together with this new woman.”
Quinn allowed her shoulders to slump. She hadn’t spoken about Rory with much of anyone besides Madison. Quinn felt warmth as Autumn wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“You deserved better than that,” Autumn said with a sureness that felt so tangible Quinn could almost reach out and touch her words.
“You’re going to find someone who appreciates what a genuine sweet soul you are. Hell, you’ll probably meet her at this bar you’re about to open. I’m sure every lesbian in WaterColor will come through your doors at some point.”
Quinn felt a flutter in her heart. Something about Autumn’s words woke part of her up. A part of her that had been asleep since things ended with Rory. But looking at Autumn made that part of her stir to life once more.
“I don’t know about all of that. What I do know is that once this bar is opened and I’m no longer your client, I’m going to ask you out on a date.”
The words had come from the very depth of Quinn’s soul. She meant them with every fiber of her being. From the expression on Autumn’s face, Quinn knew she had taken the woman off guard. Autumn went to open her mouth in protest, but Quinn spoke again cutting her off.
“I’ll respect your boundaries. While you’re working on this project, I’ll be all business. But once the project is over, I want to ask you out on a date. Whether you say yes, is totally up to you.”
Quinn wasn’t completely sure where the words or her confidence was coming from. Autumn’s face showed her complete surprise. Quinn couldn’t help noticing that Autumn was blushing again.
“Well. I guess we’ll see,” Autumn chuckled.
Quinn just flashed a smirk at her and winked. She was pretty sure that Autumn either really liked the move or was completely over her bullshit. Quinn wouldn’t know for certain until after the bar opened. The waves of the ocean were almost a perfect mimicking of her own feelings. Quinn’s feelings had surged forward, and not she couldn’t believe that she had said all of those things out loud. Had she really just promised to ask Autumn out? She definitely had.
Quinn allowed her eyes to wander back to Autumn. She was surprised when she found the woman eyeing her as well. Autumn smiled, her lips curving to reveal her perfect teeth. Quinn wondered what those lips would taste like. Autumn’s eyes had turned an even deeper shade of blue in the fading daylight. Who was this woman? Autumn was so warm and yet so uniquely put together. It was almost unnerving how unflappable she was.
“Can I ask you a strange question?” Quinn immediately regretted opening her mouth.
“Sure,” Autumn asked. Her blue eyes met Quinn’s with suspicion.
“How are you so…” Quinn trailed off trying to find the exact right wording.
“Composed. How are you so composed all the time?” Quinn asked nervously.
Autumn burst into a fit of laughter. Quinn startled, jolted by the sound.
“Sorry,” Autumn covered her mouth with a hand.
“That was just such a funny way to ask that question. And you should have seen the look on your face,” Autumn teased.
“I guess I’m glad you aren’t offended,” Quinn admitted.
“I’m not offended. And you’re right. I am composed. My parents raised me to be… well as perfect as possible. Grace under pressure. Composed and always perfectly poised. So, I am.”
“Did you ever have a chance to be a kid? Or like non-perfect?” Quinn asked. She watched as Autumn studied her.
“Not really. My parents were older when they had me. My mother was late thirties. My dad was early forties. They’d built their businesses, and a kid was the next box to check. So here I am. But neither of them had much time for me to be interested in typical kid things. I was going to business deals with my mom when I could barely speak. And I knew that there was a way that I was supposed to behave.”
“That seems like a lot of pressure for a kid,” Quinn offered a warm smile.
