“I know.” She turns and walks back into the bakery.
I follow.
“I’m overloaded with orders in red, white, and blue.” She laughs, turning back around and slipping her purse over her head. “I have to be back in seven hours.”
Locks of hair spill out of her ponytail, and she doesn’t look the least bit overworked. Her big, brown eyes gleam fresh and happy.
I clear my throat. “Want a…a ride?” I jerk my thumb to the door and my car parked on the other side of it.
She hesitates. “I’m going to Weston.”
My gaze falters, but I nod to hide it. If she had a crush, like she said she did that night on my bed, then wouldn’t she like to be where I am? I’m in her damn house, for Christ’s sake.
“It’s okay,” I say instead. “I could use the drive.”
She tosses a cloth into the laundry bag. “Thanks.”
Walking back out the door, I head for the driver’s side while she locks up.
Climbing into the passenger’s seat, she buckles up. Her scent fills her brother’s car, and I can’t help but look at her.
“Don’t tell me I look tired, okay?” she says, meeting my eyes.
I tear my gaze away, starting the car. “You look content.”
Backing out of the alley, I head to Weston and roll down the windows. She tilts her head back, her eyes turned outside, watching the houses and businesses give way to trees.
Her hair blows across her neck, and I keep glancing at how pretty she looks.
“So,” I say, trying to think about anything else. “Did you know Farrow Kelly bought my house?”
Her gaze flashes to mine, and I see the amusement on her face. “You thought I bought it.”
“And you let me think it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, laughing. “It bought me time,” she muses. “I did think about it. For a few seconds. But I needed space. Real space.”
“Yeah, I know.” I concede. “You don’t have to explain.”
I get it. Her family will show up in Weston uninvited and unexpected just as much as they would in the Falls, but it’s not about getting away from them. It’s about finding something new. An unfamiliar environment is what everyone needs.
Before all they want is to come back home.
Quinn opens the glove compartment, finding some tissues, but I watch a string of condoms spill out.
I widen my eyes.
She holds them up, and I debate for a second.
This is Jared’s car. He wouldn’t still be using condoms with his wife, would he? Why does he have them in here?
She smirks, stuffing them back in the glove compartment. “I think Hawke used the car last,” she jokes. “I’m told he lost his virginity in here, actually.”
“Good.”
She casts her surprised eyes on me.
“I just didn’t want you to think they were mine,” I admit.
