“Quinn!”
I growl under my breath.Dammit.
That was stupid of me, but if he wanted to hurt me, I think he would’ve done it by now.
Grabbing the door, I slam it closed and lock it before I run back through the kitchen.
It’s time to bring in Hawke. I’ve got a stalker, possibly two if I count the black Dodge, and I don’t want to die because I was stubborn.
I’m not letting him take over, though. I’ll remind him that I’m older.
Like that will help.
Jogging to Hailey, I catch the box on top of the stack just before it topples and let her resecure the straps holding everything down.
Taking the container, I lock everything else in place, get into the passenger side, and lay the box on my lap as we jet off to the park.
Doing a quick mental check, I remember all the locks I secured. He won’t be able to get into the tower.
But still… I take Hailey or Noel back with me over the next couple of hours—just to be safe—as we make several trips to bring food to our booth in the park. Other vendors set up, and a few food trucks arrive.
I gaze longingly at them. A food truck… Great for offsite events like today, or a mobile, second location. It could be at the university. Or off the highway, en route to the summer camp and hiking trails.
I shake my head. I’ll never live long enough to make all these dreams come true. Just concentrate on making Frosted a success and my home livable, I tell myself. For a few years, at least.
I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t have to rush. I never should’ve.
Last night drifts through my head again, and I’m breathless.
I liked it.
I loved it.
But it doesn’t feel like I thought it would. Or rather, I don’t feel like I thought I would. It was no use rushing to be someone he’d want, only to become someone I didn’t love. I missed all the milestones I should’ve had in order to get here, and now that I have my own place, I want more.
For me.
Just for me.
I lock up my shop one last time as Hailey takes her car, and I walk my bike out of the alley and toward the street. It’s almost ten in the morning, the sun beating down already. I dig out Lucas’s hat and pull it on, weaving my bicycle through the thick crowd lining both sides of High Street.
He could be here. Somewhere.
Deacon.
The parade is just kicking off, the marching band spilling festive notes into the air and everyone is covered in color. Firecrackers go off, a few teenagers jumping around and laughing.
Inching up on my tiptoes, I spot Madoc and Fallon sitting on the back of a classic convertible, my brother beaming, waving, and shouting joyously at friends he sees in the crowd. Fallon, on the other hand, always looks like she’ssuffering through a calculus class. I laugh to myself. She’s a good sport with the whole public profile aspect of her husband being a mayor. She found the trick to survival, though. Focus on the kids. She smiles and waves at all of the little ones, taking balls from a box on the back seat and tossing them to the children.
I see another blond head, my heart skipping a beat, until I realize it’s just Hunter. Kade is next to him. They breeze past, walking their dog, Tank, and tossing T-shirts into the crowd to promote their frat, while A.J. rides Dylan’s back as she and Aro play rebel soldiers play-fighting Hawke—the British redcoat. They look like the three stooges, antagonizing and fake-kicking each other’s butts.
I don’t find Lucas in the crowd.
A.J. tosses candy to the spectators, while James does the same from his ATV. Should he be riding that on the street?
I find my way to Jax and Juliet who stand on the sidelines with one of Aro’s siblings whom they foster.
“Isn’t that like a safety hazard?” I ask, motioning to my ten-year-old nephew on his four-wheeler.
