She smiled in response. Lyle was really great at the bigger projects.
Even as she glanced over her packed schedule, she couldn’t help but think that the engagement party would be magical now that she and Quinton had revealed their feelings for one another. Each day, her excitement to be married to him grew. The fact that he wanted to be a father only added to his overall allure. She was so in love, and she didn’t want that to ever change.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Quinton
Quinton let out his breath and hit the golf ball, sending it sailing 250 yards to the green. The misty afternoon didn’t deter him from golf. If he waited for his schedule to align with a sunny day in Seattle, he’d only get to golf once a month.
“Looks like you figured out that hitch in your backswing,” Dad said from the golf cart. His ball was in the sand trap up ahead.
“I took private lessons.”
“They paid off.”
Talking with his dad about golf was easier than talking about all the things they should talk about. Today wasn’t about delving into the man’s psychological problems or laying out his sins. It was just about hanging out, mending fences, and getting over awkwardness.
What Quinton had learned over time was that the dad he knew from childhood was skewed by hero worship. What kid didn’t look up to their father, even if their father was a slouch? When Quinn was little, Richard Wilaby was engaged as a parent, the kind that reviewed spelling words and took the boys to amusement parks. The three of them would run around like kids.
Maybe his dad hadn’t started growing up until his fifties.
In a way, Dad’s childish behavior had made Quinn grow up faster. Maybe that was why he’d recognized his other half so young, falling for Ginny when he was barely in his twenties. It was the day before their engagement party, and he was nervous about telling her he was in love with her. He’d rehearsed several speeches. Some of them included the fact that he’d loved her for over a decade, and some of them did not. He wasn’t sure if it would creep her out to know he’d been waiting for her to come back, but his heart was so full of that love that he had to let some of it out. The engagement party was the perfect time. He could whisper it while they danced together or announce it in a toast. His gut told him to let the moment organically arrive, but he’d done that for so long and hadn’t said a word.
A light beep drew his attention, and a stunning blonde in a short pink skirt pulled the snack cart alongside the fairway. “Would you gentlemen like something to drink?” She hopped out of the cart, showing off her tanned legs, and lifted the side of the cart to reveal a variety of beers and sodas.
“I’ll have a Coke,” said Dad.
Quinn watched his dad during the exchange. A woman that pretty would normally have had him salivating and flirting. He handed over his money and took the drink, his eyes on the green and his thoughts probably on his next shot.
A portion of the distrust Quinn carried around his father dripped away. Dad could say he wanted to change, but until Quinn saw the evidence, he didn’t quite believe him.
Quinn bought a bottle of water.
Dad drove off without waiting to watch the woman close her cart and pull away—another grown-up move. “So, what are you working on these days?” Dad asked.
Quinn threw his elbow over the back of the seat. Dad liked to take the turns too fast. “I haven’t named the new coaster yet.”
“Names are tricky.” Dad smiled. “I remember your granddad stressing over the name of the parks like it was life or death.”
“It can be. No one wants to ride The Marshmallow or The Lipstick Tube.”
Dad snickered. He stopped the cart and reached for his sand wedge. “Maybe the name is in the design. What makes it special?”
Quinn thought for a moment. “The rollover. Designing the hydraulics was insane. The only company with the technology to make them work is Stevenson’s, and we’re pushing it with them. Getting the inspectors to sign off on it will be difficult, because it’s unlike anything they’ve ever seen.”
“You’re a credit to your art, son.”
Quinn glowed. His life was falling into place. He had the girl. He had the job. And he might even have his father back. What could go wrong?
His phone rang. A feeling of having tempted fate tickled the back of his neck. He scratched it away and checked the caller ID. “Hi, Jamon.”
“Hi. Listen, I got in touch with that pharmaceutical chemist I was telling you about. He’s interested in the product. Really interested.”
Shoot. He’d forgotten to tell his neighbor not to say anything. After Ginny got upset about the possible leak of intellectual property, he’d kissed her and then brain-dumped the beginning of their date. This one was on him. “That’s great.”
“I’m going to send you his information so you can get in touch with him.”
“Thanks. I’ll pass it on to Ginny. It’s really her project.” And she’d made it clear that he wasn’t to get involved. He wasn’t sure what to do.
