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Through His Eyes Page 13


  “Yeah.” I rush out of the Kinsley’s room and into Quinn’s. She has two nightstands and a dresser. She didn’t specify which top drawer, so I open her dresser drawers first but don’t find anything aside from some shirts and her pajamas. I move to the nightstand on the side of the bed she sleeps on and open the top drawer, finding nothing but her underwear in there. I’m about to close it, when I spot something. Grabbing it out of the drawer, I examine it for a moment. It’s rose gold and has a power button, but when I press it, it doesn’t turn on. It has a thick handle and a silicone top to it. It almost looks like something a doctor uses to check your ears.

  “Lachlan!” Quinn yells out.

  “Coming!” Uncertain if this is it, I check her other nightstand just to be sure, and when I only find a couple baby photos of Kinsley in the drawer, I figure this must be it.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” Willow asks, stepping out of her room.

  “Kinsley isn’t feeling well,” I tell her, walking toward Kinsley’s room. “Quinn is in there with her.”

  “Oh, no! Let us know if she needs anything.”

  “Will do.”

  When I get inside Kinsley’s room, Quinn is removing her soiled clothes. “Here ya go.” I hand her the thermometer. “I couldn’t get it to turn on.” I shrug. “Thermometers have gotten a whole lot more techy since I was a kid.”

  Quinn laughs and turns to grab it. When she spots it in my hand, she jumps to her feet, her entire face glowing red. “Oh my God!” she shrieks. “That’s…that’s not a thermometer.” She snatches it from my hand. “I said the top drawer in the kitchen, not my bedroom!”

  “Umm…” I say, having no idea why she’s freaking out right now. “You didn’t specify, actually. I just assumed.” And then it hits me. Why is she blushing like I just walked in on her…

  “What is that thing?” I ask, trying to get another look at it.

  “Can you just go grab the thermometer, please? I’m going to get Kinsley bathed, and I need to change her sheets.”

  “Okay, want me to put that back?” I nod toward the not-thermometer.

  “No!” she screeches. “I will.”

  Doing as she says, I find the correct thermometer, and while I can now recognize it as the actual thermometer, the item I grabbed is very similar in size and shape. The only major differences are the color and there’s a screen on this one. After I give Quinn the correct thermometer, I grab Kinsley’s soiled clothes and sheets and bring them down to the washer and turn it on. Then, I find the linen closet and locate some fresh sheets so I can make her bed. By the time I’m done, Kinsley and Quinn are coming back into her room.

  “How you feeling?” I ask Kinsley who tries, and fails, to smile.

  “I don’t feel so well,” she admits. “Can I go back to sleep, Mommy?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in my bed?” Quinn asks.

  “You know I like my own bed.” Kinsley pouts.

  “I know,” Quinn tells her. “Here’s the trash can in case you wake up again, and if you need me, just call out and I’ll come running.”

  “Okay.” Kinsley lies down and Quinn gives her a kiss on her cheek. “Will I able to go to school Monday?”

  “Probably not,” Quinn says with a frown. “But we’ll see.”

  “Fine.” Kinsley huffs and rolls over.

  “Night, Mini-Q,” I say. She rolls back over and gives me a small smile.

  “Night, Lach.”

  When we step out of her room, Quinn walks next door to her room, and I follow. “Thank you for changing her bed,” she says, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head. “I just need to change real quick. I don’t know if any throw up got on me, but just in case.” She sticks her tongue out and scrunches her nose.

  “Not a fan?” I laugh.

  “I hate throw up. Blood, I can handle just fine. But throw up.” She mock shivers, then pulls a new shirt over her head. “I can’t handle it, like at all.”

  “I should probably get going,” I tell her, and she nods.

  “Okay.” She cuts across the room and encircles her arms around my neck. “Seriously, thank you.” She presses her mouth to mine. “Where did you put the sheets? I need to throw them in the washer.”

  “Already in there,” I say, giving her another kiss.

  “Mmm.” She moans. “A man who does well under pressure, changes puked-on sheets without being asked, and puts them in the washer. I feel like I’ve won the lottery.” She giggles, and the sound goes straight to my chest.

  “Speaking of which, what was that thermometer-looking thing I gave you by mistake?” When her cheeks stain pink again, my mind goes straight to the gutter. “Wait a second!” I laugh, removing her arms from around my neck and walking over to the nightstand.

  “It’s not in there!” she exclaims. “I left it in the bathroom.”

  “Was that… a vibrator?”

  “Lachlan, stop!” she screeches, and I laugh harder.

  “I’ve seen vibrators before and none of them looked like that. That was like some high-tech shit.”

  “It’s a clitoral stimulator,” she says matter-of-factly. When my lips upturn into a grin, she huffs. “When you’re a single mom, and your pussy may as well be a graveyard, you have to bring in the big guns.”

  “A graveyard?” I ask, slightly turned on that she just said pussy.

  “You know…because it hasn’t gotten any action in so long, it might as well be dead.”

  I bark out a laugh at that, shaking my head. “You’re fucking nuts.” Then I think of something. “Have you used it since we started…” I waggle my eyebrows.

  “No,” she says pointedly.

  “Damn right, you haven’t. Because that techy shit can’t compare to the orgasms I give you.”

  Quinn laughs. “That techy shit can make me come in under a minute.” She raises her brows.

  “Challenge accepted.” I pick her up by her ass and throw her onto the bed., peeling off her pants and underwear. Once she’s completely bare to me, I give her a smirk. “Start counting now.”

  * * *

  “Lachlan…Lachlan, you have to wake up,” Quinn whispers. I glance around the room, taking in my surroundings. I’m at her place, in her room, in her bed. We must’ve fallen asleep. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I check the time. It’s five in the morning.

  “We fell asleep,” she says softly. “You have to go before Kinsley wakes up.”

  Nodding in understanding, I give her a kiss on her cheek, then roll out of bed, throwing on my shirt and jeans, then slipping on my shoes.

  “I’ll walk you out,” she offers, but I shake my head.

  “No, go back to sleep.” I lean over the bed and give her a kiss to her forehead. “Want to do something later?”

  Her face lights up with a bright smile. “Yeah.” But then she frowns. “Actually, no. Kinsley will most likely wake up still sick.”

  “How about I go home, shower and change, and then come back with breakfast? We can rent some movies and make it a lazy day so she can rest.”

  “That sounds perfect,” she says, pulling me back down to her for a kiss.

  A couple hours later, I return with breakfast from a deli nearby. Kinsley and Quinn are both up, and Kinsley is lying on the couch, looking like someone told her that her favorite puppy has been killed.

  “You okay, Mini-Q?”

  “I feel blah,” she says. “Mommy said you’re going to watch movies with me. Can I pick it out?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.” She grants me a bright smile that’s identical to her mother’s. “I want to watch Mary Poppins.” I have no clue who Mary Poppins is, but I tell her that sounds great. After Quinn gets the food sorted and we eat, we spend the entire rest of the day watching movie after movie together. In between, the girls share their likes and dislikes. They tell me about the trips they’ve taken and want to take. I share with them a little bit about my family and friends. About my time i
n Boston. We have lunch and dinner together.

  It’s such a simple kind of day. We didn’t really do anything, yet at the same time, it’s also absolutely perfect. A day I hope to repeat many more times in the future.

  * * *

  I’ve just finished a two-hour-long session and am stretching my arms over my head, when Jax walks through my door. “Hey man, got a minute?”

  “What’s up?” I stand and walk to the back to get a drink.

  “I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

  Glancing at my phone, I see it’s a quarter to five. I don’t have any more clients scheduled, so unless someone walks in, in the next fifteen minutes, I’m done for the day. It’s Saturday, so I’m off tomorrow, and looking forward to hanging out with Quinn and Kinsley.

  This last week I’ve been hanging out at Quinn’s place every second I’m not working or sleeping. I never spend the night, but we have dinner together if I’m off early enough, or dessert, if I get there after dinner. After Kinsley goes to bed, we hang out on the couch, talking, and eventually make our way to Quinn’s room, where we make out like teenagers, but never take things further. I’ve learned Quinn is submissive by nature until I coax her and make her feel comfortable enough to take charge, then she spreads her wings and flies. I know it’s because of her ex. He probably got off on clipping Quinn’s wings instead of letting her fly high. I can tell she’s waiting for me to take things to the next level sexually, but I’m not going to do so until I know she trusts me—trusts what we have. So, every night after I’ve made sure she’s satisfied, I kiss her goodnight and go home.

  Thankfully, Shea has returned back to Ireland with Riley, so I don’t have to worry about Quinn bumping into her, or Shea causing any problems.

  I sit on the couch and shoot a text to Quinn to see if she wants me to pick up take out on my way over. Now that Kinsley is feeling better, I’m thinking we can order pizza or something. We’ve been eating healthy while she’s been sick, mostly soup and foods she won’t throw up. She was home from school through Thursday with the sitter, but went back to school yesterday, and was back to her usual self in time for her soccer game this morning. Her mom only let her play half the time, which bummed Mini-Q, but her scoring a goal during her time made up for it.

  Jax sits next to me. “Willow and I have decided to move out of the townhouse.” My head snaps up. They’re moving? Is Quinn moving too?

  “Quinn’s staying,” he says, answering my thoughts. “She’s been looking for a place, but she can’t afford anything in Kinsley’s school zone.”

  “She hasn’t mentioned anything to me about moving.” We’ve talked about her work, mine, Kinsley, a lot about her past, but thinking about it, we don’t ever discuss the future.

  “She probably didn’t want to say anything until she found a place. We bought the townhouse during the recession and fixed it up. It’s now paid off, thanks to Quinn who insisted on paying it off when she sold her ex’s condo and moved back in with us. She’s been through enough. It doesn’t make sense for her to have to find another place and switch Kinsley to a new school that might not be in a good area, when Willow and I can live anywhere.” Jax shrugs like it’s no big deal, and it makes me wonder something.

  “Why didn’t you guys get Quinn away from that asshole?” My question isn’t meant to come out as an accusation, but even to my own ears, I hear the blame dripping from my words.

  Jax sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I know she was with him for four years, but it feels like it all happened so fast.” He exhales harshly. “One minute she was dating him and the next she was living with him. He was rarely home, and when he was gone, she would come over. She would never complain or say anything bad about him. Her smile never faltered.” He looks at me dead in the eyes. “I didn’t see it, and I hate myself every day for it. I thought she was just busy doing her own thing. I should’ve looked deeper, asked more questions. It wasn’t until her wedding when I knew something was wrong.”

  “What happened at her wedding?”

  “Quinn is several years younger than us. She got her first tattoo at sixteen. I shouldn’t have let her, but…” He shrugs, and I nod. We’re tattoo artists. “She walked down the aisle in this hideous, frumpy-looking dress, man. It was white and expensive, but it wasn’t Quinn. It covered every tattoo on her body.” He curses under his breath. “She was proud of her tattoos before she met him. She used to wear clothes that showed them off. I used to yell at her all the time to put on more clothes.” He laughs. “But she wouldn’t listen. She lived in cut-off jean shorts and tiny shirts. An older brother’s nightmare. When Celeste asked her why her dress covered them all up, she said she’s older now and they look immature and trashy. She should’ve been beaming at her wedding, but she looked awkward and nervous.”

  “She’s not proud of them now,” I tell him. “Her tattoos…You know she’s only gotten one tattoo since she’s been with him? And it says, ‘this too shall pass.’”

  “Yeah, Gage tattooed that one. I don’t think she wanted us to know, but Gage was worried about her. They used to be good friends. She wouldn’t discuss anything with us. When she gave up her photography business to stay home, I could tell she was devastated, but she made excuses, saying it was for the best because they planned to start a family, and she wanted to be home with their kids. Looking back, that’s all those four years with him were…one excuse after the next.”

  “I’ve never hated someone so much in my life,” I admit. “Every time she questions herself or gets nervous. Every time she makes a comment about being fat or ugly. I want him to rise from the dead, so I can slowly murder him all over again.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just glad he died before finding out about Kinsley. I can’t even imagine what would’ve happened if she had to raise a baby with him. She said she thought about running, but the guy was loaded. He would’ve found her and fucked her over.”

  “Hey!” Willow exclaims, joining Jax on the couch. “What’re you guys talking about?”

  “Us moving this weekend.” Jax throws his arm over Willow’s shoulders and pulls her into his side. “We found a nice two bedroom condo and are renting to buy.” Jax tells me. “We want to make sure it’s what we want before we commit.”

  “Nice, need any help moving?”

  “That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. Quinn is going to throw a fit when she learns we’re moving, so we aren’t going to tell her.”

  “So, you’re what? Going to move out while she’s gone?” I wince, imagining how pissed Quinn is going to be when she comes home and finds all their stuff gone.

  “I know it sounds bad, but trust me, it’s the only way. Otherwise, she’ll try to move out first,” Jax says.

  “And let me guess…you want to use me as a distraction to keep her busy tomorrow while you move your stuff out.”

  “Bingo,” Willow chimes in. “You guys are practically inseparable anyway.”

  “Fine, but when this shit creeps down, you better let her know, you made me.” Jax and Willow both laugh.

  When Quinn shoots me a message, saying Kinsley wants to get a pumpkin to decorate, an idea forms. “I think I can actually give you tonight and tomorrow,” I tell them. “I’ll text you in a little bit and let you know for sure.”

  Sixteen

  Quinn

  “Are you going to tell us where we’re going?” I ask Lachlan for the fourth time in twenty minutes, well aware I sound like my five year old, but too nosey and nervous to care. When Lachlan texted and asked if I trusted him enough to let him take us away, I didn’t even have to think about it. I trust Lachlan with everything in me. And I loved that he was including my daughter. So, I packed Kinsley and me a bag, texted Jax to let him know we wouldn’t be home tonight so he wouldn’t worry, and waited for Lachlan to go home and get his stuff and then come to my house. He insisted on driving so I could relax, and I didn’t argue.

  “Nope,” he says for the fourth time. “You’ll see
when we get there.”

  “Mommy,” Kinsley says, looking up from her coloring book. “Can Lachlan come to my birthday party?”

  “Your birthday is coming up?” Lachlan asks.

  “Yep!” Kinsley squeals. “I was born on Halloween!”

  “When’s her birthday party?” he asks, his eyes darting from the road to me.

  “Next Sunday,” I tell him. “We always do it the weekend before Halloween, so it doesn’t interfere with trick-or-treating.”

  “How long have you known about it?”

  I’m not sure where he’s going with this… “Invitations went out a few weeks ago.”

  “You haven’t once mentioned it.”

  “It’s not really a big deal.” I shrug. “It’s usually just her friends from school and family.”

  He nods once. “Got it.”

  When he goes quiet, I think about how I worded what I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think you would be interested in going to a child’s birthday party. I’m sure there are tons of adult parties going on with it being the weekend before Halloween.” Lachlan’s jaw ticks, and the act brings back memories of when Rick would get mad at me.

  “Lachlan,” I say softly, trying to keep my composure. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, please?” This is when Rick would yell at me, blame me, and call me names. Mentally, I prepare myself for it, so I’m shocked when Lachlan takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips, giving each of my knuckles a kiss. We don’t show a lot of affection in front of Kinsley, but a few days ago when she asked if Lachlan was my boyfriend, we told her he was, and she seemed okay with it. I have no clue how this is all supposed to work, so I’m just going with my gut and taking it one day at a time.

  “We’ll talk later,” he says.

  “But…” I need to know what I did, so I can make it better.

  “Not now,” he insists, his eyes darting back to Kinsley. “I promise we’ll talk later.” He gives me a comforting smile that calms my nerves.

  The rest of the drive is spent with Kinsley telling Lachlan all about her upcoming party, who’s going, what the theme is, and what she’s going to be for Halloween. He listens intently to every word she says, and responds as if whatever she’s talking about is the most important thing he’s ever heard. A little over an hour later, we’re pulling up to what I assume is our destination. The sign reads: Westchester Bed and Breakfast.