Through His Eyes Read online

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” He gives me a perplexed look. “She’s a cool kid, and I grew up playing soccer.”

  “Okay, well, I just hope you’re not doing it as a way to get me to change my mind about going out with you…because…”

  Lachlan chuckles. “Yeah, I know, it’s not going to happen.” Then he mutters something that sounds like “such a contradiction” under his breath. But before I can ask him what he means by that, he’s already running over to join Jax, Kinsley, and Willow.

  * * *

  Despite the rocky start, the morning spent with Lachlan and my family is enjoyable. I watch while Lachlan shows Kinsley tons of moves, and join in so we can play a game of two-on-two—Willow offers to referee. Kinsley is on cloud nine with all the attention Lachlan gives her. She laughs and talks animatedly with him. She even insists on being on the same team as him. At one point, Jax jokes he should’ve just sent Lachlan here.

  “He’s just someone new,” I explain, not wanting him to feel bad.

  “I know.” He grins, not the least bit upset. “Lachlan is a good guy, and Kinsley is a good judge of character.” I allow his statement to swirl around in my head for a few seconds before I push it to the side.

  When Kinsley is finally worn out, we say bye to Jax and Willow. I always feel bad with how much time they spend with Kinsley and me. They never complain, but I know they love their time alone as well. On Sundays, which is their only sure day off, I try to keep Kinsley out of the house so they can have time to themselves. Now that Kinsley is in school full-time, I’ve been thinking more and more about the two of us getting our own place. I’ve looked at a few places online, but it kind of scares me. I’ve never lived on my own before. It’s something I know I need to do, though. For me and my daughter.

  “Mommy and I always get a hot dog at the park for lunch,” Kinsley tells Lachlan, who is sitting on the blanket, drinking a bottle of water. “Wanna go?”

  “Oh, Kins,” I say, “I’m sure Lachlan has other plans.” Like my brother and Willow, I think Sunday is his only day off as well.

  “Actually, I don’t,” he says. “A hot dog sounds perfect.”

  “Yay!” Kinsley yells. “Oh! Can you go to the science museum with us too? I can show you all the planets you drew on me. Please.” I stifle my laugh at the way she flutters her eyelashes and exaggerates every letter in the word please, just like she always does to her uncles to get her way.

  “That sounds like fun,” Lachlan says, not even bothering to speak to me first.

  “Lachlan, can I talk to you over here for a moment?” I drag him off the blanket and away from where Kinsley can hear us.

  “What’s up?” he asks, knowing full well what the hell is up.

  “What’s up is you just agreed to pretty much spend the rest of the day with us.”

  “Yeah…I know,” he says, the corners of his mouth turning up into a lazy smile.

  “I know you don’t have kids, but when you’re approached by a child, you don’t just say yes without speaking to the parent first.”

  Lachlan chuckles. “I may not have my own, but I have several nieces and nephews.”

  “Okay, then you should know this.”

  “I know it…” He nods. “But I also know if I were to ask, you would say no.” He grins, and damn it, if it doesn’t do something to my insides. Why can’t he have an ugly smile?

  “So, you’re using my daughter to get to me?” My voice comes out harsher than intended, and Lachlan’s playful grin instantly diminishes.

  “Now you’re twisting shit,” he says. “I asked you out, and you said no, despite the fact I know you felt something between us.” He raises his pierced brow, daring me to argue. “I wanted to get to know you, and the last time I checked, your daughter is a part of you, which means I want to get to know her as well. And at this moment, out of the two of you, she’s the only one willing to give me a chance.” His shoulders sag in defeat, and I suddenly feel like a mega bitch. He’s right. I did feel something—I do—but I’m too damn scared to act on it. “I wouldn’t use anyone,” he continues, “especially a child, but you don’t know that because you don’t know me.”

  He walks away, leaving me standing here in shock, confused as to how we went from playing soccer to arguing. But I know how we got here. Through my insecurities and hang-ups. Instead of giving Lachlan a clean slate like everyone deserves, I’ve already placed him in the same category as Rick, simply because he’s a man—and that isn’t fair to him. I’d like to think I’ve come a long way in the last several years, but at the same time, I still have a lot further to go.

  I watch him bend down to my daughter’s level and talk to her. I’m not sure what he’s saying until I see her tiny brows furrow and her head shake.

  Speed walking over to them, I catch the end of whatever he’s saying. “…can’t wait to see what you want me to draw the next time you visit the shop.”

  “Okay,” she says, her voice soft.

  “See ya later, Mini-Q,” he tells her before he turns to me. Without meeting my eyes, he says, “Have a good day, Quinn,” then takes off toward the park’s exit. Lachlan using my full name shouldn’t bother me. It’s what I told him to use. But for some reason, it does. It makes me want to drag him back and tell him to call me Q.

  “I really wanted him to go,” Kinsley says, and although, I don’t admit it out loud, I feel the same way.

  I watch as his body gets smaller and smaller, the farther away he gets, and then something in me snaps. As if the thought of him disappearing altogether is unfathomable. “Wait!” I yell, grabbing Kinsley’s hand and running to catch up with him. When he doesn’t slow down, I repeat myself. “Wait! Lachlan!” I shout. This time, his steps falter, and he turns around. Out of breath, and mentally telling myself I really should get serious about going to the gym more often, I finally reach him.

  “We would…um…” I take a deep breath, nervous to actually speak the words I want to say. It’s just a hot dog and a museum, I tell myself, but somehow I know it’s more than that. And while I’m not sure exactly what more means, it scares the hell out of me. “We would really like it if you would join us.” I let out a loud exhale, waiting for Lachlan to respond. Afraid he’s going to dismiss me.

  “You sure?” he asks, his face showing no emotion.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “All right,” he says, a small grin teasing his lips. “Let’s go.”

  “Yay!” Kinsley squeals.

  Seven

  Lachlan

  I can’t help the grin I’m sporting as I pay for the hot dogs and drinks. When Quinn pulled me aside, I knew I overstepped. I gambled and lost. So, I said my peace and then walked away. It sucked, but I wasn’t about to force myself on the woman, no matter how much I want her. I know firsthand you can’t make someone want you. You might feel the sparks, but if the other person doesn’t, you have no leg to stand on. I knew she felt the sparks between us, but for whatever reason, she was trying with everything in her not to acknowledge them. Until I walked away and heard her calling after me.

  I barely know the woman, but I could see it in the way she nervously spoke, the unsureness in her tone, it took a lot for her to chase me down and ask me to join her and her daughter. For a second, I considered giving her a hard time, but then I looked into her eyes and saw fear. Afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of putting herself out there and open to rejection. So instead, I asked if she was sure, offering her an out, and when she said she was, I considered that a huge step in the right direction.

  “You don’t have to get me one,” Quinn says. “I’m not really hungry.” I tilt my head slightly, not liking what she’s saying. It shouldn’t surprise me, though, since she’s made quite a few comments pertaining to her figure.

  “Yeah, you are,” I say, holding up three fingers to the guy and handing him a twenty dollar bill. When he hands me the food and drinks, I hand them out. Both girls say thank you and open their wrappers
to take a bite.

  “Eww, Lachlan,” Kinsley says, watching me add every condiment available to the top of my dog.

  “Have you ever tried all these together?” I ask her. She shakes her head. “Then you don’t get to judge.” She rolls her eyes as she takes a bite of her plain hot dog.

  We walk down the sidewalk, eating and listening to Kinsley talk. She keeps the conversation flowing, telling us all about the mean boy in her class who bugs her, how she’s excited for her first soccer game next Saturday, and all the exhibits she wants to visit once we get to the museum. When we stop by their house so they can quickly change, I look up the museum to find the easiest subway route. But when I mention it to Quinn, she says, “That’s okay. We can just take my car. It’ll be quicker.”

  Not many people drive in New York. I own a vehicle because I lived in Boston for a few years, but I keep it parked at my parents’ place since I don’t drive it often here. Not only does Quinn have a vehicle, she has a fucking Porsche SUV. From what I’ve heard, she has a photography business she’s building. I’m not trying to get up in her business, but I’m definitely curious to know how much photographers make. Clearly, I’m in the wrong profession. But you know what they say: you don’t become a tattoo artist for the money; you become one because of your love of the art.

  The ride there doesn’t take too long. When Kinsley falls asleep on the way, Quinn says, “She’s reenergizing her batteries,” with a laugh that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. It’s the first playful thing I’ve heard from her, and it has me wanting to make her laugh more often.

  We spend the afternoon at the science museum, being dragged by Kinsley from exhibit to exhibit. Quinn was right. Her batteries are fully charged, and she’s on a mission to see every single thing available. The only reason we leave is because the museum announces that it’s closing. Kinsley pouts, and Quinn tells her they’ll return again soon.

  I offer to take the subway home so she doesn’t have to cross back over the bridge, but she insists on dropping me off. I live in a decent apartment, walking distance to the shop. It has two bedrooms and two baths, and I share it with my best friend and cousin, Declan, who is currently over in Ireland visiting his sister who just had a baby. He’ll be back in a couple weeks.

  “That’s me,” I say, pointing to the brick building. “Thank you for letting me crash your day.”

  Quinn smiles softly. It’s not much, but I can tell I’m wearing her down slowly. “You live here?” she asks. I can tell she’s curious how I can afford such a nice place when I ink people for a living.

  “Yeah, I share the place with my cousin.” I shrug, not bothering to mention I own it outright and he barely pays rent.

  “Oh, well, thank you for joining us.”

  “I have a soccer game Saturday!” Kinsley says. “You have to come.”

  Quinn closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I would tell you that you don’t have to come, but at this point, I feel like a broken record.” She laughs. “It’s at the same park we practiced at today. Nine o’clock. If you can’t make it…or have to work…”

  “You’ll understand,” I say, finishing her sentence for her.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you step outside for a second?” Quinn gives me a confused look, but opens her door and steps out anyway.

  “Bye, Mini-Q,” I say to Kinsley. “I’ll try to make it Saturday.” I don’t want to say I’ll be there and not show up. It’s still six days away, so anything can happen. She waves goodbye, and I get out of the SUV and walk around to Quinn’s side.

  “What’s up?”

  “I didn’t want to ask you in front of Kinsley…”

  “Oh, wow, a man who listens.” She grins playfully. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah.” I chuckle softly. “Anyway, I was wondering if I could take you out one day this week.” Quinn’s smile drops, telling me I’m about to be rejected once again. “Or not,” I add to lighten the mood.

  “I really enjoyed hanging out with you,” she says, “but I’m a single mom to a five-year-old.”

  Running my hand over my beard, I tug on the end, something I tend to do when I’m nervous or frustrated—right now I’m the latter. “I’m aware of all of that,” I tell her. “I just spent the last nine hours with you and her.”

  “No, I know.” She groans. “What I meant was…my life is crazy and chaotic on a good day. Take the day you met me for example. I was late, forgot my daughter had a field trip, my sitter was out of town and my back up was sick with the flu. I needed to leave my daughter with my brother and his girlfriend at their tattoo shop, so I could go to the photoshoot, which I was late to. And after I picked up Kinsley, I found out it was the last day to sign her up for soccer.” Her eyes go wide dramatically, reminding me of Kinsley. These two are clearly two peas in a pod. “Can you imagine if I would’ve missed that deadline?” I laugh, but don’t say anything, letting her finish what she needs to say.

  “I raced all over town, signing her up and taking her to get shin guards and a soccer ball.”

  “You’re a good mom,” I tell her. I’m not sure why, but I just felt like she needed to know that.

  “Thank you,” she says warmly. “But part of being a good mom is putting my daughter first.”

  “That excuse sucks,” I say honestly.

  “Maybe, but it’s only part of it.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “I’m almost forty, and you’re twenty-seven. You’re a single guy with no kids, no strings. I’m a single mom with a child who has an eight o’clock bedtime.”

  “So what?” This woman has every excuse in the book, and if I thought they were being slung at me because she really doesn’t like me, I would give up. But my gut is telling me they’re being used as a shield because she’s scared.

  “What did you do last Saturday night?” she asks.

  “Played poker at Gage’s place.”

  “Exactly. You know what I did? I watched The Little Mermaid for the hundredth time, baked cookies, then after putting my daughter to bed, spent the rest of the evening cleaning up, taking a bath, and working on some edits before falling asleep only two pages into the book I’m reading.”

  “Jax and Willow were there too,” I point out.

  “They’re kid-less,” she says, “just like you.”

  I look at her, at a loss of what to say. I feel her slipping through my fingers before I’ve even gotten her. Figuring this is my last chance, I say what’s on my mind. “Look, Q, I like you. I want to take you out. I get you have all these reasons why you don’t think it would work between us, and in your head they very well may be relevant. But I don’t see why any of those reasons you mentioned should prevent me from taking a beautiful, hard-working, woman out—kid or no kid.”

  When her eyes drop to the ground, I lift her chin. I hate when she feels like she can’t look at me. “I think you like me too,” I tell her. “But I also think you’re scared.” When she nibbles on her lower lip, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. “So, here’s what I’m going to do.” I reach around her and pull her phone out of her back pocket. When I swipe up, it opens, indicating she doesn’t have a passcode on her phone. “I’m going to put my number in your phone. If, or hopefully when, you want to get to know me, text or call me. We can take things slow, I promise. I just want to get to know you.”

  I type my number into her contacts list then hand her back her phone. “I hope to hear from you.” Leaning over, I give her a chaste kiss on her cheek before I wave to Kinsley one last time and then head up to my place. The ball is in her court now. I just have to hope she thinks I’m worth stepping out of her comfort zone for.

  Eight

  Quinn

  It’s Friday night, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, not only do I not have any shoots booked, but I’m completely caught up on all my edits, and I’m off all weekend. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m kid-less. As I sit on the couch, with my P
hish Food ice cream in one hand, I flip through the channels on the TV, hoping to find something to watch that doesn’t involve princesses or talking dogs. On the coffee table is my phone, taunting me, the same way it’s been taunting me the last five days since Lachlan input his number into my contacts list. I’ve typed out enough messages to have an entire one-sided conversation, but I haven’t built up the courage to actually hit send on a single one.

  The truth is, I don’t have a lot of dating experience. Growing up, my two older, tattoo-covered, football playing brothers were several years ahead of me, yet made sure everyone knew who they were, so the boys tended to stay away. We lived in a small town. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school I convinced Tommy Pines to take my virginity the night of prom. I know, how cliché. He was boring, to say the least. A book nerd of sorts, and because of that, he didn’t know who my brothers were. A month later, he left to some crazy, smart college, and I started at the Art Institute. I dated on and off over the years, slept with a few guys, but never felt that spark you read about in those super mushy romance novels.

  And if I’m honest, I’m not sure I ever really felt them with Rick. I think I was lost and felt lonely. I know I shouldn’t have felt that way when I have two brothers who love me like crazy. But it’s not the same thing. They were so career oriented. They knew what they wanted and were making it happen, while I was floundering around. First, I thought I wanted to work in a museum, so they picked up their entire life and moved to New York with me. Only a few months later, I realized I hated it, so I quit.

  I did learn, though, my true passion was photography, and that’s how I came to start my own photography business. The problem was I had no idea what I was doing or how difficult it would be to try to build a business in New York. Every day I felt like I was failing while my brothers were succeeding. So when I met Rick, and he promised me the world, I took the easy way out by latching onto him.