Hope on the Rocks by Annabeth Albert
Thirty-Eight
Adam—December
“Goodbye is hard.” Quinn nodded sagely, way more comfortable in this moment than I was.
“I didn’t think it would be.” My gulp seemed to echo across the parking lot. I circled the truck one last time. I’d already quadruple-checked the interior, but I wasn’t quite ready to walk away. Damn it.
“Of course, it would be difficult.” Quinn put an arm around me. A blustery winter day equaled few others interested in car buying and a nearly deserted car lot. “You’ve had this, what, ten years?”
“More like thirteen.” It had been my first big purchase ever, right here at this very dealership, and even used it had been a stretch. This time the off-season combined with year-end deals meant a killer bargain for me. I supposed if my transmission had to finally give up the ghost, I could have picked a lot worse time of year to be emergency car shopping. But even if the timing was decent, Quinn was still right, and I leaned into his embrace. “I didn’t think I was that attached.”
He laughed loud and long at that. “Anyone who knows you knows you were attached to this thing. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to feel sad.”
“Hey, I thought I was the one with all the wisdom?” I managed to joke past my increasingly tight throat.
“You are.” Arm still around me, he patted my side. “You could keep it, you know? Do the restoration yourself.”
I’d thought about that option quite a bit myself, but the simple truth was that the truck needed a lot of work. This latest catastrophe meant the cost of someone else fixing would be more than the thing was worth. Buying something new-to-me made more sense.
“Nah. I’m pretty handy, but I’m not an engine expert.” The truck likely needed hours and hours of work, and I had worked hard all fall at being realistic about what I could take on time-wise. This sort of project would be too much, and I had big plans for my time, ones I hadn’t worked up to sharing with Quinn yet. This was the right call on a number of levels. “And that kid is super stoked to get his hands on it. He’ll take good care of it.”
The saleswoman at the car lot had a seventeen-year-old nephew with mechanic aspirations and a deep love of older trucks. Mine wasn’t quite a classic, but it was close. He couldn’t wait to start work on the truck, and his enthusiasm had gone a long way to easing my mind.
“He will.” Quinn hugged me tighter. “You’re doing a good thing, giving him a deal.”
“Moving on. Man. Now I’m sorry for all the lectures I gave you in the summer.” My laugh came out a little harsh, breath hanging in the chilly air. “It’s hard to leave something behind.”
“It is. Sometimes it’s necessary though.” He had a thoughtful expression, one he didn’t use as much these days. He truly had moved on, and I wanted to join him in moving forward, not back. “And it’s a great present to yourself.”
That part of the timing wasn’t intentional. Christmas was right around the corner, and all the jokes about Santa getting me a new truck were already old and I hadn’t even driven the thing home yet. I’d rather focus on my first holiday with Quinn.
“Ha. I’ll save the presents for Teddy. And you.” I gave him a pointed look. “But the new truck should last a good long while.”
“Lot of camping trips and hauling to be done.” Releasing me, he walked over to the new truck, running a hand down the passenger side door. Like the old one, it was red. A couple of years old, it had some miles on it, but Quinn was right that it was ready for some adventures.
“Speaking of, you want to head back to our favorite place during your next set of consecutive days off? My buddy said we could cut a Christmas tree while we’re there. I can rearrange some things to make it happen.”
“I like the idea of a real tree.” Quinn smiled shyly. I couldn’t wait to watch him decorate it. “But isn’t it deer season?”
“Yeah, but I’ll save that for another time.” I laughed because Quinn still wasn’t the most on venison. I’d gone on a weekend earlier in the hunting season, gotten my fix. This close to the holidays, I had other priorities. “I’d rather hunt you.”
He glanced around before lowering his voice. “Yes, Daddy.”
Now I truly was eager to get back home, put that breathless whisper and those big eyes to good use. I jangled the new keys in my hand. “You want to take the new ride for a spin with me?”
“Absolutely.” Quinn slid easily into the passenger side and said all the right things as we left the dealership, admiring all the bells and whistles of the new truck and getting quiet when I needed one last look at the old one.
“Where are we headed?” he asked as we got closer to Rainbow Cove. I took a turnoff from 101, taking a meandering back road rather than the main highway.
“Taking the long way back to town, but there’s a place I want to drive by.” I’d saved this trip, both as a good distraction for after picking up the truck and because I wanted Quinn along.
“Another property your mom found?” Quinn had been to enough dinners at the B&B to know she was in the market for more rental houses. She’d also been rather blatant in her hints that I might want to house hunt myself.
“Yeah. I’m still thinking about options.” That wasn’t entirely true. I knew exactly what I wanted, but I was also hyper-aware of timing. Also, the force of all that wanting could be overwhelming, making me reluctant to screw up the good thing we had going.
“Well, you spend most nights at my place. If your mom needs the rental back, you could go ahead and bring the rest of your stuff over.” Quinn stretched in his seat, apparently not sharing my concerns over timing. Figured. I’d been all careful, not wanting to spook him, and here he was, braver than me. “Make your change of address official and let her get some income from your current place both.”
“You really want to live together, or are you just being practical?” I might not be the most romantic of guys and might lack Darren’s talent for a flowery speech, but I also wanted this to mean something other than a postal form and some boxes.
“It might be practical, but that’s not why. I love you. I love having you around. I want you to come home to.”
“Me too. I love you too.” I exhaled because this seemed like a big step, but at the same time, it felt natural. Inevitable. Right. “It’s not that much to move, honestly.”
“It’ll be a good workout for the new truck.” Quinn gave an easy smile when I glanced over, but the way he kept folding and unfolding his hands said he was more nervous than he’d let on. “And we should still look at this property too.”
“Oh?” I’d kind of figured the moving-in discussion would kill the house-hunting idea, at least temporarily. One thing at a time and all that.
“You never know. I might eventually want a little yard.”
My laugh held a lot of relief because him putting himself in the picture was precisely what I wanted. But joking was easier than admitting that, so laughter won out. “Knew it. You’re totally jonesing to grow your own vegetables. Gonna torture me with more salads.”
“Maybe. I’ve been researching which herbs go best with venison.”
“You being willing to cook it is awfully sweet.” I didn’t need him to share all my hobbies, but him making the effort made me all warm inside.
“I can do some pots at the current place, but a yard might be nice,” he mused.
“Yard could mean a dog.” If he could plot a garden, I could up the ante, add in some of those dreams and schemes of mine. “Some breed sturdy enough to go on your walks with you.”
“I have something sturdy enough, Daddy.” Quinn’s tone was as heated as his look, making me shift in my seat. This better be a fast drive-by because the need to get him alone was quickly winning out.
“Naughty boy. I’ve got plans for you later.”
“Good.” Quinn chuckled happily. “And I like dogs. I wasn’t allowed one growing up, so I’ve got no clue how to take care of one though.”
“I trust you to figure it out.” Knowing Quinn, there would be weeks of Internet research and textbooks on the dining table. I couldn’t wait. “Bet we could manage it together.”
“Together.” His voice was so tender my heart legit fluttered, but before I could get all sappy on him, I needed to take the turn into a little collection of houses at the edge of town. We were right near one of the state parks, walking distance to a popular trailhead. One more turn took us into the drive for a small cottage, same classic brown siding a lot of midcentury places around the area had.
“This the place?” Quinn asked, gaze sweeping around the property. “There’s no for sale sign.”
“It’s not on the market yet. Mom and her network. Someone told Ed, who told her, who told me.”
“Ed seems to be working out,” he said carefully. Ed was Mom’s new handyperson, someone she’d hired after Darren found good work with a logger friend of Curtis’s. A recent retiree from a long career in commercial construction, Ed had been looking for something part-time and certainly seemed to find Mom’s endless to-do lists fun.
“Yeah, she’s happy.” I was trying to not have feelings about how easily I’d been replaced or about how flirty they seemed with each other. She deserved to be happy, and I certainly was benefiting from the increased flexibility in my schedule. “I told her not to date an employee. Ten bucks she caves by New Year.”
“I bet you’re right.” Shaking his head, Quinn chuckled, then returned to looking around, turning his head to see better out the window. “This place sure is pretty.”
“It needs a fair bit of work,” I warned. It was also smaller than most beach houses, with only a single bedroom and bonus loft area, which meant less competition from investors looking to flip a rental.
“Might be worth it though.” He licked his lower lip. “It’s got potential.”
“That it does.” I stared right at him until he met my gaze. He was the one with potential, the one who would always be worth any amount of work. “It’s not occupied. Let’s look in the windows.”
I wanted to watch him marvel a little more, see if he got the same feeling I’d had looking at pictures. The little fire pit area out back reminded me of our favorite camping spot and the hint of lake view added to the feeling of a private retreat.
“Oh. That is nice.” Quinn peered in the front window, taking in the cozy front room, dominated by a stone fireplace that made up for an uneven paint job and a downright scary kitchen beyond it. “Love that fireplace. You’re not mounting anything above it.”
“I’m not?” I wrapped him up in a hug from behind, pulling him tight against me. “You gonna be here to tell me what goes where and save me from awful decorating choices?”
“Maybe.” Tipping his head back, he grinned up at me, eyes shining behind his glasses. “It could use some paint. I’m good at that.”
“You are.” In addition to painting his bedroom, he’d helped me some with the rental and joined Darren and me on another project. He fit in seamlessly with the family, that was for sure, and there were times when I wasn’t sure my heart could hold all my joy. “Think I should ask about seeing the inside soon?”
“It does have a yard.” His tone was all thoughtful as he spun in my grasp to loop his arms around my neck.
“Quinn?” I whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” Those words got easier every time I said them, heart still hammering but a little less terror in my veins, replaced by a deeper certainty. “I don’t want living together to be a temporary thing.”
“Me either. I like the idea of something together. Something we could work on in our vast amounts of spare time.” His laugh was warm and hope sparkled across his expression. Yeah, he liked the place, exactly as I’d hoped.
“We’ll find some extra time.” My voice was all fuzzy, much like my vision, which briefly blurred with how damn much I wanted this, wanted to build something with him. Together.
“We will.” He brushed a kiss across my mouth. “Ask the seller more about the property. I think it might be the one.”
And I thought Quinn was the one. Actually, thought was the wrong word. I knew. He was the one. The one I wanted to debate paint colors and furniture with, the one I wanted a life with, the one I wanted forever with. And as we kissed again, I let myself believe we’d get it.
