Page 20 of Kiss My Boots


  "He . . . Well, with him comin' back from their honeymoon and all, I couldn't help but remember the talk I had with Clay at the bar, and I started thinkin' about goin' out to California again. To see my mama. Him comin' home just reminded me of that."

  The fog of confusion that was hanging heavily in the air between us is sliced in half instantly, giving me a clear path of certainty as I realize where her head is at.

  She's nervous about talking to Maverick.

  And . . . more than that, she's scared.

  Not because of anything between her and me--thank God. She hasn't spoken to Maverick about this yet, not wanting to dampen the mood around his wedding, so his arrival back home after taking his new wife to some tropical beach for their honeymoon is rightfully making her nervous. This woman loves her brothers so much, respects their feelings, the last thing she wants to do is upset them. Even though she knows that Clay is on her side with this, Maverick is still an unknown, and there's nothing wrong with being nervous about how he'll react. After all, I can remember all too vividly how Maverick responded to me at first, when I was a piece of news he didn't seem to want to hear.

  However, I have a feeling the majority of the fear floating around in her head is because, even with her wanting and needing this so she can move on completely, she's been weaving a fantasy for twenty-seven years around this woman and she's about to face the fact that the fantasy is really a nightmare. Going to see her mama is basically her admitting that those dreams are just that--dreams, fantasy, unreal.

  If there was anything I could do to make this right in her mind and heart, I would do it in an instant, but this is a fight I can't take on for her. All I can do is stand at her side and help her forge through the battlefield.

  "What if I can't do it?" she finally asks, looking up at me with desperation in her pleading eyes. "What if Maverick doesn't want me to, or maybe, even worse, if askin' him to let me go hurts him? What if I get out there and I can't even function, seein' her only tearin' me up again instead of helpin' me move on?"

  "God, Quinn," I breathe, leaning forward to put the plate of food she's handed me onto the coffee table before pulling her into my lap, her back against the armrest and feet on the couch. "You're the strongest woman I know, Quinn Davis, but even the strongest people need help sometimes. There's not a damn thing wrong with that. Everything you're feelin' is normal, darlin', but I promise you, your brother is gonna support you every step of the way. That's not somethin' he's gonna do for any other reason other than because he loves you. The only thing that's gonna hurt him in all this is knowin' you seein' her will be hard on you. That's nothin' you can prevent, darlin', because he loves you and that's somethin' he will always feel when it comes to you feelin' heartache. If y'all get out there and you can't go through with it, then that won't make you less of a person. You makin' this decision alone shows your strength, regardless of whether you can take those final steps. It makes you human, Quinn. And anyone would struggle with this. No matter what happens, nothin' will ever touch you with the power to tear you up. Not one damn thing. Not when I'm here to make sure you stay whole."

  She blinks a few times, clearing from her eyes the moisture that had formed while I spoke. "I don't want my brothers to go with me," she breathes.

  I frown, and she brings up a hand to rub at the space between my eyebrows until I feel my face relax and the frown fall away.

  "You want to go out there alone?"

  She shakes her head, looking unsure again.

  "I only want you there," she mutters, looking down and fiddling with the end of her shirt. "You brought me back, Tate. You made me believe again, and when I think about how bad it could get there for me--there's only one person who could bring me back from that, if that's the case."

  I feel the tension rush out of my body and gather her closer to me, my arms wrapped around her. I have to bite back a grunt of pain when her ass shifts awkwardly in my lap. Since we're in for the night, both of us are in loungewear, so the basketball shorts she just yanked on aren't offering much protection. Still--I pull her even tighter, pain be damned.

  "Is that what you've worked yourself up worryin' about? That I wouldn't want to be there with you or somethin'?" I ask softly.

  She nods. "Kinda. I think bein' scared about talkin' to Mav on top of worryin' about askin' you to come with me and not them just got the best of me. I didn't know how to tell you I needed you when it would pull you away from here. I didn't want you to feel torn after just startin' at the practice and all, but also put you in a position that you didn't exactly sign up for, Tate. Mama issues are messy, and I didn't want to burden you with that kinda stink when you've been so happy."

  I kiss her temple and she shifts so that she's curled up in my lap, head against my chest as she looks up at me, one hand moving up my naked torso until she stops and rests her palm there--something I've noticed she does a lot lately--her thumb tapping softly with the beat of my heart.

  "No matter what, and no matter how far, I'll follow, Quinn. Don't ever be scared to tell me you need me when that's somethin' I've spent the past nine years prayin' to God you'd feel about me again. I struggled for years knowin' me disappearin' like I did would stir up the painful memories of your mama doin' the same, Quinn. Comin' back and findin' out that you felt that pain over and over again while I was gone slashed me through the gut, but you were usin' all that--what I did, what she did, my unspoken truths and her lies--to convince yourself you were just like her when that couldn't be further from the truth, that was a knife to the heart. It would be just as excruciatin' stayin' back knowin' you would be facin' these demons again and I wouldn't be there again to slay them if you needed me to. But more than that, I want to be there because when you realize you're nothin' like her and finally see the beautiful strength inside you it's goin' to be somethin' that steals your breath, it's so powerful."

  She looks up and I pull my head back just in time to miss her colliding with my chin.

  "You say that like you know from experience what it'll feel like," she gasps, eyes wide with a hesitant hopefulness.

  "That's because I do, baby," I answer. "The day I knew there wasn't shit keepin' me from you any longer, I called my parents--FaceTimed them, so they wouldn't be able to have a sliver of doubt as to how serious I was, bein' able to see me--and even though I knew I'd still have to fight to convince you to give us another chance, they had to know where I stood."

  "And . . . where was that?"

  "With you, Quinn. The same place I stood for nine years, helplessly on the sidelines miles away. I told them both that, while they might have been the reason I was alive--havin' made me and all--they wouldn't keep me from the person that keeps me breathin' one day longer. My father actually laughed at me, and I swear to God, it didn't even touch me, because I knew I had won. Not them. When I found out what had motivated my father to keep his son away from the woman he loved, I let the security of my win over his bullshit cushion the blow, and in that moment, I knew he might have cost us a lot, but in the end, we would be the ones to gain from his efforts. He finally taught me the difference between a coward and a fighter--somethin' I couldn't keep from mixin' up the whole time I was away from you and powerless to change the course of my life--but in that one phone call, he at least gave me that."

  "Why did he do it?" she hesitantly questions.

  Knowing this moment would come eventually and having to actually go through with it are two different things. She deserves to learn what motivated him, but I also don't want her to think poorly of herself just because the man who fathered me is a spineless, misogynistic prick. My fear that she will is what kept me from telling her this weeks ago, when I explained why I stayed gone.

  "He thought what he wanted was more important than what I wanted--that our family would gain something they couldn't if I was attached to a family that didn't have the bullshit social pull ours did. He had some bullshit plan that I would become a successful doctor and he could then use me as a pa
wn to collect more power players in his life, marry me off to someone whose family he could use to fulfill his need for supremacy. All my father saw was that I was begging him to let me be the man I wanted to be, not the one he tried to force me to be."

  Quinn whistles slowly in disbelief. "All of this because I wasn't good enough? Everything we lost was because my family wasn't important enough for him to use?"

  I shake my head, praying she understands me. "No, all of this was because he never felt like what he had was good enough. He craves status and wanted to use me to get him more of it. It wasn't even about you, in the long run, but about him securing a future through me that he could exploit for his own gain."

  "What would have happened if he had forced you further in his game? Tried to hurt more people in order to get you to agree to be his pawn fully?"

  "Never would've happened. I'm not proud of it, but he was close to pushing me to the point of no return as it was. If fate hadn't stepped in, I'm not sure I would be walkin' the earth a free man. I did what he asked. I sacrificed my happiness to keep those he threatened safe, but I still had my pride. I would have killed him or been killed before I let him have that. I didn't have you, and baby, death would have been a far less painful fate at that point."

  She gasps.

  "I'm not my father," I tell her, holding her gaze, speaking the words for my benefit just as much as hers.

  She jolts in my arms. "I would never think you were, Tate. Does what you said shock me? Damn right it does. But I won't ever hold what he did to you--to us--against you. I know you did what you had to do and that you would have done anything to get back to me if there had been another way. The only thing I hold you accountable for, Tate, is protectin' those that you care about."

  "I would die for you." I say the words softly, but there's a desperation to the truth in them.

  "I know, honey," she breathes, pressing her lips against mine. "That's why I need you with me. Every step, not just to help me deal with movin' on from what my mama did. I need you with me to help me finally let go so I can give you all of me without the fear lingerin' in the back. I also want you with me so I can prove to you that I'm worthy of you after the sacrifices you made. I'm nervous beyond belief, but I'm like you--I can't let what her leavin' did to me win over the future we have before us."

  God, this woman brings me to my knees. If only she knew how strong she was already just by admitting this.

  "Trust me when I tell you, you're gonna feel the nerves of knowin' you're about to face somethin' that's stood in your path in some form your whole life, even with me there to shield you the best I can. Your mama might not have stood in the way like my father did, but her leavin' put a shadow on you that I think you're just now startin' to see fade. We'll go talk to your brother this weekend. If you want me there while y'all talk, I'll be there, or if you want to do that alone, I'll wait close by for that to happen. Either way, you won't be without me. We'll figure out when to go out there, get things settled at the practice and the shop, and I'll make the travel arrangements for us to go see her. However you want this to play out, I'll move mountains to make sure it happens, as long as you know that through all that, I will never let your step falter, and in the end, I'll be with you when you see the sun shinin' and that shadow around you vanish completely."

  She nods, and I feel her body relax in my arms.

  It won't be easy, but I meant everything I said to her. Our sandwiches lie forgotten a moment later when I rise from the couch with her in my arms and carry her to my bedroom.

  Words aren't needed when I lay her down on the bed, worship her body, and show her with every part of my body just how loved she is--as we come together.

  I know she's still worried about facing the last thing holding her back from moving on with her life completely. She might not be as nervous after our talk, but I have a feeling that's because she's distracted by the truth of my father's motivations. She's got a forgiving heart, thank God, but even if she does understand the reasons that kept us apart and doesn't hold that against me, when you factor in that her mama's abandonment has compounded everything she's lost over the years until she was terrified to believe she could move on without it happening again, I know this visit to her mama is even more important to her and our future than she realizes, because with her finally letting that part of her past go, there will be no stopping our future.

  24

  QUINN

  "It Don't Hurt Like It Used To" by Billy Currington

  - -

  I narrow my eyes and give Barrett another heated glare through the front window of Davis Auto Works. He just shakes his head and laughs at me, ignoring what I am so sure is one hell of an intimidating expression. He should be quaking in his damn boots knowing the boss is pissed at him, but nope, not him.

  I turn in a huff and look around Main Street, not even really believing I just got kicked out of my own damn shop. It's not even lunchtime yet and I was such a nervous mess all morning that I kept screwing things up. I should be thankful that Barrett finally had enough and made me leave--after, of course, he made sure that I wasn't upset about anything having to do with Tate. I swear, he was more concerned about the status of our relationship than he was over the wiring I had just done incorrectly on the electrical system for the Tahoe I was working on.

  I laugh to myself and kick another rock. When it almost hits Homer, I give up my pity party and acknowledge that there's only one way to get over some of these nerves. As much as I would love to run to Tate and use his strength, I need to show him I can do some of this on my own. More important, I need him to see that I believe in myself so that he will never doubt that I believe in us.

  While I can admit without shame that I need him to come with me on the trip to see my mama--his adoration and strength being something I'm not willing to go without when facing her--I don't need to be afraid of my brothers, and in using Tate as a shield with them I'd set a precedent I don't want to, given that I want Tate to be around the rest of my life and all.

  I think a lot of the reason I want to do this without him is because of what he confessed to me the other night. I want to prove to myself that I'm stronger than I give myself credit for. All I've ever done was hide from the things that caused me pain. I used my smile as a shield and pretended like I wasn't missing part of myself. I didn't spend years sacrificing myself for someone else like he did. I'm ready to let go and move on so that I can feel this beautiful life with no more pain from the past touching it. With Tate by my side, that will happen, I just know it. But I need to take this next step by myself. Part of me can't wait to taste the victory that Tate spoke of in awe, but just a small fraction. The bigger part of me wants to get past this on my own so I can play an active role in taking my life back, gain that for myself so that I can hopefully give him the same fulfillment that him fighting for us gave him in the end.

  I'm not living with my mistakes, my mama's, or Tate's father's.

  Not anymore.

  I'm taking my life back, grabbing the man I love, and I will spend the rest of my days learning from my past while I create the most beautiful forever anyone has ever seen.

  With that thought in mind, I climb into Homer and send a quick text to my brothers asking them to meet me at home in fifteen.

  Then I call Leighton.

  "This better be good," she barks after picking up. "I just had a whole dadgum bag of flour explode all over me and the kitchen. It looks like the North Pole in here!"

  I snicker and wait for her to stop grumbling under her breath before I speak.

  "You done?"

  "I might be," she fumes. "But I also might just throw in the towel and demand my husband take me back to that stress-free, blissful island in the middle of the tropics. No one feels stress in the tropics."

  "That good, huh?"

  She's silent for a beat before she speaks again, her frustration gone. "Am I allowed to tell you just how good it was?"

  "Uh, nope. No, I definitely don'
t want to hear about just how good it was."

  "That's a shame, Q. It was sooo good. He did this thing with his--"

  "Leighton, shut the hell up! Jesus Jones, we should have thought out this whole you-lovin'-my-brother thing better."

  She laughs so hard she ends up snorting. "Ack! I just shot flour up my nose!"

  "Serves you right, you hag! That's instant karma right there! Feel the burn, Leigh. Feel. The. Burn."

  "Good heavens, who are you? A Bernie Sanders cheerleader? Hurry up and tell me why you called so I can go get this shit show in order and get outta here. I miss my husband."

  I roll my eyes but smile huge, so happy for her and Maverick. "Speakin' of that husband of yours--he's the reason I called, actually."

  "For the last time, I'm not going to be an accomplice so you can get him drunk and get my name tattooed on his ass."

  "Hey, you actually considered that one!"

  "Because I was just as drunk as you wanted to get him!" she defends.

  "Well, that might be true."

  "Q! Focus. What's up?"

  "Oh, that. I don't want you to freak out or get all mother hen, okay?"

  "No one starts a conversation like that expecting the other person to actually stay calm, you know that, right, Q?"

  "I'm on my way home and I asked Mav and Clay to meet me there," I rush out.

  Leigh pauses. "Ohhhkay, and why would that make me freak out?"

  "I'm gonna ask Mav to arrange for me to go see Mama." If I wasn't driving down the street, this would be when I clamp my eyes shut and wait for my words to register.

  "You what?!"

  "It's not that big a deal, I just wanted you to know just in case he was in a mood or somethin' later. That way you would know what happened and you could, I don't know, proceed with caution?"

  "Are you kiddin' me with this, Quinn Everly Davis? You wanted me to know in case he's in a mood? Have you lost your ever-lovin' mind?" She's practically screeching into the phone.