Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

She shakes her head and continues to move around my kitchen, looking like she feels at home here in my house—exactly how I want her to feel, since I hope one day she’ll be living here with me. I give her some time to work through her thoughts. If she hasn’t figured out how to let me know what’s bothering her by the time she sits down, I’ll have to think of a more creative way to get her to speak up.

When she drops down on the couch, handing me my sandwich before leaning into my body and placing her own on her lap, she still doesn’t speak.

“Quinn,” I prod, trying to get her to tell me what’s bothering her because she wants to, and not because I’m pulling it out of her.

A long exhale answers me back, and she tears at the corners of the paper towel she’s using as a plate for her sandwich. My heart pounds while I wait her out. I can’t think of a single thing that’s happened this past week that would have made her look this . . . despondent.

“Maverick gets back home in two days,” she whispers, still not looking at me, picking at her sandwich.

I frown. “I know, Grease, you just told me that.”

Her back moves against my side as she breathes deeply and because she’s so close to my body, I know that deep inhale was held tight before she blew her breath out slowly. Almost like she was using those few extra seconds to work up the courage to finish talking. Jesus, where is she going with this?

“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.”