Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

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.

I shake my head and thump my thumb against the steering wheel. “I don’t think so. I think I finally found it.”