“It was a long shot,” Quinn said quietly.
“Yeah. I get it. My entire life is a long shot. Whatever.” She pretended to shrug it off with the talent only a teenager could and turned away. She was wearing cutoff jeans, a tank top, and a backpack and Quinn pointed at her. “Where are you going?”
“Camping with Katie and her parents, remember?”
“Are you going to promise not to run away again? Because I don’t want to chase you through the woods where there are probably bears and Big Foot and stuff.”
Tilly laughed, and the sound was so unusual and nice that Quinn smiled too as she realized that sisters, whether by heart or by blood, were to be cherished for as long as you had them in your life.
“You’re such a city girl,” Tilly said. “And no, I’m not planning to run away while camping.”
The qualifier didn’t escape Quinn, but she’d take what she could get. “You going to be okay out there?”
“We’re camping on the bluffs over the water.”
“Same question,” Quinn said.
Tilly nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to be fine.”
“So you’ll come back in one piece?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“Wow,” Quinn said dryly. “Look at us having a bonding moment.”
Tilly rolled her eyes. “Long as it doesn’t come with a hug.”
“Oh, but it does.” Quinn lifted her arms and walked toward her sister like Frankenstein.
Tilly snorted and backed up.
“Ah, come on,” Quinn said, following. “Hug me.”
“No way!” Tilly dodged Quinn, but was at least laughing a little as she did so.
“Come on, we’re doing so well.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get cocky,” Tilly said. “Teenage girls are unpredictable.”
“No kidding. I was one, you know.”
“A million years ago, maybe,” Tilly said.
“Yuck it up, Funny Girl. But one day you’ll be on the wrong side of thirty and—”
“I didn’t realize people lived that long.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Quinn said and hugged her. And then when Tilly was squealing and trying to escape, she kissed her face all over.
Tilly finally gave up fighting it and sighed. “You’re so weird.”
“I know,” Quinn whispered, and she held on tight.
So did Tilly.
Chapter 28
If thought bubbles appeared above my head, I’d be so screwed.
—from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”
Mick had been back in San Francisco a week, working his ass off. When he wasn’t busy working his ass off, he slept. Or tried to.
It was crazy to him that after spending most of his life dreaming about getting out of Wildstone, all he wanted to do now was go back.
He’d known he was in deep with Quinn. He just hadn’t realized exactly how deep, or that she’d stayed in the shallow end of the pool. He understood it, he did. She’d been hit hard by life several times over and she honestly believed she couldn’t let herself love again.
But getting that and accepting that were two entirely different things. He knew it was probably foolish, not to mention stupid on his part, to think he could just be patient with her and wait her out.
But that’s exactly what his plan was because when he was with her, he felt more alive, more happy, more . . . everything than he’d been in a long time.
And he wasn’t ready to walk away from that.
But she needed space, and that he could do. At least he thought so, until he saw her ad to sell her car.
She needed money. He hated the thought. Thinking a text would be less likely to freak her out, he went with that.
MICK:
Hey.
QUINN:
Hey! Heard you were in SF.
MICK:
Yeah. Working. How are you?
QUINN:
You already know the answer to that. Screwed up.
MICK:
Knowing it is half the battle. You’re selling your car?
QUINN:
How did you hear that . . .?
MICK:
It’s Wildstone. Do you need money?
QUINN:
No! Well, yes, but I’m fine.
MICK:
Quinn.
QUINN:
I want to make some home improvements, and I want to do it on my own. And I thought we weren’t speaking.
MICK: We’re speaking. For future reference, we’re always speaking. If you won’t take money from me, then take a loan.
QUINN:
Sweet, but no thank you. I’ve got this.
MICK:
I’m the furthest thing from sweet you’ve ever seen and if you’d get over your fear of letting go, you’d let me prove it to you.
She sent him back an emoji of a laughing, smiling face and a blue heart. He had no idea why it was blue and not red, but he’d take it.
AFTER QUINN DROVE Tilly to her friend’s house for camping and met the parentals, she worked the breakfast shift at the café.
Greta took one look at her and did a double take. “You back together with Mick?”
Quinn blinked. “Um, what?”
“You’re smiling.”
“Grinning from ear to ear, actually,” Trinee said, coming into the kitchen.
Quinn turned and eyeballed her reflection in the steel refrigerator door. Yep. She was grinning from ear to ear. It’d been Mick’s texts.
She missed him.
“Maybe I’m just smiling because it’s a nice day out,” she said.
“Maybe,” Greta said. “But I wouldn’t mind having a smile like that.”
“Later,” Trinee promised her with a wink.
Quinn finished up her shift by two in the afternoon. In hindsight, with Tilly gone she should’ve gone home to L.A. for an overnight visit. She wasn’t sure what it said about her that she hadn’t even thought about it.
But then Skye blew her away by showing up to surprise her.
With her parents.
It was the very best kind of surprise.
Her parents were so disappointed to miss seeing Tilly—and meeting Mick—but they were happy to see where Quinn was staying. “It’s beautiful here,” her mom said.
“Not a bad place to build a life,” her dad said.
Her mom took his hand, and looking both happy and a little bit sad, nodded. “I’m so proud of you, Quinn,” she said quietly. “So happy to see you being so strong and building yourself a life, one that wasn’t handed to you.”
“Mom.” Quinn hugged her, realizing that no matter how overprotective they’d been at times, they really did love her. They loved her every bit as much as they had Beth.
Which she also realized meant she could love Tilly every bit as much as she’d loved Beth too. “I want you to know that I’m grateful for everything you and Dad gave me. I should say that more.”
Her mom nodded and squeezed her tight. Then she pulled free, swiped her tears from her face, and said, “I want to see the chickens.”
So they visited the evil chickens.
And no surprise, Tink loved her mom. The cat rubbed herself all over her mom’s black pants, leaving behind some brown fur clumps.
“It’s okay,” her mom said, much to Quinn’s and her dad’s shock. The woman felt faint if she found so much as a stray thread on her clothes. “She’s a sweet thing.”
Quinn watched her mom pet Tink. “Careful, Mom. You can pet her twice, but on the third time she’s going to bite you.”
Her mom stroked Tink a third time and . . . Tink’s eyes drifted shut in bliss.