The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,54
that before in my life,” he said, obviously expecting her to bring his wife to her senses. But until Autumn had someone to replace him, she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. That was the job she was most afraid of having to take on herself.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she said with an encouraging pat and felt slightly guilty for ignoring his distress as she moved on through the crowd.
She lined up Lisa and Anthony Hamill, who owned an Italian restaurant at the edge of town, to chair the food committee. Lynn Hill, a travel agent, volunteered to put together a small group of people to gather auction items. And Barbara Stamper, a widow who prepared almost everyone’s taxes in town, agreed to handle the paperwork and bookkeeping. Past experience had taught Autumn that almost all fundraisers encountered a bottleneck at the end of the evening, when it came time for everyone to check out and pay, so she wanted to focus on streamlining that process.
But she couldn’t talk to Barbara about it right now. There was a line in front of Lynn, so she went over to help while Laurie and Chris met with the Hamills about the menu.
Autumn was so busy she didn’t notice that Quinn had entered the building until the meeting was over and almost everyone was gone. Laurie had left to grab dinner with Chris, and Autumn was talking to a few stragglers, who were offering additional help if she needed it, when she saw him standing at the back of the room.
The moment their eyes met, he shoved off the wall and came toward her but waited patiently until the others realized he was there. At that point, they greeted him and gave their condolences—“I’m so sorry about your mother... She’ll get through this... She’s a fighter...”—before the last one patted him on the back as they left.
“Thanks for doing this,” he said, once they were alone. “I was surprised it was you, but after hearing you speak, I can tell you have some experience and we’re in good hands.”
She refused to acknowledge how wonderful he smelled—or how nicely the crab on The Daily Catch T-shirt he was wearing stretched across his chest. “No problem,” she said. “You should’ve spoken up sooner. I would’ve let you say something.”
“I didn’t want to say anything. I only came so my father wouldn’t feel as though he had to. He’s grateful—don’t get me wrong—but asking everyone to donate on our behalf...” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans and hung his head. “Well, I’ll be honest—it’s a little humiliating.”
“To him or to you?”
“To both of us,” he admitted. “I wish we didn’t need the help. But if one of us has to eat humble pie, I would rather it be me.”
He obviously loved and respected his father very much. “I admire you for trying to make things easier on him—on both your parents. I know that’s the reason you moved home. It might be the only reason you’re staying. But the fundraiser will be over before you know it, and it’ll be painless. You’ll see. You and your father don’t even have to come to the event, if you don’t want to. I can make up some excuse—say you’re both busy at the restaurant or something.”
“You’re suggesting I take the coward’s way out?” he said, looking up with a crooked smile.
“Just giving you the option.”
The levity left his face. “We would never skip it. We’ll leave the restaurant to our employees that night so we can both be there. Mom will come, too, if she’s feeling strong enough. We owe that much to those who are sacrificing for us. It’s an awkward thing, that’s all—taking money from others. I hate it.”
In an attempt to make her words more convincing, she gripped his forearm. “It’s okay to accept help once in a while, Quinn.”
When his gaze lowered to her hand, she felt foolish for touching him. His skin was so warm and smooth. She’d been in love with her husband—still loved her husband, she corrected—but she’d never experienced the kind of sexual awareness she’d felt in high school whenever Quinn was around. And that hadn’t changed, even after all the intervening years, which was why she needed to keep her distance.
Clearing her throat, she let go of him. “Sorry.”
“For...”
She wasn’t sure why she’d apologized. “I didn’t mean to...you know...”
“No, I don’t know,” he said, watching her closely. “What?”