The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,66
that he’d taken Autumn out last night, but when he got in, Mike had asked him where he’d been and he’d felt too old to lie to his dad about that sort of thing. He’d also been frustrated by the fact that Autumn felt she couldn’t tell anyone they’d been together, so he’d done the exact opposite and been up-front. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “It’s new—too new to call. I just want to meet her kids.”
Fiona, who’d been a smoker as far back as Quinn could remember, gave a throaty laugh. “It might be new, but I haven’t seen you get excited about anyone else.”
He didn’t say anything.
“No salacious info?” she said. “Then you can have the table for twenty dollars.”
“Twenty dollars!” he echoed. “You think they’d tip you that much?”
“It’s not about what they’d tip. It’s about how badly you want the table,” she said with a wink.
He rolled his eyes—then jumped when she slapped his ass as he walked by. He would’ve made a joke about sexual harassment in the workplace—they teased each other constantly—but he knew she wasn’t making any sort of move on him. She was older than his father and a little eccentric, all part of her charm.
She told him which table it was and heated the dip while he made Caden’s sandwich. After they arranged everything on a tray, she let him carry it out.
The restaurant wasn’t full quite yet—it always did a bigger dinner business than lunch business—so he spotted Autumn’s kids easily enough. Autumn’s daughter was a beautiful young girl with brown eyes and thick, dark hair that tumbled around her shoulders. Her son had the same color of eyes and hair and looked more like a man than a boy—with the beard growth he was starting to get. Caden was probably taller than Quinn was. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Quinn. Your mother and I went to high school together.”
The girl smiled politely but put up a hand when he started to unload the tray. “I’m sorry—this isn’t our food,” she said. “I just got the potato soup.”
“And I got the clam chowder,” Caden said.
“I know,” Quinn told them. “This is on me.”
“On you?” Taylor echoed uncertainly.
“My treat. There will be no bill to pay today.”
“But we can’t eat for free,” Taylor said. “Our mother wouldn’t want us to take advantage. She—she doesn’t even know we’re here. We just thought...well, Caden was craving some clam chowder, so we decided to come in and try yours.”
“I’m glad you did,” he said. “You’re not taking advantage. We’re grateful for your mother’s help with the fundraiser, and this is our way of showing it.”
“Oh!” Caden perked up at the idea that he might be able to accept, after all. “Thank you. This looks great. But...are you sure?”
Quinn couldn’t help smiling. He’d always wanted to have children. Autumn was lucky to have these two. “I’m positive. If I took this back now that it’s been out of the kitchen, I’d just have to throw it away. You might as well eat it.”
“If you say so,” Caden said, suddenly eager to oblige, and pointed at the appetizer Quinn had just put in the middle of the table. “Is that the artichoke dip I saw on the menu?”
“It is.”
“That looks so good. I’m excited to try it.”
“Enjoy,” he said and started to walk away, but Caden spoke again.
“What’d you say your name was?”
“Quinn. My father owns this place.”
“He does?” He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
“Thank you.”
“I helped pass out flyers,” he said proudly. “That’s how I know.”
“I appreciate your help. Where’s your mother right now? She won’t be joining you today?”
“No, she’s helping at the bookstore my grandma owns. I’ll be going over there after this to work on their website.”
“I see. Well, I’m glad you both came in. Are you missing Tampa?”
“Not really,” Caden said. “I like it better here.”
“What about you?” Quinn directed the same question to Autumn’s daughter.
“I like it better here, too,” she said, but she seemed self-conscious and more subdued than her brother.
“Good. Enjoy your lunch. And before you go, I have something I’d like to send to your mother, since you’re going over to the bookstore, anyway. Would that be okay?”
“Sure,” Caden said, and Quinn made himself leave them alone even though he wanted to talk longer. He was curious about what their father had been like, for one.
“So? What do you think?” his father asked as soon as he returned to the kitchen.