The Bookstore on the Beach - Brenda Novak Page 0,84
a wife not support her husband’s relationship with his own parents?”
He motioned at the food. “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.”
She tasted the soup and nodded appreciatively. “This is good. Really good.”
“Thanks.” His boyish smile was endearing.
“So...are you going to answer my question?” she asked.
He grimaced. “Sarah got jealous every time I spoke to my folks, insisted we stay with her family whenever we came back, got angry when I would fly home to see my mother once she got cancer the first time and would punish me when I got back in whatever small ways she could—withhold sex, disappear overnight so I’d worry or think she was with another man, leave me scathing messages on my voice mail or charge into my office, screaming at me. That sort of thing.”
“I’m beginning to wonder how you stayed in that marriage as long as you did.”
“I didn’t want to fail,” he explained, starting on his salad first. “I hated the idea of being divorced. That’s what it came down to. That and my own stubbornness, I guess. I felt sorry for Sarah, fully believed if only I could fulfill her, she’d calm down and be happy—at last.”
“That’s not so unusual, I guess. Most people like to feel needed.”
“I was being naive. There was no fulfilling her. Her behavior only got worse and worse.” He picked up his spoon to switch to his soup. “But I don’t want to talk about her. Not tonight.”
Autumn held her wineglass loosely in one hand while she watched him eat. “Okay. Back to the other subject. You still haven’t told me how your parents knew it was me you were cooking for tonight.”
“On second thought, maybe we should keep talking about Sarah,” he joked.
She chuckled. “Come on.”
“It’s no big deal. My parents know you’re back in town. They know I already took you out once. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t keep it a secret from them.”
She didn’t want anyone to know, but he was living with them. She could see how silly it would seem for him to lie about where he was going. “Are they aware of how I felt about you in high school?”
His smile grew lopsided. “Yes. My father saw us when we were in the tree house all those years ago.”
“He what?” she cried. “I don’t remember that!”
“He didn’t want to embarrass you, so he waited until you were gone. But then he sat me down, gave me a stern lecture and grounded me for two weeks.”
She squeezed her forehead with one hand. “I’m mortified. What did he say? That if you weren’t careful you’d get some girl pregnant and ruin your future?”
“No. We’d already been over the whole birth control issue—many times. If you’ll remember, I was prepared.”
She felt her face grow even hotter. “Yes, I remember.” She also remembered how careful Quinn had been when he pushed inside her. Knowing it was her first time he’d been trying not to hurt her. The way he’d behaved, his basic kindness, was probably why she didn’t end up hating him after he went back to Sarah.
He leaned forward, a nostalgic expression on his face. “He was trying to teach me to be careful with a woman’s heart. He explained that it was wrong of me to take advantage of your feelings.”
“Your father’s a good man. But he should’ve had a talk with me, too, and explained that stalking isn’t right, either. I must’ve driven past your house three or four times a night.”
Quinn laughed with her. “I remember.”
“You knew?”
“Of course. You came by so often I couldn’t miss it.”
“Ugh!” she groaned. “What was I thinking?”
“You’re making too big a deal out of it. We were just kids. Isn’t that what you said to me in the bookstore?”
“Yes. But I’ll never be able to look your father in the eye again.”
“Oh, come on. He really likes you.” He frowned as he finished his soup. “I shouldn’t have told you. I thought you’d think it was funny.”
“Hilarious,” she said drily but that only made him laugh harder. “You’re terrible.”
He reached out to touch her arm. “I’ll quit teasing you.”
“Does your mother know about the tree house, too?” she asked with a sulky glance.
“I have no idea. But even if she did, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell you now.”
“Good. Forget I asked, because I don’t really want to know.” She tore off a piece of her roll and shoved it into her mouth.