her into bed on the first date? Definitely more difficult, but he would manage somehow.
“Name your terms.”
“You don’t withdraw from Teton State College. You give it at least one more shot.”
Shit. She’d maneuvered him quite nicely. “Okay, sneaky professor. You’ve got yourself a deal. I won’t actually submit the paperwork out in my truck.”
It wasn’t going to make any difference. But he would give college one last shot next semester.
She smiled, and he realized this really had been important to her. “Tomorrow, four o’clock,” he said. “I missed our sunrise date, but I can still show you the sunset. Does that work for you?”
“Yes.”
He reached over to trail a finger down her cheek. “I’ll see you then. And for the record, no, we will not be forgetting about the eating of the cupcakes. I have a feeling I’ll be ninety years old and still remember eating cupcakes.”
Chapter Twelve
Driving home a couple hours later, Quinn’s car was running better than it had been, no doubt thanks to Baby.
She’d stayed at the diner after he’d left to finish grading some papers.
And because his parting line about the cupcakes had her squirming in her chair.
She should’ve said no to their date. What was the point in starting something like this with someone like him? There was nowhere for it to go.
But that was just it, wasn’t it?
Maybe it didn’t have to go anywhere. She’d spent the past ten years of her life trying to propel herself forward in her career and marriage. Always barreling ahead rather than appreciating what was around her.
Maybe for once, she could enjoy the experience. Experience the experience, without always wondering what was coming next.
Certainly, there was a lot to enjoy when it came to Baby Bollinger.
She wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with his college experience. Why would someone as intelligent as him be withdrawing from college altogether? That email she’d sent must’ve had some negative effect, despite his assurances otherwise. She would do everything in her power to help him be as successful as possible in his classes next semester. She’d have to learn more about whatever deadline he was talking about but—
She slammed on the brakes and swerved about a quarter mile from her house as a dog wandered out in front of her. They stared at each other through the windshield.
The poor thing looked hurt and hungry.
She put the car in park. This may not be the best idea, but she couldn’t just leave the dog here if it would let her help it.
Animals aren’t people, Quinn. They’re meant to provide entertainment for people who can’t appreciate the finer things in life.
She sat staring at the dog, Peter’s voice ringing in her head. He was probably right. She wouldn’t know how to care for a dog even if she could get this one to come with her.
But...she could try.
Experience the experience.
She opened the car door and the dog hobbled back toward the trees.
“Wait. I want to help you.”
The dog didn’t stop or respond. Big surprise. She watched as it limped farther away, then she got back in the car and drove the last minute to her house. Maybe she could buy some dog food and set it nearby. Something to help it if it was hungry.
It didn’t have to be her dog. Although she had to admit, she could identify with the creature: limping along with one leg broken out from under you, hungry, and scared.
Great. A stray dog was now the fitting metaphor for her life.
She parked at her rental house and went inside, letting out a sigh at the state of the place. She reminded herself that she was getting a great deal on rent, even by Wyoming standards. So what if the furniture was sparse—a single couch and coffee table in the living room, with no television and only one lamp. The kitchen had a table which sat two, but she rarely ate at it since it was so wobbly—one of the legs obviously shorter than the others.
Her bedroom consisted of a double bed and one dresser. She used a pile of her classical literature textbooks stacked on one another to form a nightstand. That had worked well enough that she’d done the same thing in the living room next to the couch.
So yes, her collection of the writings of Milton now had water stains on it from her setting glasses there.
Since it didn’t dampen her love for the author, she figured it was okay.