Saxon's Savior (Protect and Serve #3) - Pandora Pine Page 0,14
seen Mandy upstairs when the alarm went off. “Sounds good.” My stomach rumbled in response. “She’s one hell of a lady. Didn’t know me from Adam but was here to take care of me last night.”
“Mandy’s your mom too.” Quentin laughed. “She’s famous for taking in strays.”
I wasn’t keen on being a stray, even though that’s exactly what I was. Instead of offending the only friend I’d made since coming to Gloucester, I nodded and followed the youngest member of the McCoy clan up to the kitchen.
Quentin got fresh ingredients out of the fridge while I sat on a stool at the bar watching him crack and beat eggs before cutting an onion and a green pepper. I knew I needed to say something, but what?
“My brain is scrambled like those eggs, but I think I remember someone saying you had just come back from somewhere out west. Wyoming, was it?”
Right before my eyes, the easygoing smile on Quentin’s face fell. The line of his jaw hardened, and he turned from me to dump the wet omelet into the frying pan. It hissed and started crackling. When I thought he wasn’t going to answer me, Quentin responded with one word. “Colorado.”
Shit, I’d really put my foot in it now. I had no idea how to save myself or the tiny flame of this fledgling friendship.
“I joined the Army after high school. Trained to be a soldier and then a pilot.” Quentin turned to face me. His lips were twisted in a bitter smile. “Mom begged me not to re-up for a second tour, but I didn’t listen to her. I got this for my troubles.” He fisted his right hand and knocked it against his left thigh. Whatever he hit made a solid thunk under his fist.
A moment later it hit me. Prosthetic leg. Oh, Jesus. Helpless, I felt my mouth drop open.
“Don’t give me that pity look,” Quentin’s voice was harsh. “I was one of the lucky ones. Three members of my team were sent stateside in flag-draped coffins.
Christ, I didn’t know what the hell to say. I took a deep breath and prayed whatever tumbled out of my mouth was the right thing to say. “I always wanted to be the Six Million Dollar Man when I was a kid. Does the bionic leg live up to the hype?”
Quentin’s hands balled into fist. His dark gaze bore into me as if he were frisking my soul. Just when I thought he was going to finish what the car explosion started, he burst out laughing. I watched as all the built-up tension drained from his body like someone pulled his plug. He turned back to the pan, still chuckling, before sliding the perfect omelet onto my plate. “Dig in.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I’d never tasted anything so good in my life. Neither of my parents had time to cook when we were growing up. We ate a lot of frozen lasagna and take-out. I’d learned how to manage on my own. I could make salads and burgers, but I was nowhere close to being the kind of cook Quentin was.
“Mom and Dad gave all of us chores. We had to set the table, do the dishes, mow the lawn, and learn how to cook. When you’re placed in a foster home, you never know how long you’ll be there for. Could be a day, could be until you turn eighteen. Mom wanted to make sure we’d leave her house knowing how to fend for ourselves. “
I had so many questions about Quentin’s childhood. To be honest, I had a bunch about Dallas’s too. Maybe I could kill two birds with one stone. “You said earlier that your parents took in strays. How many of you kids were there?”
“Dozens. Like I said, some kids were temporary, they went back to their parents after a while or were sent to live with family if social services could find any. For kids like the four of us, Mandy knew we were meant to be her boys.”
“I thought there were five of you?” Shit, my brain ached. I hoped I didn’t sound like a complete fool.
“There are. Kennedy, Oz, Dallas, and me were foster kids. Hennessey is Mandy and David’s bio kid.”
Bio kid? “Oh, you mean biological. My fucking head is killing me.”
Quentin snorted. “You’ll be okay in a few days. What I don’t understand is why you’re recovering here at the firehouse instead of at home?”