Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“And let me guess…you want to use me as a distraction to keep her busy tomorrow while you move your stuff out.”
“Bingo,” Willow chimes in. “You guys are practically inseparable anyway.”
“Fine, but when this shit creeps down, you better let her know, you made me.” Jax and Willow both laugh.
When Quinn shoots me a message, saying Kinsley wants to get a pumpkin to decorate, an idea forms. “I think I can actually give you tonight and tomorrow,” I tell them. “I’ll text you in a little bit and let you know for sure.”
Sixteen
Quinn
“Are you going to tell us where we’re going?” I ask Lachlan for the fourth time in twenty minutes, well aware I sound like my five year old, but too nosey and nervous to care. When Lachlan texted and asked if I trusted him enough to let him take us away, I didn’t even have to think about it. I trust Lachlan with everything in me. And I loved that he was including my daughter. So, I packed Kinsley and me a bag, texted Jax to let him know we wouldn’t be home tonight so he wouldn’t worry, and waited for Lachlan to go home and get his stuff and then come to my house. He insisted on driving so I could relax, and I didn’t argue.
“Nope,” he says for the fourth time. “You’ll see when we get there.”
“Mommy,” Kinsley says, looking up from her coloring book. “Can Lachlan come to my birthday party?”
“Your birthday is coming up?” Lachlan asks.
“Yep!” Kinsley squeals. “I was born on Halloween!”
“When’s her birthday party?” he asks, his eyes darting from the road to me.
“Next Sunday,” I tell him. “We always do it the weekend before Halloween, so it doesn’t interfere with trick-or-treating.”
“How long have you known about it?”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this… “Invitations went out a few weeks ago.”
“You haven’t once mentioned it.”
“It’s not really a big deal.” I shrug. “It’s usually just her friends from school and family.”
He nods once. “Got it.”
When he goes quiet, I think about how I worded what I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think you would be interested in going to a child’s birthday party. I’m sure there are tons of adult parties going on with it being the weekend before Halloween.” Lachlan’s jaw ticks, and the act brings back memories of when Rick would get mad at me.
“Lachlan,” I say softly, trying to keep my composure. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, please?” This is when Rick would yell at me, blame me, and call me names. Mentally, I prepare myself for it, so I’m shocked when Lachlan takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips, giving each of my knuckles a kiss. We don’t show a lot of affection in front of Kinsley, but a few days ago when she asked if Lachlan was my boyfriend, we told her he was, and she seemed okay with it. I have no clue how this is all supposed to work, so I’m just going with my gut and taking it one day at a time.
“We’ll talk later,” he says.
“But…” I need to know what I did, so I can make it better.
“Not now,” he insists, his eyes darting back to Kinsley. “I promise we’ll talk later.” He gives me a comforting smile that calms my nerves.
The rest of the drive is spent with Kinsley telling Lachlan all about her upcoming party, who’s going, what the theme is, and what she’s going to be for Halloween. He listens intently to every word she says, and responds as if whatever she’s talking about is the most important thing he’s ever heard. A little over an hour later, we’re pulling up to what I assume is our destination. The sign reads: Westchester Bed and Breakfast.
We drive down a dirt road, and when we turn the bend, the most gorgeous cottage comes into view. It’s two stories tall with a beautiful wrap around porch on the bottom floor, complete with bench swings. Lachlan parks the SUV and then goes around to the back to get our stuff out.
“We’re sleeping here?” I ask dumbly.
“Yep. Grab Kinsley, and I’ll grab the stuff.”
The second we walk in, Lachlan’s name is called, and a young, petite, blond-haired woman comes scurrying out from behind the counter to greet him. “Ay, my sweet boy,” the woman says in a similar accent to Lachlan’s, only much, much heavier. “It’s been too long. How’s your ma? Your da?” She hugs him tightly then backs up. “I feel like I haven’t seen them in forever.”
“They’re good. They decided to stay in Galway through the holidays,” he tells her. Then he turns to me and Kinsley. “This is my girlfriend, Quinn, and her daughter, Kinsley. Ladies, this is my cousin Kiara. She owns this place with her husband, Kevin.”