A reminder from the concierge beeped on his phone. Rooftop party in ten. Practice your social distancing. A sign that more pandemic restrictions were being lifted, but he didn’t give a flying fuck. He pictured pretty people clustered in small groups, engaged in a familiar mating dance he wanted no part of. A pang dug into his chest. God, he already missed Sarah.
He couldn’t do this.
With a sigh, he eyed his phone and dialed Paige. She picked up on the first ring. “Security system running okay?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s great. I was just wondering about the lease. It was for six months?”
“Yep, so you’re up at the end of next month, but you have an option to extend for another six.”
“I’d like to exercise that option. Can you set that up? I was also wondering if you could come by the condo and have a look. I’m thinking of putting it on the market.”
“Yes to both questions. I’d be delighted. By the way, I just went over Sarah’s recommendations on my build-out. She says you helped her. I had no idea you were an engineer too.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise. “She said that?”
“Yep. She was very complimentary. So I guess when your hockey career’s up, I can call on you too?” She let out a lilting laugh.
“Nah. She was just being generous. Anything I contributed—and I say that laughingly—was blown out of the water by her expertise. You’ve got a good structural engineer on your team. She knows her stuff.”
“I wholeheartedly agree. So will she and your mom be staying too?”
“Not sure yet. Still working out those details.”
“Well, no matter. Yours is the only name on the lease, so I’ll get the extension ready for your signature.”
He thanked her and hung up. A text blinked, and his pulse bumped up.
Sarah: Archer and I are back at Gage’s permanently. Mansion’s all yours.
His thumping heart sank to his stomach.
Quinn: You didn’t have to leave.
Sarah: I know. Just thought it would be easier on everyone.
His mind reeled. All he could think to text was, Do you think it’s safe?
Sarah: Yep. We’re Wolf-proof.
Whatever the hell that meant. At least Gage was there to protect her, though from the most recent report Quinn had received, Wolf was too busy juggling new trouble in Seattle to come Sarah-hunting. Accusations of fraud—brought by his wife, no less. What goes around … Quinn couldn’t think of a more deserving candidate.
Quinn: So you’re back in the Pepto-Bismol room?
Sarah: Just for a few days until we move and I have the guesthouse to myself.
His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. What could he say? Killing me here. Come back. I love you. No. She didn’t want him. She’d walked out. Instead he typed, Hope the move goes well. Thanks for letting me know.
He got a thumbs-up emoji in response. That was it, then. His heart constricted, on the verge of imploding.
Needing a lifeline, he dialed a different number.
“Mom? You and Dad busy? Can I stop by and say hey?”
His anger and hurt retreated a fraction when she said, “Of course! We’d love to see you.”
Quinn patted his belly in the tidy eat-in kitchen at his dad’s place. “Dad, that was great! Didn’t know you could cook.”
“Neither did I,” his dad chuckled, “until I had to live on my own. Your mom did make the potatoes.” His dad threw his mom a smile, and she beamed.
Quinn was surprisingly gratified by his dad’s efforts to please his mom, treating her with the reverence she deserved. Not to mention he was highly amused observing his dad trotting out a domestic side Quinn had never seen before.
Father and son worked side by side cleaning the kitchen while his mom lounged on the couch out of earshot. They talked about Quinn’s return to play, then Quinn asked his dad about his plans.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“But you’ll still coach, right?”
His dad shook his head. “It’s probably time for a change.” Pausing what he was doing, his dad turned and looked him dead in the eye. “I’m no good at it.”
Astonished, Quinn frowned. “Since when?”
An extended, cheek-puffing sigh. “Never had a winning season in Poland.”
“Because you didn’t have the right talent.”
“No, it goes way back. Started with you and your brother. I … I’ve needed to say this for a long time, but it isn’t easy, so bear with me.” His father’s voice shook, and Quinn could have sworn his eyes glazed. He swallowed around a lump in his throat and stood still as his dad continued. “I recognized you and your brother’s talent, so I pushed both of you. Too much, too hard. I thought Ronan had the better chance at The Show, and … In the end, Ronan didn’t make it, and that was my failure—on so many levels, especially with the accident. In the meantime, you were on the rise, and you were doing it without my help. Maybe that ate at me too. Bottom line, I messed up royally, and then I ran. Ran to Poland to lick my wounds and forget, I guess.
“I’ve regretted it every single day. If I had it to do over again, I would’ve stayed and confronted my demons like a man.” He paused and swiped a thumb over his eye. “I screwed everything up with my sons and my wife. For that, I’m truly sorry,” he choked.
Tears welled, pricking Quinn’s eyes. Stunned speechless, all he could think to do was draw his dad in for a fierce hug, pounding him on the back. “It’s okay, Dad. It turned out the way it was supposed to.” His dad returned the embrace, nodding against Quinn’s shoulder.
After a few moments, it grew awkward, so they pulled apart. Tears streaming down his face, his dad squeezed Quinn’s nape. “In
