Not that they were fighting, really. They’d just not spoken in aweek. And the whole situation made her feel as precarious as her first attemptat a wedding cake.
The problem was that Quinn was so unlike Mel. Yet, Mel was heronly real frame of reference when it came to relationships. Quinn’s quietresignation left her uneasy and unsure.
Now she had to navigate Daniella’s revelation. It didn’t make anydifference in how her heart leaned, but it might influence Quinn. But would itultimately make Quinn more inclined to give them a chance, or less?
She’d just stalked away from the front door when the knock came.She spun around and hurried to open it, as if a second of hesitation might sendQuinn running in the opposite direction. She yanked open the door, halfexpecting to have to chase her down the sidewalk.
But instead of a hasty retreat, Quinn stood there, perfectlystill. Not statue stiff, but with that aura of calm about her. Only in thatmoment did she realize how used to Quinn’s energy she’d become. A sigh escapedher.
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh, my God. No. I didn’t mean it like that. I was—”
“I’m kidding.”
Cripes. She was wound tighter than a, well, something woundreally tight. “Sorry.”
“May I come in?”
She nodded more vigorously than was probably necessary andstepped back. “Please.”
“So, Daniella called you?”
Based on what Daniella had said, she had every reason to behopeful. But rational thought stood little chance against anxiety in fullbloom. “She did.”
“It was quite the day.” Quinn smiled, but shook her head.
“I want to hear everything or, at least, everything you’rewilling to share. Can I get you something? Tea? A glass of wine?” Part of herwanted a drink to smooth out the edges, but her stomach wanted nothing to dowith it.
“I’m okay. Do you want to sit?”
She nodded again, feeling like a bobble head doll. “Sure. Yes.”
They settled on the sofa, close but not quite touching. Quinngave her a sideways look. “How much did Daniella tell you?”
How much Daniella told Quinn felt like a more relevant question,but she resisted turning it around before giving her own answer. “I thinkpretty much everything she told you.”
Quinn shifted on the couch to face her. “Good.”
“I’m sorry for all this. It isn’t what you signed up for and itisn’t—”
Quinn lifted a hand. “You don’t need to apologize. Other thanyour kids, you never did anything to make me believe you had priorities orentanglements elsewhere.”
It wasn’t untrue. Even though she hadn’t told Quinn about it, shewas done with Mel before they’d had a real date. “Still, I could have been alot more direct with Mel and maybe prevented some of this.”
“Maybe.” Even as she conceded the point, Quinn sighed. “But ifI’d been less worried about being in her shadow, I could have prevented some ofthis, too.”
Amanda frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I think I alluded to it before, when Cal had his appendicitis.I’m not the big personality who commands attention the second I walk in theroom.”
But Mel was, in spades. “I don’t find that attractive. It isn’twhat I want.”
“I believe you. It’s just…” she paused, making Amanda wonder ifshe didn’t know what to say next or how to put it nicely. Eventually, shecontinued with, “Mel is that person. And I know you don’t want to be with her,but she—”
“Swoops in and sucks up all the oxygen.” How could she have notseen that?
Quinn lifted a shoulder and angled her head. “I don’t like tothink I’m one to constantly compare myself to other people.”
“But the last few weeks have made it pretty impossible not to.”
She offered a half smile. “Something like that.”
“What can I do to make it up to you? Or to make it so you don’tworry about that anymore.”
Quinn sat up straighter. “I’ve realized I’ve been an idiot, sothere isn’t anything you need to do.”
“You haven’t been an idiot.” If anyone had, it had been her.
“I have, because I let insecurity get the better of me. But I’mnot that person. I know what I have to offer.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. “I like what you have tooffer.”
“I know. And same, for the record. I like everything about you.”
“Even the fact that I have an obnoxious ex and a tendency to bebossy?”
“Your ex is of no consequence and I like that you’re bossy.”Quinn angled her head slightly. “I like it even more when bossy you lets meboss you around.”
The comment sent a burst of heat right through her. It settledsomewhere south of her stomach. Something about Quinn had changed. Not changed,maybe, but shifted. Something she’d gotten glimpses of here and there—when theywere hiking, or in bed. It took her a moment to find the right word, but whenit hit her, there was no mistaking it. Quinn Sullivan was confident. Sodifferent from Mel’s self-assured charm, this was subtle, like Quinn herself.But it was there and it was clear and it was sexy as fuck.
“What?”
They were supposed to be having a heart-to-heart. Admitting hermind had steered in the direction of bed probably wasn’t the best course ofaction. “Nothing.”
“Come on. We just cleared the air. You can’t hold out on me now.”She said it in kind of a joking way, but not. That confidence again.
She cleared her throat. “I was thinking how much I like this sideof you. How good it looks on you.”
Quinn merely raised a brow. She seemed to be enjoying watchingAmanda squirm. How delightful was that?
Amanda shook her head. She was going to have to own it. “It’ssexy, okay? This side of you is sexy.”
Quinn’s smile was slow, and it upped the sexy factor abouttenfold. “Is that so?”
“I know. I know. We’re talking about relationships and making itwork and I’m thinking about getting in your pants. It’s terrible.”
“I wouldn’t say terrible.” Her eyes danced with humor.
“You can stop making fun of me anytime.”
“Who’s making fun? An interesting and robust sex life is anessential component to a healthy relationship. At least in my book.”
“Right.” Maybe being teased about how much she wanted Quinnwasn’t the worst thing.
“I mean, since we sorted out the emotional details, it seems likewe should probably tend that part
