Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (13 page)

“Please, Sam,” he said softly. “Just for a few minutes.”

A war of emotions crossed her face. Quinn felt enormous relief when instead of saying
no again, she nodded and said, “Fine. Let’s go out to the porch.”

The woman holding the door, Savannah apparently, said, “Sammie, you don’t have to
do this.”

“I know that, Savvy. I’ll be fine.”

She gave her sister a strained smile, but when she turned her gaze back to him, the
smile was gone. “Let’s go.”

Quinn backed away and stood on the porch. Feeling about as unsure and insecure as
he’d ever felt in his life, he waited for her to join him.

She closed the door behind her and turned to him. “Say what you came to say.”

“Have you been sick?”

She jerked as if he’d hit her. Dammit, an apology should have been the first thing
out of his mouth, not a comment on her appearance. Concern for her health overrode
his need for forgiveness.

Her answer was a curt “No” as the ice in her eyes froze harder.

Quinn tried again. “I’m sorry, Sam. For everything.”

She considered him for several seconds. Quinn withstood the scrutiny, barely. What
he wanted more than anything was to gather her in his arms and show her how very sorry
he was and how much he had missed her.

“Apology accepted. Goodbye.” She turned away from him as if she were going back into
the house.

“Dammit all.” Quinn grabbed her arm to pull her around and almost gasped at the bone-thinness
of her forearm. “Shit, Samantha. How much weight have you lost? Are you not eating?
What’s wrong with you?”

“Quinn, you’re not my doctor nor are you anyone who has a right to ask that question.
You did what you came here to do. You’ve apologized. Now you can leave.”

“It wasn’t all one-sided, you know. You thought I was guilty of murder.”

“For which I’ve apologized. We both screwed up. We’re both sorry. End of story.”

“No, it’s not the end of the story by a long stretch. I know I messed up and I want
to make it right.”

She blew out a sigh, and for the first time since he arrived, there was the slightest
thawing in her expression. “We were both guilty, Quinn. I’m sorry for not believing
in you; you’re sorry for …” She swallowed hard and then continued, “The things you
said. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“I don’t want us to be over, Sam.”

“Haven’t you learned by now that people rarely get what they want?” Her smile was
sad but resigned. “We’ve been over a long time, Quinn. Maybe even before we started.”

Turning her back on him, she walked to the front door and opened it. Before she disappeared
inside, she said softly, “Some things just aren’t meant to be. Have a good life.”

She closed the door and was gone.

Quinn stood on the porch, staring at the door.
Aren’t meant to be? Like hell
.

Striding from the porch, Quinn jumped into his car and drove away. He might not know
exactly what he was going to do, but one thing he knew for sure—he and Samantha Wilde
were not over. No way in hell was this the end.

Samantha sat alone on the sofa in the family room. Savvy had tried to get her to talk,
but she had no words for what she was feeling. Besides, if she talked, she’d turn
into a sobbing mess. She hadn’t cried since before all of this began. Deep-freezing
her emotions had shut down the waterworks. But now, as if a massive heater had been
turned on full blast, a major thaw was taking place.

Saying goodbye to Quinn this time had been even harder than the last. It was obvious
he felt bad about what happened. She felt bad about it, too, but it didn’t change
anything. She couldn’t go through that pain again. Not ever.

“Are you okay?”

She turned to see Bri standing at the doorway, her green eyes filled with compassion
and understanding.

“Who’s with Lauren?” Samantha winced at the raw sound to her voice.

“Brody and Logan.”

A smile stretched her lips, which felt odd, since smiling was the last thing she felt
like doing. “Fifty bucks if one of them isn’t in love with her by the end of the week.”

Bri laughed softly and settled onto the sofa beside her. “You’re on, but I think they’re
smarter than that.”

“Love can wreak havoc with the smartest people.”

“I know,” Bri said.

The sadness in her sister’s voice made Samantha feel even worse. Hell, what did she
have to complain about? Bri was the one whose heart had been crushed twice—by the
same man. Compared to that, Samantha knew her heartache was minuscule.

A small, soft hand touched her hair in a gentle caress. In an instant, Samantha gave
up all pretense of being strong. Moving to the middle of the sofa, she put her head
in Bri’s lap and allowed the heartbreak to overtake her.

Only vaguely aware of her surroundings, she barely felt it when Savvy sat on the other
side of her and began rubbing her arm and shoulder. Gentle words of comfort came from
both sisters as Samantha at last gave in to her grief.

She had bottled everything up, worn herself out with work and anything else she could
occupy her mind with. Human needs like eating and sleeping had become unimportant
and sometimes impossible. Both Savvy and Bri had encouraged her to cry, but she hadn’t
been able to let go. Seeing Quinn had allowed that to happen. At least he had given
her that.

Minutes later, shuddering out breaths, she raised her head and sat up. Tear-filled
eyes blurred the images of her sisters, but she saw that both of them had tears in
their eyes, too. Sniffing mightily, she said, “Who knew I had all those waterworks
in me?”

Savvy took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I think those tears have been a long
time coming.”

“And now maybe you can let him go for good,” Bri said.

“Did crying work for you?” Samantha asked.

“No. I was too mad to cry.”

While Samantha knew that wasn’t true, she wasn’t
going to push it. The Wilde sisters had a lot in common, but they each handled grief
in their own unique way. Savvy’s had always been more open and out there. Samantha’s
had been bottled up for years. And Bri rebelled against every heartache as if each
one were a demon she had to slay.

“Why do you think he came?” Savvy asked.

“To apologize. He said he was sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Bri snarled. “Treating you like a whore or costing you your job?”

“He didn’t cost me my job. I chose to quit.”

“But he’s—”

“That’s enough, Bri. Sammie doesn’t need lectures.”

Smiling at Savvy’s warning and the corresponding huff of exasperation from Bri, she
put an arm around each sister and pulled them close for a quick hug. “What would I
do without you guys?”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Savvy said as she stood. “Now, who’s hungry?”

A surprising answering growl came from her stomach, the first one in months. Perhaps
this was what she had needed after all—an apology from Quinn and a cathartic cry.
Life could apparently now return to normal. She got to her feet. “Let’s load up and
head to Captain Jimmy’s. I’m in the mood for their seafood extravaganza.”

Her delight apparent, Savvy practically ran out of the room. “Let me call Zach to
see if he can meet us there.”

Samantha turned back to Bri and said, “Did you learn anything from Lauren today?”

She snorted. “Almost nothing. I swear the woman can talk a blue streak and say absolutely
nothing.”

“Do you think she’s lying and doesn’t really know anything?”

“Beats me. I’m hoping Brody and Logan can spur some
kind of openness. I think you’re right about her being more comfortable talking to
a man.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that they both look like male models, either.”

Bri looked genuinely shocked. “You think?”

“You don’t?”

“I guess I haven’t noticed. Maybe I should take another look.”

Samantha considered her sister for several seconds. Bri had always been able to put
on a brave face, but her sisters could read her better than anyone. The teasing glint
in Bri’s eyes hid a deep hurt only a few people knew about.

“You know, just because a man is good-looking doesn’t mean he’s scum. Not all men
are like your ex-fiancé.”

“I know that. Have you forgotten that my best friend is the most gorgeous man on the
planet?” She headed to the door, a clear indicator the conversation was over.

Bri’s best friend, Ian Mackenzie, had been her partner in their private investigation
firm. When the Wildefire Agency was created, Bri had left him and the business behind.
And while she swore there was nothing more than friendship between them, neither Samantha
nor Savvy was convinced. Bri had definite feelings for the man, whether she wanted
to acknowledge them or not.

The ringing doorbell stopped any further conversation they might have had. Samantha
held her breath as Bri headed for the door. Had Quinn returned? She told herself she
didn’t want to see him, but if that was true, why was her heart racing in anticipation?

“I swan, Sabrina Sage, every time I see you, you’ve gotten prettier. Are you letting
your hair grow out? I remember when it was longer than Samantha’s. Hasn’t it gotten
cold out? This winter might just give us our first snowfall in nigh on fifty years.”

Samantha exhaled with a sigh, which she told herself
was from relief, not disappointment. Gibby Wilcox, their aunt, was like a little whirlwind,
sweeping through the door and sucking up all available air.

“We’re just about to go to dinner at Captain Jimmy’s. You want to go with us?”

Bri had asked the question, but Gibby’s eyes zeroed in on Samantha, who stood a few
feet away. “And are you planning on coming, too, young lady?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“To eat?”

Surprised she still had laughter left inside her, Samantha chuckled. “Yes, ma’am,
to eat.”

Beaming, Gibby answered, “Well, alrighty then, I’m sure not about to pass up a chance
to clog my arteries a little. They need a good challenge.”

Her sadness pushed aside for the time being, Samantha wrapped an arm around her aunt’s
shoulders and walked with her to the door. “Then let’s go. I’m starving.”

And she was pleased to realize that while “starving” wasn’t accurate, she was at least
hungry. Quinn was out of her life forever. Maybe now the sadness and heartache could
be put behind her for good.

Quinn drove through downtown Midnight. Sam had told him a little about her hometown,
but seeing it up close and personal made him more aware of who Samantha Wilde really
was—a small-town girl with somewhat old-fashioned values. Other than her beauty, that
was one of the things that had attracted him to her. He’d never seen such a unique
blend of confidence and shyness. The first time she had smiled at him, he had been
mesmerized, but it had been her first blush that had captivated and ensnared him.

He turned onto Magnolia Avenue and smiled at the
sight before him: a large fountain in the middle of the town square in the shape of
a mimosa tree. He could only imagine that a much younger Sam had stood at the fountain
and made wishes for her future. A grim thought wiped the smile off his face. One thing
he was sure she hadn’t wished for was an asshole like him in her life.

He turned a corner and spotted a restaurant with a sign in the window proudly claiming
they served the best fried green tomatoes in Alabama. Quinn parked in front of Faye’s
Diner and got out of his car. Five seconds inside the restaurant, he became the center
of attention. All conversations stopped and there wasn’t one person in the crowded
restaurant who seemed embarrassed to be staring.

Torn between backing out and shouting a big hello to the room at large, Quinn instead
nodded to no one in particular, pulled out a stool at the counter, and sat. A tall,
broad-shouldered woman with a fierce scowl and a slight mustache growled at him from
behind the counter, “Whatcha want?”

He glanced up at the daily specials displayed on the wall. “Cheese grits and shrimp
any good here?”

“If I make it, it’s good.”

“I’ll have that with a glass of unsweet tea.”

The woman glared at him as if he’d asked for an illegal substance.

“Something wrong?”

She shrugged, turned around, and shouted, “Give me a special and a fancy tea.”

“Unsweet tea is fancy?”

Instead of answering, she gave him another glare and walked away.

A small, wizened-looking elderly woman hopped up on the stool next to him with the
energy of a teenager. She grinned, showing an impressive mouthful of gleaming
dentures. “Don’t pay Faye no mind. She got up on the wrong side of the bed fifty-five
years ago and she ain’t got over it.”

Quinn backed away from the overwhelming scent of garlic emanating from the woman and
asked, “That right?”

“You just passing through?”

“Yes … maybe.”

“You don’t know?”

No, for the first time in years, he had no clue what he was going to do. He’d taken
time off—two weeks. Considering the relief on the face of the ER department head,
he probably could have taken off a month without any complaint. But that was another
worry for another day.

What he had hoped to do was ask for Sam’s forgiveness and whisk her away to the beach
to begin making it up to her for being such a jerk. Overconfident jerk that he was,
he hadn’t counted on her response. But damned if he would give up.

“If I do decide to hang around a few days, know a place I can stay?”

“There’s a no-tell motel over on the bypass, but you don’t look that type. Molly Hanks
has a bed-and-breakfast on Cherry Lane. She usually closes down in November until
after the holidays, but I’ll bet she’ll make an exception for you.”

“I would hate to put her—”

The elderly woman waved away his objection and to his surprise pulled out an iPhone
and proceeded to punch in a number. He listened as she arranged for Molly Hanks to
open her bed-and-breakfast just for Quinn.