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A Broken Soul(20)

By:Jessica Prince


By the time she made it back to me, I was one scone down and had already started sucking back my steaming cup of coffee. "So why the foul mood?" she asked, wiping the crumbs I'd left behind off the counter as she gave me that look. You know, the one that said she was in full on Mother Mode. "Does it have anything to do with whatever's causing those dark circles under your eyes?"

Grabbing a spoon from the counter, I held it up and tried to examine my warped image in the polished metal. Damn, I did have dark circles under my eyes. How had I not noticed that?

"You aren't sleeping, are you?" she continued in that motherly tone of voice. "Is there something going on?"

I should have known Chloe would be like a dog with a bone. During the months that Eliza was away in Denver, the woman nearly mothered me to death in an attempt to make up for missing her step-daughter.

"Just busy gearing up for the Winter Showcase," I lied, wanting to keep the truth about my father to myself for a little while longer. I spent my days and nights stuck in my own head, fretting over what I couldn't change. I couldn't bring myself to put words to it yet. It wasn't the most logical way of thinking, but part of me felt that by telling everyone in my life, by putting the truth out there into the universe, I could possibly lose him faster. And I wasn't ready for that.

Telling Quinn had been so much easier. He was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. And it wasn't lost on me that we shared something thanks to our grief. Maybe that was why I felt that strange connection. But either way, I just couldn't bring it up yet.

Her face pinched in concern. "You push yourself too hard."

I heaved a sigh and took another bite. "I'll be fine."

I watched as she geared herself up to argue, but the door from the kitchen swung open, and one of her employees came out, carrying an overloaded basket stuffed full of every pastry imaginable. I stared longingly at the basket of goodies. "Please tell me that's for me, and I'll love you forever." 

Chloe chuckled as she took the heaving basket from the poor girl who looked like she was about to collapse under the weight of it. "Sorry. This is for the guys at the fire station. I take a basket to them and the Sheriff's Department every month. Gotta keep our civil servants happy."

I cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "And it keeps you from getting traffic tickets."

She at least had the decency to blush a bit. "You'd have thought being the Sheriff's wife would come with those particular perks," she replied flatly, making me burst into laughter despite my exhaustion.

Another pack of customers hit the counter just then. Chloe looked from the quickly forming line, to the basket, to me, and I almost dreaded the question I knew was coming.

"Would you mind dropping this stuff off?" She pushed the basket in my direction and gave me a pitiful look. "Pretty please?"

I swallowed down the groan that wanted to come out. I'd been on the receiving end of Quinn's silent treatment the last several days. Traipsing onto his turf wasn't exactly something I wanted to do, but I couldn't say no to Chloe.

I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the basket and hefted it up, grunting at the unexpected weight of it. Who knew bread could weigh so much. "Fine. But if I strain a muscle, or throw my back out carrying this, I expect baked goods for life."

She laughed and waved me off. "Deal."

I moved slowly out of the restaurant toward my car, using the bulk of the basket as an excuse, when really I was just dreading a possible run-in with Quinn. If he was at the station, how would he act? Would he acknowledge me, or pretend I didn't exist? Would I be subjected to more of his coldness?

Trying to guess his mood was like trying to tell the time by the time of day by the sun. And considering I flunked out of Girl Scouts, it was safe to presume I could not do that.

I spent the entire - albeit short - drive to Pembrooke Fire Department worrying my bottom lip until I finally tasted blood. Why Quinn Mallick had such an intense reaction on me was anyone's guess.

When I pulled into the small parking lot in front of the brick building, I noticed the two big bay doors were open. I parked in the spot closest to one of the open bays in the hopes of getting in and out fast. Inhaling deeply, I shut the car off and opened my door, struggling to stand with the massive bundle of food in my hands. I couldn't even see over the top as I started walking in what I hoped was the direction of the door.

As I got closer, I started to hear voices, and breathed a sigh of relief when none of them sounded like Quinn. My relief, however, was short-lived when the toe of my shoe caught on a crack in the concrete. Thanks to the basket creating an off-balanced center of gravity I started going down …  fast. I let out a loud, startled squeak as I squeezed my eyes closed and braced for impact. I was fully prepared for it to hurt like a bitch - Chloe was going to owe me so huge - but a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist, catching me mid-fall, before I could face plant.