No Strings Attached Page 6

What if my dad tells me to forget her? What then? Will I? Can I?

  Maybe he’ll have some advice for that too.

  Pulling into the long drive, I run a hand through my hair and down my face, rubbing my eyes roughly. The more I think about her, the more insane I start to feel… for her, about her… because of her. I try to pull myself together because I’d like to enjoy dinner before unleashing the therapist. When I see my mother peeking through the blinds, I know I can’t wait any longer, so I grab the bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers I brought from the passenger seat and head inside.

  “Jude,” my mother sighs, pulling me into her and kissing my cheek. “Honey, you look like you’ve had a rough day. Did you and Sebastian work today?”

  Kissing her cheek in return, I hand her the flowers and wine to take her mind off how I look.

  “No, Mom. It’s been a good day. I took Fergie to the park.”

  “Nice selection,” she says, eyeing the bottle as she takes it and walks toward the kitchen.

  I smile, loving her concern, but also the way she lets it drop. “Thanks, I thought it’d go well with meatloaf.”

  “Oh, I think it’d go well with a bologna sandwich,” she says, smirking over her shoulder. My mom’s not a lush, but she does love her wine. Okay, maybe she can be a lush.

  After hanging my jacket by the door, I walk into the kitchen to find my parents practically making out on the island. Most people would be grossed out by that, but not me. After twenty-five years of living in the same house as Susan and Keith Harris, I’m used to it. They’ve always been affectionate and have never hidden it from me or my sister. I think we had our first sex talk when I was eight. It was mostly the “women have vaginas, and men have penises” talk. When I was eleven, my dad sat me down and showed me diagrams of the female anatomy. It was scary and traumatizing, but when I was giving girls orgasms at the age of sixteen and all my friends were fumbling around with their dicks, it paid off.

  To say we’re all comfortable with our sexuality in this family would be an understatement.

  My dad is the first to notice I’m in the room, and he stands up straight, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses and smoothing his cardigan with a sly smile on his face. “Jude,” he says nonchalantly as he walks past me.

  “Good to see you too, Dad.”

  Going for the wineglasses, he says, “You haven’t been to Sunday dinner in a couple of weeks. How’s work been?”

  My mom uncorks the wine and pours five glasses, draining the bottle. Lucy and Will must be joining us.

  “Work’s been good. Busy. We’re pitching the McDavid account on Wednesday,” I tell him, taking the proffered glass from my mom.

  “That old man has more money than he knows what to do with. I hope they’re paying you handsomely.”

  I shrug, taking a whiff of the wine before swirling it around in my glass. “If we get the account, it’ll be my biggest one yet.”

  “That’s my boy.” My dad, looking proud, leans back in his chair as the front door opens and Lucy’s chipper voice filters in from the foyer.

  “Hi, baby,” my mom calls out, going to her and taking the bowl she’s carrying. They exchange a few words, and then I feel my sister’s dainty arm wrap around my neck.

  “How dare you leave us alone with these two weirdos,” she whispers.

  “I heard that,” Dad says.

  Will slaps me on the shoulder. “Hey, stranger. How’s the leg?”

  “All healed up,” I tell him, patting my leg for proof.

  Stealing a carrot from the bowl on the island, he asks, “So, are you back to incredible acts of stupidity?”

  “Nah, taking it easy for another week or so, just to make sure.”

  “Probably a good idea,” my dad says.

  My mother walks back in the kitchen and pats my cheek on her way by. “Next time, it could be your head. Or that pretty face.”

  “Mom.” I pull back from her, rolling my eyes.

  “Heaven forbid he messes up that pretty face,” Will teases.

  Groaning, I take a sip of my wine. “Let’s stop with the pretty business and just eat. I’m starving.”

  We all help finish setting the table and then my dad says grace.

  As we all begin to dig in, my mom pauses, sitting the salad bowl down beside my dad. Always the caretaker. “Will, did you get the final count for this weekend?”

  “Looks like we’re right under the two hundred mark,” he says, passing the mashed potatoes.

  Will and my mom have a big gig this coming weekend at the Hamilton’s’. Their grandson is turning one, and Harris and Co. Celebrations is turning their backyard into a legitimate circus, like with a Ferris Wheel and ponies and clowns. The whole fucking nine yards. The money these people pay to have magazine-worthy parties for children who will never remember them is ridiculous, but it’s good business for my mom and Will. They make a killing. My mom used to run the business by herself but then partnered with Will about six years ago. He had a party supply business my mom rented from, and after working together on several events, they decided to go into business together. And that’s how Lucy met Will.

  The rest is party-planning history.

  Lucy and Will’s wedding was one of the biggest in the Dallas-Fort Worth Area. People still talk about it. It was completely over the top, of course, but you know what people say: “everything’s bigger in Texas”, and parties thrown by the Harrises are no exception.

  “So, Jude, been on any dates lately?” my sister asks, while Mom and Will are still discussing their plans for the weekend.

  Lucy and my dad don’t work together, but they’re both very interested in my love life… too interested, if you ask me. I’m used to it, though. Between the two family love doctors and my mom and Will being nosey as fuck, there’s no such thing as privacy in this house.

  “Oh, yeah, son. Tell us about your latest conquest. It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned a girl. Surely you haven’t been so busy with work that it’s affecting your social life,” my dad goads.

  See what I mean?

  Usually, I don’t have a problem with giving them details because I’m not a repeater when it comes to women, but now—with Quinn—I’m finding it harder to share. But who knows? Maybe they can help me think of a way to get her interested in me. They’re professionals, right?

  “Well, Sebastian finally got me into that sex club he’s always talking about. We went a few weeks ago,” I start. They already know about the club. Sebastian is a fixture around here, being my best friend since college, and he’s very forthcoming about his sexual adventures, much to the enjoyment of my dad and Lucy.

  “Oh, man. Really? I’ve always wanted to go there. Think he could get me and Lucy in?” Will asks. At first, I think he’s joking, but then again, this is Will and Lucy.

  When my sister squeals and throws her arms around him, I know he’s totally serious. “That’s how we can celebrate our anniversary,” she exclaims.

  Ugh, I don’t even want to know about that. Adding that to my list of reasons brain bleach should be invented.

  “Anyway,” I continue, hoping to redirect the conversation. “After I observed a few times, I decided to get on stage and participate in an auction.”

  “I bet you raised the most money that night,” my mom says, beaming with pride.

  “With such a pretty face, how could he not?” Will jokes before I kick him under the table.

  I groan, raking my fingers through my hair. Maybe this is a bad idea. But I’m already committed, there would be no backing out at this point, so I keep going. “I have no idea how much money was spent on me. I kind of zoned out. All I know is that I was with the most amazing woman, and I can’t get her out of my head. I think I’m going crazy.”

  “You didn’t get her phone number?” Mom asks.

  “No, it’s not like that. You’re blindfolded while the bidding is going on, and you don’t get to see who you’re having sex with until you’re done. It’s suppos
ed to be completely anonymous. Believe me, I tried to get her info, and she threatened to have me thrown out.”

  Will looks shocked and lit up with delight. “Whoa. You mean there’s a woman out there that didn’t fall for the Harris charm?”

  This time, Lucy elbows her husband so I don’t have to kick him again.

  “Now, son, maybe you should go out with someone else. It’s possible you have that night built up too much in your head, and in reality, it wasn’t as great as you think. You may just need to try again with a new lady and see that it was just sex. It might be the anonymity and excitement of the bidding process that has you so...worked up.”

  My dad, the fucking expert. Literally.

  “Keith, I can’t believe you’d say that, knowing that’s how we met.” I swear, daggers are flying out of my mother’s eyes as she glares at my dad.

  I’m too pissed at what he said to even think about what my mom just announced. “It’s more than that. You know I’ve been with my share of women—”

  “And then some,” Will interjects.

  “Fuck off,” I tell Will before continuing. “Nothing has ever compared to the time I was with Quinn. Nothing. And trust me, I’ve tried to get her out of my mind, but I can’t.”

  My father smiles at my mom. “See, dear? I was just testing Jude. He seems pretty serious about her, and he knows her name.”

  Taking a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to relax. Just talking about her has my blood pressure rising. “Yeah, she’s the one who stitched up my leg in the ER. I saw her name tag.”

  “So, she didn’t give it to you?” I hate the way my mom’s face falls when she asks, so there’s no way I’m telling her about practically stalking Quinn at the hospital. It’s not my finest moment and I know she wouldn’t approve. Shit, in retrospect, even I don’t approve. The thought of anyone, including myself, putting Quinn in an uncomfortable or threatening position makes my stomach feel sick and my hackles raise.

  “Not exactly,” I admit, biting back the rush of emotions about this woman I hardly know. “But it’s okay now. We ran into each other at the dog park a few weeks ago and we’ve hung out a few times.”

  That puts a smile back on my mom’s face. “Well, that sounds promising!”

  “But,” I hesitate because it’s so fucking complicated. And the more I air my dirty laundry, the more I’m convinced this is a lost cause. “I’m afraid she’ll turn me down if I ask her out again.”

  Fuck me, I sound like a whiny bitch, but this is what she does to me.

  “I’ve never seen you this worked up over a girl before, Jude. I like it,” Lucy says. “It looks like you have your work cut out for you. Just don’t do anything stupid like cutting your other leg up just to see her at the hospital again.” She raises her eyebrow at me, daring me to lie and say the thought hasn’t entered my brain a million times by now.

  Me crossing my arms over my chest and rolling my eyes at her is the only response she gets.

  “It sounds like she has some walls up,” my dad adds. “I’d tread carefully. But be honest with her. Show her you’re a man with integrity, someone who’s trustworthy and dependable.” Finally, some good, applicable advice.

  I’m starting to understand why Quinn is still distant at times. Henry’s face comes to mind. If we start dating, it won’t just be me and her. Henry is her number-one priority, and I get it. I do. I’ve never dated a woman with a kid before, and I won’t deny being scared as shit, but I’m always up for a new adventure.

  Hopefully, in this one, we’ll all have fun and no one will get hurt.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate your input, but I need to backtrack for a minute.” I turn and look at my mother. “Mom, I thought Uncle Mark introduced you to Dad?”

  “Oh, well, he did… in a manner of speaking.” She fidgets with her fingers, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen my mother nervous. She and my dad have always been honest—sometimes too honest—with us about their relationship. “We met at a Greek function at our university that was being sponsored by your father and uncle’s fraternity. Mark did introduce us… right before your father went on stage for a bachelor auction.” She blushes before she continues. “I won him.”

  “Why would you keep that part of the story a secret?” Lucy asks.

  Mom blushes a little and I’m completely taken aback. She stares at her wineglass and then at my father. “I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be too shocking for you.”

  “You took me to a sex shop where there were dildos the size of my forearm for my eighteenth birthday, yet you didn’t think I could handle learning you bid on Dad for your first date?” Leave it to Lucy to pull out the big guns.

  The entire table is howling with laughter at this point.

  “All right, fine! It was a stupid secret to keep,” my mother admits, wiping the corners of her eyes. “But it was the best two hundred dollars I ever spent.”

  “I bet the frat could’ve raised even more money if sex had been part of the deal, huh, Jude?” My dad winks at me, and I’m actually thankful to have such understanding parents. It’ll make this thing with Quinn go a lot more smoothly, if I can ever get her to agree to a date and my parents don’t scare her off.

  My mom smiles, swatting at my dad. “What are you complaining about, Keith? You had plenty of sex that night, and you’ve been getting it ever since. I got a bargain, I tell ya!”

  Due to growing up with these two as parents, I never really understood the big deal about sex. It’s always been discussed as freely as the weather in our house. It wasn’t until I was a teenager and my friends started talking about it that I realized my parents were a different breed.

  “No complaints from me,” my dad retorts with a wink. “I’ll show you just how non-complaining I am as soon as we kick our children out.”

  Keith and Susan Harris, ladies and gentlemen.

  Chapter 9

  “What’s got you all riled up?” Sebastian asks as I chug my second beer.

  It’s not even two minutes into the first quarter of the Colts and Panthers game, and I honestly couldn’t give two shits about who wins. Normally, I pace myself and drink a beer a quarter, unless the Cowboys are playing. Then it’s a totally different ballgame. Sebastian and I usually have to take Tuesdays off when the Cowboys play on Monday nights, especially if they lose.

  I set my empty mug on the bar in front of me and glance back at the door. “I might’ve mentioned to Quinn that we come here every Monday night,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

  “Did you invite her?” he asks, giving me a half-smile before taking a sip of his beer.

  I don’t want to commit to the fact I invited her because then I’m going to look like the pathetic loser I am when she doesn’t show. “Maybe,” I finally say.

  “You either did or you didn’t.”

  Glancing over at the door for the millionth time, I admit, “I told her she should come.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “She blew me off, like she does every time I try to ask her out or try to get to know her better.”

  My frustration with this is growing exponentially by the second. Something has to give. Or I need a fucking lobotomy.

  “This woman knows how to play hard to get. I’ll give her that.”

  “I don’t think it’s just that,” I tell him, letting out a deep sigh. “I think there’s something else there. Her guard is always up.”

  “You said she has a kid,” Sebastian says, leaning on the bar. “Maybe she’s just being protective?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” The walls she has up could be because of Henry, but I still feel like there’s more to the story. In fact, I know there is. Like, where’s Henry’s dad? Who is Henry’s dad? Does she still see him? Have feelings for him? And there’s also that nagging thought that’s recently joined the cacophony in my brain: what if she’s married?

  There’s so much I don’t know about Quinn Roland.

&nb
sp; Sebastian turns his attention away from the large screen in front of us and levels me with his stare. “Are you more nervous she’s going to show up or that she’s going to blow you off?”

  “Don’t mention blowing and Quinn in the same sentence,” I say with a laugh, trying to diffuse some of the tension in my body. “My blue balls can’t take it.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  I divert my gaze back to the game and start picking at a plate of cheese fries sitting between us. “I don’t know, dude. Both, I guess.”

  I want her to show up, but if she does, then what?

  “Man, she’s got you so twisted.” Sebastian snickers, shaking his head.

  We sit and drink a couple more beers while watching the Panthers get the shit beat out of them. I continuously check the door, much to Sebastian’s amusement.

  After our halftime dart game, we settle back in at our spot at the bar. I glance at my watch and see that it’s after nine and wonder what Quinn’s doing, if she’s working or at home. For the millionth time over the past month, I wish I had her number.

  A catcall coming from the back of the bar makes me turn around to see a gorgeous brunette walk through the front door.

  My gorgeous brunette.

  Quinn flips the guy the bird. I smirk, watching her walk past the table and then scan the room. The fact she’s here makes my heart beat double-time. When her eyes meet mine, I swear a hint of a smile forms on her lips. She raises an eyebrow as if to say “I’m here”, like she’s not sure what she’s doing or if she should be here… but she’s here.

  What now?

  I slide off the barstool and meet her halfway.

  “Hey,” I say, walking up to her and slipping my hands in my pockets to keep myself from reaching out and pulling her to me.

  “Hey,” she says, looking around the bar. There’s something different about her. Her hair is in the messy bun I’ve seen her wear at the hospital, and she’s dressed in jeans and a sweater. Nothing out of the ordinary. I look down to see the combat boots firmly in place, like her armor, laced halfway up with the remainder of the laces wrapped around her ankles. When I make my way back up to her face, that’s when I see it—the slight hint of nervousness. She bites the corner of her mouth and her eyes continue to dance around the room. I can see the internal battle of her wondering if she’s making a mistake.