How did this happen?

CHECKING MYSELF OVER IN the mirror one last time, I deem myself worthy of meeting Quinn’s family and the assface ex-husband. I opted for what my parents would call “country club casual” attire—khaki pants with a navy button-down—so I won’t be underdressed or overdressed. I know Quinn said to just be myself, but I can be myself and look good at the same time.

I must admit, I’m curious about her family and where she comes from. I never would’ve dreamed that her parents are ultraconservative and disapproved of her divorcing her cheating ex-husband.

Me: I’m on my way, be there in 15.

Red: Sounds good, see you then.

When I pull up in her driveway, I don’t remember driving here—I was so lost in thought that autopilot took over. Quinn opens the door wearing a powder blue sweater and a long navy skirt that swishes over the tops of her feet. The sweater is so soft, I can’t help but reach out and touch her, petting her shoulder and upper arm.

“Mmm, you wore this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“On purpose?” she asks, confusion making that adorable wrinkle on her forehead pop out.

“So I’d keep touching you. Don’t you know you don’t need a soft sweater for that? I already can’t keep my hands off you, now it’s just going to be worse,” I mock complain, leaning forward to gather her body close to mine and kiss her. “Did you miss me?”

She chuckles. “Oh, absolutely I did. For the whole two hours since I saw you last, I missed you terribly.” She’s joking, of course.

What’s pathetic is that I actually did miss her. Even after spending the day together yesterday, first at the zoo and then at her house. Even after spending the night inside of her. Even after waking up with her and showering with her and eating breakfast with her.

Even though we were only apart for two measly hours.

I still missed her.

Fucking hell. What is happening to me?

“You ready?” I ask her, trying to regain some control over my train of thought.

“Yes, let’s do this.”

Quinn gives me directions to her parents’ house and we’re there sooner than I expected. She looks at the front door with a scowl on her face, like she’s no more excited to be here than I am.

“You’re going to pay me for this in orgasms, right?” I leer at her, trying to distract her from her thoughts.

She turns to me with a playful smile. “Seriously? I didn’t give you enough orgasms over the last couple of days?”

I chuckle. “Nope. I want more.”

“Yes, Charlie, sex fiend that you are, I’ll owe you more orgasms after this.”

“Sounds good.” I reach over the center console for her hand. “I got your back, Quinn. You ready to go in there?”

She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and then nods.

We make our way to the front door and she rings the doorbell. An older version of Quinn—minus the red hair—answers the door. She has the same brown eyes, the same freckles dotting her skin, and the same frame as her daughter. They’re very similar, but her eyes don’t shine with mischief, her smile isn’t playful, and her hair is dark, almost black.

She looks from Quinn to me, a frown on her face. Did Quinn not tell her she was bringing me? I flash her my most charming smile, hoping to start off on the right foot. Moms usually love me.

Though I haven’t met many girlfriends’ moms, Anna’s mom loved me all those years ago, and Max’s mom and Logan’s mom love me.

“Hi Mom, this is my friend, Charlie. Remember I told you I was bringing a date?”

Manners force her to shake my hand. “Hi there, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Nice to meet you.”

“Charlie, is it? Hi, I’m Nora.” She gives me a small smile then focuses her attention back on her daughter.

“Quinn, you know Reid is here. This might make him uncomfortable.”

What the actual fuck?

Quinn stiffens beside me. “Seriously, Mom? You make me uncomfortable by inviting my ex-husband. Charlie is with me today. Do you want us to come in or not?”

Good girl. I wrap my arm around her waist, letting her know I’m right here, ready to stay or go, whatever she wants to do.

Her mom’s frown deepens and she wrings her hands together. “Come in, of course.” She opens the door and steps aside to let us pass.

Their house is modest with dated furniture and wood paneling on the walls, but the food smells amazing and my stomach rumbles at the aroma.

“Your father made pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I hope you like that, Charlie.”

“It smells amazing,” I tell her honestly.

I get the first genuine smile from Quinn’s mom, albeit small and brief.

People are talking in the next room. As we round the corner, I see a middle-aged man with dark hair, a thick beard, and fair skin talking with a very pretty girl and some other guy who I assume are Quinn’s sister and the douchebag. Quinn’s sister looks just like their mom, too, and the douchebag looks just as smarmy as I thought he would. He’s tall and skinny with brown hair slicked back (who the fuck wears their hair that way, anyway?) and brown eyes that laser in on Quinn and track her movements, lingering on our joint hands.

He totally wants her back.

“Hey everyone.” Quinn waves to the room with one hand while the other is still linked with mine. “This is Charlie. Charlie, this is my sister, Shannon, my dad, Liam, and my ex-husband, Reid.”

I shake everyone’s hand, squeezing Reid’s a tad more forcefully than necessary. He smiles pleasantly enough when he shakes my hand, but his eyes narrow in on me, as if warning me to stay away from his girl. Ha! I was balls deep in her just this morning.

After the introductions are over, I turn to Quinn. “You mean to tell me you are the only one in your family with red hair?” I touch her wild, curly locks, loving how soft her hair is.

“Ugh, tell me about it.” She rolls her eyes, as if she’s disgusted with her hair.

“She gets it from our grandmother,” Shannon informs me.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell her. Her expression softens at my compliment and I take the opportunity to make smarmy-pants jealous by pulling her into my side and kissing her temple. I linger, burrowing my nose in her hair and taking a sniff. She smells of something I can’t quite place but it makes me salivate all the same. Quinn wraps her arm around my waist, melting into me and holding on tight.

I check our audience. Reid is glaring at us—me in particular—and disapproval tugs Mr. Fitzpatrick’s mouth into a grimace, gaze bouncing from us to Reid with worry. Shannon looks at us with a small smile on her face. Seems about right.

“Well, is everyone hungry? The food is ready,” Quinn’s dad grumbles, motioning to the dining room.

Everyone murmurs their agreement and makes their way into the dining room while Quinn’s mom brings the food in from the kitchen. I keep Quinn by my side as the room empties and when we’re finally alone, I kiss her. Her mouth is delicious and it makes me forget this tense atmosphere. I’m used to feeling like an outcast at my family functions, but I want to distract her from her family drama. I take the kiss from respectable to porn-worthy, tilting her head with my hands so my tongue can reach inside. Mmm.

“Hey,” I say quietly, “you know what I’ve been thinking about?”

“What’s that?” She looks up at me.

I put my lips right at the shell of her ear. “Fucking your ass.”

“Charlie!” she exclaims, eyes darting around us to see if anyone could hear me.

“Calm your tits, Red. No one can hear. But after we leave here, we’re going to my place and I’m going to take your ass.”

“What if I don’t want to?” she whispers, smirking up at me.

“Trust me, once my tongue and fingers are done with that tight little hole, you’ll be begging for my cock.”

Her pupils dilate, her cheeks flush, and her nipples pebble with desire. She may sass me back, but she likes my dirty talk.

“Now come on, let’s get through this shit show. When it gets tense in there, just think about what your reward is when we leave.” Without waiting for a response, I tug her into the dining room and we take our places.

An awkward silence stretches while everyone fills their plates with food. It does smell delicious, and my stomach rumbles despite our company.

“So, how long have you guys known each other?” Shannon asks, a friendly smile on her face.

I turn to Quinn, trying to calculate the time.

“About eight months,” she answers.

Has it been that long? My eyebrows go up at the realization. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We met before Max’s accident.”

“Max?” Mrs. Fitzpatrick asks.

“Yeah, Monica’s boyfriend, Max. Remember when he was hit while riding his bike?” Quinn reminds her.

“Fiancé, now,” I correct.

“That’s right, I keep forgetting they’re engaged.”

“Monica’s getting married?” Shannon asks.

“Yep. Max is my best friend, and we met through Max and Monica,” I explain.

“Oh, how wonderful for Monica that she found someone to spend the rest of her life with,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick says, looking at Quinn meaningfully. She just glares back at her mother.

“I’m really happy for them. Max is devoted to her,” I say pointedly, looking at Reid.

“And what is it that you do for a living?” Reid asks, looking at me like I’m a bug he’d like to smash with his shoe.

“I’m a photographer,” I answer easily.

“Charlie works at Picture This. He’s one of the most requested photographers on their team,” Quinn tells everyone. Warmth blossoms in my belly at the pride in her voice—or is she just trying to stick it to Reid? Either way, I’m not accustomed to anyone bragging about my career other than Max and Logan, and it feels good to hear someone talk about my job in a positive light instead of a negative one.

“Oh, I’ve heard of Picture This,” Shannon chimes in. “How cool that you’re both artists. Have you seen Quinn’s studio?”

“Studio?” Reid asks.

“Yeah, she doesn’t need to rent a studio anymore, she has one in her place,” Shannon explains to him.

It’s then that I realize the place Quinn lives in now is the place she got after her divorce, so Reid has likely never been to her condo. I like the fact that I’ve fucked her in almost every room but he hasn’t even seen it.

“I’ve seen her studio, it’s amazing,” I say, looking over at Quinn, remembering how just last night we painted together again. In the same way that Quinn put a sexy spin on my guess stranger’s profession game at the zoo, I put a sexy spin on painting. My rule was that we had to paint naked, and it was very…inspiring. My thoughts drift further back to the very first time we painted together and I used a paintbrush on her pussy. Fuck, that was hot.

She holds my gaze and her cheeks flush, telling me she remembers exactly what I’m remembering.

“Charlie’s a talented painter, too. Suzanne’s going to sell his pieces at Art Redefined.”

“I don’t know about that…we have yet to see if anyone will buy my first piece,” I protest.

“It’ll sell. Suzanne was sure of it.”

“And how old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?” Mrs. Fitzpatrick asks me.

“26,” I report.

“Me, too,” Shannon tells me. “When is your birthday?”

“November 8th.”

“Mine is November 25th! We were both born in November, how about that?”

“So you’re six years younger than Quinn,” Reid helpfully points out. Give the man a cookie for being able to do basic math.

Quinn’s parents keep looking from me to Quinn with a frown. Not this age thing again.

“How’s work going at the studio?” Reid asks her. It’s the first time he’s addressed Quinn directly.

“Fine,” she says with hostility while glaring at him. “Not like you ever cared before,” she mutters.

“Are you making more money than you used to?” Reid asks.

Quinn stiffens beside me, as do I. What the fuck? That was way out of line. I don’t know exactly how much Quinn makes, but I know she does well for herself and lives comfortably selling her art. I’m waiting for her parents or sister to defend her, but Quinn doesn’t wait for anyone to jump to her aid.

“My income is none of your concern.” Her tone is ice.

“Just making sure you don’t need any help.” Condescension is in his every word, yet Quinn’s parents seem pleased by his comment, giving him a small smile. My fists clench and I hope I get to talk to this asswipe without any company at some point.

“Nope.” Her lips pop the P sound.

“So Shannon, Quinn tells me you’re a musician?” I attempt to redirect the conversation. Shannon smiles at me and excitedly tells the table all about her recent gigs and studio time. Quinn relaxes next to me and I give her a pointed look, trying to remind her about our previous conversation. Having finished my food, my hand drops to her thigh and I squeeze her leg, hoping my touch will help to distract her.

 

CHARLIE’S PRESENCE SHOULDN’T FEEL so comforting. The way he stiffened at my parents’ and Reid’s inappropriate comments shouldn’t make me feel like he’s on my team. The way he changed the subject when I was about to launch myself at Reid and claw his eyes out when he asked me about my income shouldn’t have made me relax. His ill-timed promise to fuck my ass when we leave definitely shouldn’t have lit me up inside, distracting me from my fucked-up family.

But…

Having Charlie here does all of the above.

My parents are NOT on my team, not even a little bit, and Shannon means well, but she hates confrontation, so she tends to get quiet instead of coming to my defense.

Charlie, though, hates Reid on principle. I could tell he was irritated with my mother’s comment at the front door when she said his presence would make Reid uncomfortable, and when Reid asked if I was making more money than I used to, I saw his fists clench as if he was ready to tackle him to the ground and beat him to a bloody pulp. He could, too—I bet Charlie outweighs him by 50 pounds of muscle.

It makes me feel better, knowing he’s on my side.

And…I can’t stop thinking about the promise of his mouth, fingers, and cock in my ass. His ploy to distract me is working.

I put my silverware on my plate even though I’m not done with my meal. My appetite is gone and I wonder what the hell we’re still doing here.

Once Shannon is done telling Charlie about her new guitar, I start to make our goodbyes. “Mom, Dad, thanks for having us, but I think we’re going to get going.”

“Oh wait, you can’t go yet,” Shannon pleads. “I made your favorite dessert. I just need to pop it in the oven so the marshmallows can get warm and gooey.”

The look in her eyes makes me hesitate. “You made the cookie s’mores?” My sister loves to bake and when I visited home during college, she would make me desserts to try to get me to stay longer. One of her concoctions is a layered dessert with cookie dough on the bottom, a layer of Hershey’s milk chocolate bars, a layer of marshmallows, topped off with another layer of cookie dough, chocolate chips, and graham cracker crust on top. When you cut into it, it’s an explosion of s’mores and chocolate chip cookies in your mouth.

I look over at Charlie and he nods, telling me it’s okay if I want to stay a bit longer.

“Okay, we’ll stay for dessert, but we have to get going after that.”

“I’ll go warm it up now,” Shannon says as she picks up her plate and takes it into the kitchen. I do the same and motion for Charlie to get his plate and follow me. I don’t want to leave him alone with my parents and Reid—who knows what they’d say to him, or what he’d say to them.

In the kitchen, I find Shannon sliding a glass pan into the oven. I collect the dishes, put them in the sink, and start to wash them. Surprisingly, Charlie gets a hand towel and starts to dry them.

Shannon leans on the counter next to us. “So how are you, honestly?” she asks me. I wish I were closer to my sister, and I’m glad we have a moment to talk.

“I’m good,” I tell her. “I just wish they’d stop inviting Reid here. It’s been two years since the divorce.”

“I know, when are they going to give it up already?” she agrees.

I shrug and roll my eyes in frustration. “What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Her face pinks. She may not have red hair like I do, but she does have the pale skin that tends to show every emotion in different shades of pink. “No, not really.”

Her words say no, but that blush says yes. “You are seeing someone!”

She looks back to Charlie and bites her lip.

“Don’t let me stop you.” Charlie chuckles. “I have to go to the bathroom anyway. Which way is it?” he asks me, drying the last plate and wiping his hands off on the towel.

“Down that hall, first door to your right.” Once he’s out of earshot, I turn back to Shannon. “Now spill.”

She smiles tentatively at me, hesitant to start.

“Come on! When’s the last time we had girl talk?” I prod.

“It’s not serious, but his name is Guy and he’s a singer.”

“Ooooh, a singer? How sexy. Would I have heard any of his songs?”

“No, he’s just starting out, but his voice…it’s so amazing. We met at the studio—he had time booked right before mine. When I showed up early for my session, I got to hear him sing. Then we started chatting after and have been out a few times, but I know neither one of us has time to dedicate to a relationship.”

“Then just have fun. Why does all dating need to equate to a serious relationship?”

“Is that what you’re doing with Charlie? Having fun? Or is it serious?”

Damn, this shouldn’t be a difficult question. Charlie and I are having fun.

We’re having fun in bed.

But…

I think of painting in my studio with Charlie.

Him crying in my arms after telling me about the baby.

The way he fucked me so reverently after the threesome with Tobias.

Strolling through the zoo yesterday, seeing him so cute with his camera and love of animals.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say we’re not serious, that we’re just friends who like to fuck, but my heart squeezes in my chest and my stomach churns at the thought.

Fucking hell. How did this happen?

“That look on your face is answer enough.” She gives me a knowing smile. “I know you haven’t wanted a relationship since Reid fucked you over, but don’t miss something amazing because you’re so focused on Reid. Charlie isn’t Reid. It’s not fair to him to treat him that way, and it’s not fair to yourself.”

I sigh dramatically, not having any words. I know she’s right, and I know Charlie and I should talk about what’s happening, but I kind of just want to stick my head in the sand for a little while longer.

The aroma of Shannon’s dessert fills the kitchen, giving me the subject change I need. “This smells divine! Is it ready to eat yet?”

Shannon opens the oven door just a bit to peek inside. “Looks ready to me. Let me take it out.” As she reaches for the oven mitt, I hear Charlie’s voice rising.

Charlie is not an angry person. Aside from his encounter with Anna, I’ve never seen him get mad, but I know Reid pissed him off earlier. As my thoughts race to figure out what’s going on, I meet Shannon’s worried face then dart from the kitchen to find out.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that!” I hear Charlie growl as I walk into the hallway.

“She didn’t tell you the whole story yet, did she?” Reid asks.

Oh no. My stomach drops and anxiety seeps into every cell in my body. No, no, no, no.

“Fuck off, you piece of shit. I may not know all of the details, but I know you cheated on your wife,” Charlie fires back. “What the fuck are you even doing here at her parents’ house? You didn’t do enough damage by fucking up your marriage? You have to show up at family dinners and make her uncomfortable too?”

“I was invited, unlike you.”

“Quinn invited me. You know coming around is not going to make her take you back. You should’ve cherished what you had with her when you had it, because she’s done with you, asswipe. You’re never getting her back.”

“Because of you?”

“No, because of you.”

I reach Charlie and put my hand on his arm. His muscles are tense, coiled and ready to strike. He turns at my touch and I see his cheeks are flushed in anger.

“Hey, you,” I whisper to him, wrapping my hand around his waist. He leans into me and wraps his arm around me protectively.

“What the fuck, Reid?” I glare at him.

He raises his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine.”

“How is Bambi, anyway?”

He raises his eyebrows at the mention of his secretary, the one I found him fucking in our bed.

“Barbara and I are no longer together.”

“Did you cheat on her, too?”

“I told you, sleeping with Barbara was a mistake, just something I had to get out of my system.”

A laugh jumps out of my throat, sounding more like a bark than anything. “Well, I’m so glad you got that out of your system. Why do you keep coming here? Why keep in touch with my parents?”

He eyes Charlie with disdain. “You’re my wife, Quinn.”

“Ex-wife.” He sounds like my parents—maybe they’ve brainwashed him. “I was your wife up until I found out you were fucking everyone else but me.”

“And why was that?” Oh, that asshole. He is not going to blame his affair on me.

“Because you made a choice, Reid. Don’t you dare put this one me. Your dick didn’t accidentally land in her cunt IN OUR BED,” I screech.

My body tenses, my blood pressure rising to a boiling point, and I’m about two seconds from losing my shit. This time, it’s Charlie soothing me.

“Okay, I think it’s time for us to go,” Charlie announces firmly.

“That sounds like the best idea ever.” We make our way to the kitchen and Shannon jumps from the entryway, totally eavesdropping, I’m sure. I would have, too, if I were in her position.

“Sorry, Shannon, but I’m going to pass on dessert.”

“No worries.” We hug briefly and head to the living room where my parents usually sit and relax after dinner. They definitely heard the entire exchange from here.

“Mom, Dad, we’re going to get going.”

“Thanks for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” Charlie says, nodding to them politely.

I don’t wait for them to stand up or respond. They’d probably say something in Reid’s defense, or tell me to watch my mouth. Their loyalty to a man who cheated on their daughter makes me sick. What kind of parents do that? Choose to side with an adulterer over their own flesh and blood?

I’m disappointed in their behavior tonight.

I’m also disappointed in myself for being disappointed, because it means I had expectations.

I take a deep breath as Charlie guides me outside, my hand secure in his.

As soon as we’re outside, he turns on me, pressing me up against the front door and kissing me soundly. It’s so unexpected, I stiffen up at first, but I don’t resist for long. He kisses me so hard my lips sting.

“You ready for your reward?”