Fireworks: A Holiday Bad Boy Romance (57 page)

"Did she
cheat on you?" The question fell heavy between us. "You know that
inappropriate sexual encounters are a sign of bi-polar disorder. As are the
mood swings, anxiety, and paranoia."

"Your mother
does not need excuses for her behavior. She's a full grown woman and she owns
what she has done," my father said. "Someday, you might understand
that."

"I am glad
that you worked through whatever problems you had, but you have to understand
this is more than 'behavior.' She can't control it and it is wearing her down.
If she doesn't get some real support, things are only going to get worse."

"She has
support," my father said. "I support her, just like I've always
supported you and your sister."

I saw his throat
close over the mention of Sienna. My father tried hard to swallow and turned
away. I caught his arm before he could head down the hallway. "You have to
see the similarities between Mom and Sienna. Doesn't that scare you? Don't you
want to make sure something like that never happens again?"

My father jerked
back around and shook both hands at me. "I get how you are drawing
parallels between the two. Of course you are more sensitive to things like this
now. But that does not mean you are the only person in this family that is
seeing things in the right light. You're so lost right now, you don't even know
what right looks like."

I crossed my arms,
but his words had already hurt me. "You can't fix her. You couldn't help
Sienna. All you did was pretend everything was alright and let her keep her
eyes on the perfect future. You didn't fix the problems that weighed her down
every day. And you can't fix Mom either. Aren't you tired of trying on your
own?"

"Who's going
to help me?" My father's eyes were angry and distant. He ran his hands
through his hair, ragged and helpless.

"Me. I'm in
this family too. I know it’s been hard to see me with Mom and Sienna needing
all of your attention, but I can help. I'm here," I said.

"You're only
here because you screwed everything up at college," he said. His shoulders
slumped. "And I let you. You're right. I was so busy with your mother and
sister that I never saw what a mess you were getting yourself into."

"But I'm
fine!" I said. "When was the last time you saw me have a tantrum,
cry, hide out in my room, lose hope, or shut down? There have been plenty of
opportunities lately, but I think I've weathered it all."

My father looked
exhausted. The fight was finally leaving him. He leaned his back against the
wall and loosened his crossed arms. "You always bounced back," he
said. "Even as a little girl, you always bounced back. You know your
mother marvels at you for that very reason. She told me you have a new plan
already and that you're going to do it all yourself."

"First, I'm
going to help you come up with a plan for Mom," I said. "You should
ask Dr. Carson for a recommendation. Please, he's our family doctor. I can't
believe he hasn't recommended anything before."

"He
has," my father admitted. He pushed away from the wall and shuffled into
the living room.

We sat down
together on the couch.

He leaned forward
and put his head in his hands. "So, I will call Dr. Carson in the
morning."

"You know
that is fixing it," I said. "Helping Mom find someone to help her
understand and minimize the effects of bi-polar disorder is the best way you
can help her fix it."

He sat back and
gave a tired smile. "That's why I like the law. It’s got gray areas, but
if you set up your defense correctly, then the law falls in place neatly.
There's order to it."

"Well, if
you're looking for a win tonight I've got a good one for you," I said. I
knew he was exhausted, but I also knew my father could never resist a case.
Work had helped him get through so many of the other rough nights before.

"Alright,"
he said, sitting up a little straighter. "Give me the whole thing again.
From tonight. What did Trent say?"

"Trent said
that Owen's roommate Jasper left the party abruptly with Anya. Then, the police
showed up. The last two times, they have not found anything in Owen's apartment
and this time, they found marijuana on him. So, they've arrested him."

"Must have been
a lot. Intent to sell," my father said.

"No, I think
he might have resisted arrest," I said.

"He was
drinking?"

I took a deep
breath. "Yes. He actually got very drunk, very quickly, which was also
strange. And then when he went to lay down, Anya went in and was leaning over
him."

My father held up
his hand. "I don't need details from an unreliable witness. I'm assuming
your feelings for him are clouding your memory of that particular
incident."

"Yes, but
I'll be the first to admit I have no idea what I saw. She was leaning over him,
and her hair was in the way. It could have been a kiss, a conversation, or
anything. Whatever it was, there was plenty of time for her to plant something
on him," I said.

"So you
forgive Owen for whatever it was?"

It was my turn to
be defensive. "Why does that matter? You hate the idea of me being with
him."

"But you want
me to defend him. You are obviously willing to give him the benefit of the
doubt," he said.

"Innocent
until proven guilty, right?"

My father scowled.
"But you said he caught Sienna cheating on him. Are you sure this wasn't
all some twisted form of revenge? And, it would make sense if he turned to
drugs after finding out the girlfriend he dumped killed herself."

I winced at how
callously my father was able to discuss it. I knew he was looking at it from a
lawyer's perspective, but it was still Sienna he was talking about. "He
broke up with Sienna because he wanted to be free of it. Why would he then
change completely and decide to get revenge on me, of all people?"

"Alright. So,
he was intoxicated and allegedly kissing another woman at the party. He is not
the only one that will be affected by that line of inquiry. She'll be brought
into it, and you will, as well."

I shook my head.
"I don't need my feelings spared."

"So, you
would be able to forgive him if the truth was not what you wanted to
hear?"

"It was a
mistake, and I don't see how it can break the friendship we've had for years
and whatever else we have between us now." I held my breath. It felt
strange to admit there was something real between Owen and me now – strange,
but good.

"You two were
always a pair," my father said. "It was so strange, but you two were
always talking about the same things, laughing at the same jokes. I thought it
showed how immature Owen was."

"And now what
do you think?"

"Now, I think
your sister was an amazing person for recognizing you two needed to be
friends," my father said. "And, I think I need to make a few phone
calls."

"I'll check
in on Mom," I said.

He nodded grimly
and pulled out his phone. As I headed towards the stairs, I heard him asking to
speak with a lieutenant at the police precinct where Owen was most likely
taken. My father had a buddy there that shared my father's interest in tough
cases and golf.

"Dean, it’s
been too long. Yeah, I know you miss our late night chats. Well, I've got a
good list of questions if you've got the time," my father said.
"Seems like a friend of my daughters’ was brought in tonight. He doesn't
know it, yet but I'm on his case. Did they bring in the roommate too? No? You
boys are slipping, huh. Name's Jasper Collins. You're welcome. Sure. See you in
a few."

I could not help
but poke my head back around the corner. "You're taking Owen's case?"

"Yes. My
buddy was surprised to hear there was a roommate. Guess there's not much on
paper. So, your vagabond drug dealer theory is sounding a little more
plausible." My father heaved himself up from the couch.

"I guess
there is one more thing you should know." I squeezed my hands together.
"Owen thought maybe it was you that was harassing him. He thought you
might be getting your judge contacts to sign search warrants just to get in the
way."

"Why didn't I
think of that?" He chuckled. "Though from the looks of things, it
wouldn't have scared you off."

"He's not a
drug-dealer, I swear."

"Just let me
go and do my job," my father said. "And speaking of jobs, I expect to
hear all about your new plan and how you are going to finance it yourself.
Breakfast tomorrow. You make the pancakes and I'll listen."

"Really?
You're going to help Owen?" I ran over and hugged my father tight around
the neck.

I felt his tired
smile against my cheek. "Like you said, I could use a win tonight. Please
keep an eye on your mother. She should sleep all night, but if… I mean, it
would just be nice to know that she's alright."

I held my hands up
to my mouth. "No, this is wrong, isn't it? You want to stay here with Mom.
You can take care of all of this in the morning. I shouldn't have pushed this
on you tonight."

He patted my
cheek. "I would not have slept, anyway. You know me. I would be in my
office until the crack of dawn. I got used to this schedule a long time ago.
It’s just part of the job."

"Thank
you," I said.

My father nodded
and left to join Owen at the jail.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE

Owen

I
parked at the end of the driveway and turned the car off. Just in case anyone
was looking from the house, I checked my phone. Not that I was nervous. Mr.
Thomas had come to the jail the same night I was arrested. That had to mean he
did not hate me as much as I always suspected.

He had reason to,
though. I had done awful things. I dated Sienna for much longer than I should
have. We knew it was not working, but I was too lazy to change anything. And
the whole time, I was really in love with Quinn. That was a fact that was
apparent to everyone else but us.

So after I got
drunk, said horrible things I did not mean, and was caught kissing another
woman, it was a shock that Quinn's father had come to my defense. He never said
a single thing about his daughter the whole night. When he finally did mention
her, there was a smile on his face I had never seen before. We looked at each
other like two men waking up from a bad dream.

"Quinn's
really something. I hope you know that," Mr. Thomas had said.

With that thought
in mind, I grabbed the cellophane-wrapped flowers and got out of the car. My
stride hitched once on the front walk, but I forced myself to the door. Mr.
Thomas opened it only seconds after I knocked. He must have been watching from
one of the bay windows.

"Glad to see
you decided to finally join us," he said.

I winced, despite
the neutral smile on his face. I was just used to having him dislike every
single thing I did. "I heard that Mrs. Thomas is feeling better, but I
wanted to give her these anyway," I said.

"How
thoughtful."

I took a deep
breath and handed Mr. Thomas a long, heavy bag. "And here's a bottle of
aged whiskey for you. I was not sure what kind you drank, so I can return it if
it’s not right. I want you to have something that you actually like, so please
tell me."

"Owen, I'm
sure it’s fine. Whiskey is great, thanks," he said.

"I want to
thank you for everything you did for me. Helping me out with the arrest,
clearing my record, and for giving me a second chance," I said.

"Well, don't
screw it up this time." He opened the door wider and led the way into the
house.

I looked around
and expected Quinn to bound down the staircase or come jogging around the hall
corner from the basement. "Quinn is home, right?" I asked.

"Yes, she'll
be down when she's done. Some practice test. She's been studying very hard and
her scores are excellent, but she insists on taking every practice test
anyway," Mr. Thomas said.

"Studying?"
I rubbed my chin. I had been so wrapped up in my own situation that I had
completely missed a big change in Quinn's life. Here I was already screwing up
the second chance I had been given.

Mr. Thomas saw the
look on my face and laughed. "Don't worry. It’s a big secret. I mean, I
got it out of her, but then again I am the king of cross-examinations."

"So whatever
it is, Quinn is doing well?" I wanted to look around for a hidden camera.
This was not the Mr. Thomas I was used to encountering.

"Yes, she's
really found her way. It’s the perfect blend of her skills and her desire to
make her own schedule and have some freedom. Plus, I think she likes the idea
of all the excitement," he said.

"Excitement.
Freedom?" I asked. It sounded as if Quinn was going to take off for some
fantastic career and leave us all behind.
Was
that why Mr. Thomas was so happy? Did he know she would soon be breaking my
heart?

"Exactly how
I feel about it. I'm more like you. I like work I can do in my home office. I
mean, sure, I have to go and visit clients in jail now and then, but mostly, I
can work from here," Mr. Thomas said. He clapped me on the shoulder.
"That's at least something we have in common. I even suppose your
tournaments are a lot like when I go trial. All those people watching you,
waiting to hear what you say."

I realized my
mouth was hanging open. "Yes, except you are actually helping
people."

"No need for
flattery, Owen. I finally managed to read that magazine article on you. Sounds
like you inspire a lot of people. Real leadership skills and all that."

It was a relief
when Quinn came down the stairs. She was stunning in tight dark jeans and a
black buttoned shirt. The shirt was tucked in around her tight waist and the
buttons undone just enough to make my pulse jump. She had finally given up the
pastels that her sister insisted were best for her complexion. Quinn looked
confident, sexy, and completely aware of her effect on me.

"Oh, speaking
of the home office, I hear my phone," Mr. Thomas said.

I belatedly
realized I had not heard a ringer, but by then Quinn was already in my arms.
Her chestnut hair fell over my arms as she tilted back and smiled up at me.

"You look so
shocked. I know my father did not say anything mean, so what on earth were you
two talking about?" she asked.

"I don't
know, but whatever it was, we agreed on it," I said.

Quinn laughed and
the sound broke my reverie. I kissed her sweet strawberry lips and the world
felt right again.

"Turns out
getting arrested was the best thing that ever happened to you, huh?" she
asked.

"If you are
not angry with me for the way I freaked out, then, yes. Your father saved my
ass and now we're getting along. That is the best possible outcome. Maybe I
should have gotten arrested months ago."

"Back when I
was still a good little nursing student? I probably would have written you off
for good."

"Yeah, speaking
of that. I love all these changes in you I'm seeing. Want to clue me in on
what's happening?" I asked. "Your father says you are studying for
something. He seems really proud of you."

Her cheeks took on
the strawberry hue of her lips. "He is proud of me. He actually told me
that the other day. I think my heart stopped for a full thirty seconds."

Before I could ask
her more, Mr. Thomas rejoined us in the foyer. "That was my lieutenant
buddy down at the precinct. He says that Jasper Collins is now officially in
custody and has been charged. Your friend Trent did a great job meeting other
people at that party. Through his information, we tracked down half a dozen
witnesses that said Jasper offered to sell them marijuana."

"Good old
Trent," I said.

Quinn smacked me
on the arm. "He's turning out to be a real friend."

Mr. Thomas smiled
again. "So, it looks like you are free and clear and just in time for your
big tournament."

"Oh, I'm glad
I caught you before you left!" Mrs. Thomas called from the top of the stairs.
"I want to wish you luck and all of that."

Normally, I
cringed at the sound of Mrs. Thomas' voice. It was hard to tell what edge her
mood would give her words, but more often than not, they were harsh. That day,
though, she seemed more at ease and when her smiling eyes met mine, I saw they
were not clouded. Her normal fog of worry, anger, or depression had lifted.

"I'm glad to
hear you are feeling better, Mrs. Thomas," I said. I handed her the
flowers and fully expected her to throw them back in my face.

"These are
delightful. Not quite my taste, but delightful. Thank you, Owen," she
said.

Quinn smiled at
me. Her mother was definitely feeling more like herself. "Are you heading
out now?" she asked her mother.

"Yes, sorry.
Can't break my appointment. Making progress and all that. Your father is going
to drive me like he always does and then we'll meet you in Vegas. Good luck,
you two!"

"It’s mostly
him," Quinn said. "I'm just playing for fun."

"What?"
I asked. The way her father had talked about freedom and excitement I had
started to think she was taking up a career in the professional gaming world.
"I thought you were in the competitor bracket."

"I
switched," Quinn said. "Call me crazy, but I decided maybe I could
just have a little fun for once."

"As long as
that is all you do in Vegas," Mr. Thomas warned. "No crazy dancing or
big bets or little white chapels. You hear me?"

"What?"
Quinn asked. "You don't trust me not to do anything you wouldn't do?"

I felt a knot in
my chest come undone when they all laughed. My parents were rarely home and had
not been since high school. I realized that was one of the reasons I had not
broken up with Sienna when things got bad. No matter how they felt about me,
the Thomas family had been the only family I had for a long time. To see them
happy and together unlocked a deep longing.

Quinn and I waited
until her parents had left then gathered up her overnight bag for Vegas.
"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No. I mean,
yes. It's just weird to, I don't know, not be hated by your parents," I
said.

"I know what
you mean. I feel like they are finally seeing me, instead of just this
knock-off version of Sienna. It feels strange, but good."

I opened Quinn’s
car door for her. By the time I got into the driver's seat, my tongue felt heavy.
The words I wanted to say were like lead. Quinn chatted about Caesar's Palace,
where we would be staying, and the tournament. She did not notice my struggle
to speak.

"Funny what
your father said about the little white chapel, isn't it?" I finally managed
to say.

"Yes.
Especially since it is where he and my mother got married," Quinn said.

I swerved the car
just a little. "What?"

"Oh, they had
a big, white wedding where everything was perfect, but two nights before, they
drove to Vegas and got married. I always thought it was so romantic," she
said.

We pulled onto The
Strip, but I started to recalculate my route so we could drive past the iconic
wedding chapel. My heart was hammering because I knew that was the final piece
that would make me feel whole.

"Quinn, I
know this is out of the blue, but-"

"Owen, pull
over! I think that man is having a heart attack!" Quinn said. She grabbed
the wheel and forced me to pull over.

Tourist drivers
went crazy with their horns, but Quinn jumped out of the car and ran to the
side of the fallen man. Within seconds, there were sirens coming from two
directions. The ambulances moved slowly through the awestruck tourists.

Quinn ignored all
the chaos. She was bent over the man doing chest compressions. After a short
eternity, she checked his pulse and leaned back on her heels. By the time the
EMTs pulled their equipment out of the ambulance, the man had lifted his hand.
He reached for his tearful wife's fingers and she thanked Quinn over and over
again.

Two EMTs loaded
the man into the ambulance, while a third stopped to talk to Quinn. Her face
lit up in recognition and I felt a sharp stab of jealousy. I walked over just
as he handed her a card.

"Feel free to
call me anytime," the EMT said.

"Thanks, I
will," Quinn said.

#

I
never knew what people meant when they said someone "glowed" – not
until I got back into the car with Quinn. It was hard to concentrate on the
cluster of bad Vegas traffic. A bright smile played around her lips and her
eyes sparkled at everything without actually seeing it. I worried that was what
love looked like. I felt that way when I looked at her sometimes.

"You're
pretty happy for a woman who just saw a serious heart attack," I
commented.

Quinn blinked at
my terse tone. "He survived. That is seriously good news. That makes me
happy."

"Okay, but
this seems like a different kind of happy," I said. "Does it have
anything to do with that cute EMT giving you his card? What did he say? You can
call him anytime?"

"Owen Redd,
you realize you sound jealous, right?"

"You look
like if I opened the window you would float right out. So, if you're not happy
about the EMT hitting on you, then what is it?"

"For the
record, he did not hit on me," Quinn said. "Well, maybe he flirted,
but he was giving me his business card."

My heart thumped
and I realized Quinn had just saved a man's life. She had jumped out of the car
before I pulled to a complete stop and ran over to help. Not only that, but she
had revived him and kept him alive until help arrived. It was amazing.

"You know,
that's not such a bad idea," I said.

"What's not a
bad idea? Helping a man having a heart attack?"

"Yes, but I
mean working as an EMT. You have some background with the nursing classes you
already took and you clearly have a talent for it. It’s something you really
should consider, Quinn," I said.