Chapter Twenty-five: Quinn

Chapter Twenty-Five

Quinn

“Today is our last day to stake a claim on the beach and never leave,” I say, running a comb through my wet hair. “I’m not ready to leave in the morning.”

“Me neither. I know my surgery schedule and it’s back-to-back operations.”

“I feel bad for you,” I tell Archer, turning away from the mirror to look at him. “I have Sunday off before going back into work.” I comb out a tangle, regretting keeping my hair down while we were at the beach today. “Will you work as much in the fellowship?”

“The workload will be more intense, and the hours will probably be similar.”

His words make me cringe, but only on the inside. Archer needs a break. He deserves one more than anyone I know. “It’s just two years,” I say, trying to be optimistic. But two more years of working eighty hours a week sounds awful. Archer closes the balcony doors and lays down on the bed, turning on the TV. We spent the day on the shore, had an early dinner, and are going whale watching. Archer doesn’t seem as excited as I am about it.

I get the tangle out and towel dry my hair the best I can before putting it in a French braid.

“Do you think it’ll get chilly on the boat?” I ask.

“It might be windier than on shore. Bring the sweater,” he answers, knowing what I’m thinking. He gets me, and I’m sad our vacation is coming to an end. Being with him this week has been so nice.

“I’ll grab your jacket then too. Ready?”

“Yeah.” He turns off the TV and looks me over. “I don’t know how you look so good in everything you wear.”

“You must have gotten too much sun or something. I’m in leggings and a tank top.”

“If you haven’t picked up on it yet, I think you look hot in anything.”

I smile and go over to him. “I hope you always think so.”

“I don’t see why I won’t.”

“What if I get really bad stretch marks?”

“Then you get really bad stretch marks.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You’ll still find me attractive?”

Archer plants his hands on either side of my waist. “I know there’s a stigma against gaining weight and not having perfect skin, but I love you, Quinn. And if you get stretch marks from carrying our daughter, I’ll look at them and remember everything you went through in order to bring me Emma.”

My eyes well with tears and I can’t find any words to say. Besides, if I opened my mouth, sobs would probably come out instead.

“Any man who finds his girlfriend or wife or whatever less attractive because she bears the marks of pregnancy and birth is a fucking asshole.” He slides his hands to my ass. “Yes, I very much enjoy how you look right now, but I know what your body goes through during pregnancy. Your organs shift around. Getting stretch marks is the least of it.”

I blink back tears and straddle Archer’s lap, hoping he doesn’t make a move. I want to be close to him, but I’m not in the mood for sex. Which is nothing against him, but we’ve made love a lot on this vacation. My lady bits need a break. “You do have an appreciation for the arrangement of organs.”

“I do. Probably more than the average person.” He looks up at me, eyes a little glossy. “I’ve cut open a lot of people and have seen their insides. And it still blows my mind that something so incredible can grow inside of you.”

I smile. “Out of context, that would be a very strange sentence.”

He laughs. “A lot of what is said among surgeons sounds very bad out of context. Also, if you knew how small your uterus was before you got pregnant, you’d be amazed at what it holds at the end. It fits in your hand when there’s no baby inside.”

I make a face. “I never thought I’d date someone weirder than me, but I think you fit the bill.”

Archer laughs. “But I’m weird in a sexy way, right?”

“Oh, for sure.” I run my hands through his hair. As much as I want to go whale watching, snuggling in bed while he rubs my back is tempting too. “And you can lie and tell me I am.”

“I always knew I’d end up with someone who loved robot fights, computer codes, and cats.”

“Damn. You set the bar high.”

Archer laughs and nuzzles his head in between my breasts. Shit. I think he’s going to want to have sex. I don’t understand how he has the stamina for it all the time. I love him with all my heart, but I’m tired, dammit.

“Would you think it was lame if we ordered room service and crashed after whale watching?” Archer asks.

“Hell no. That’s my kind of night.”

He tightens his grip on me. “I knew there was a reason I fell for you.”

*

“Do you want to go for one last walk on the beach?”

I just sat down in bed and don’t feel like getting up, but the look in Archer’s eye can’t be described as anything else but romantic.

“Yeah,” I tell him and get up. “Should I change?” I’m still in the dress I wore earlier, and my hair is in a messy bun on the top of my head.

“No, that’s perfect. You might want to bring a sweater.” He smiles and rolls his eyes. “Only you would be cold on a tropical island.”

“The night air has a bit of a chill to it. I was expecting it to be super humid all the time here.”

Archer looks at me as if I’m crazy. “It is humid here.”

“Not really.”

“Have we been on the same vacation?”

I laugh. “I guess I’m comparing it to Disney World in the summer. That’s brutal.”

“I was thinking about that the other day, actually.”

“About Disney?”

“Yeah. You said you wanted to take Emma for her first vacation. Maybe can go for her birthday.”

I smile so big my face hurts. “That would be so fun!” I go into the bathroom to pee and brush my hair. I grab my sweater on the way out and walk close to Archer as we go down to the main lobby.

“Looks like someone is having fun,” I say, looking at a group of girls stumbling about.

“A little too much,” Archer notes, frowning when he sees them.

“Is Dr. Fuddy-Duddy coming back out?”

“He never went away.” Archer takes my hand again and pulls me close. “You like him, don’t lie.”

“The responsible side of you is attractive, I’ll readily admit it.”

He goes in to kiss me and someone screams. I jerk up, looking at the source of the scream. One of the drunk girls has collapsed and is convulsing on the floor. Archer lets go of me and rushes over. I stand there in shock for a few seconds and then notice the bleeding. The girl hit her head on the way down.

Things happen in a blur after that: someone from the hotel says they’re calling an ambulance, and Archer works on stopping the bleeding and attending to the seizing. He’s focused, fully aware how dire the situation is, but isn’t scared.

He’s in the zone, and this is his element.

I force myself over, asking what I can do to help. Archer says there’s not much we can do other than keep her stable until the EMT’s arrive to take her to the hospital. And he does just that, and as I stand there watching him take care of a perfect stranger, I know without a doubt he has to take that fellowship.