Page 7

7

THE GRAND TOUR

QUINN

The following week and a half passes in a blur. Each day bleeds into the next, filled with stuffing my mind full of information on psychological profiles that feel hauntingly dissonant against the weight of my father’s murder.

I grip the steering wheel as I drive toward the Hollis home, the engine’s hum a dull backdrop to my racing thoughts.

Committing to Jack and Sienna is a welcome distraction from the turmoil churning my insides.

As I approach the driveway, I wonder if caring for a new baby—spending my time outside of school work focusing on learning her specific needs—will help me reconcile my own fractured emotions or if it will only deepen the chasm of loss and regret.

My father’s yet-to-be-solved murder clings to me, a constant reminder that understanding this kind of darkness on paper is one thing, but facing it in my own life is an entirely different challenge, no matter how much I loathed him.

Jack’s house stands tall, dark, and imposing, its wrought-iron gates creaking open to reveal a sprawling yard. There is a long fence that lines the perimeter of the property. It’s similar to what he described, but it’s not the yard that has my attention—it’s the stunning architecture; ornate details, and pointed spires. It fits perfectly with the vibes of the rest of Hollow, but I never would have expected such beauty after Jack’s sole mention of having a large fenced yard. I don’t know what I expected… maybe a white picket fence? Not this.

Although, maybe I should’ve thought to adjust my expectations after I learned he is a professor and not a student.

I am a moron.

Drool drips from the tip of Kronk’s tongue, adding to the mess of dog hair already covering the front seat of my car. I pull up the driveway and he becomes fidgety and restless, like he knows this is his new digs.

“Fancier than the last place, huh?” I scratch behind his ear as I put the car into park. “So much room for activities.”

The front door swings open and Jack steps onto the covered porch, Sienna bouncing in his arms.

I give Kronk a stern look. “Stay put. Zustan .”

I crack his window a few inches. He whines as I open my door and step out of the vehicle, but does as he’s told.

I thank all the gods that he is showing he does actually listen most of the time. I don’t think most people realize how wild as fuck a young German Shepherd can be, regardless of their training. He wasn’t exactly impressive during our first meeting with Jack, and I am shocked he even considered offering to let him stay here as an option.

Introducing Kronk to Sienna will be a necessity at some point, but the last thing I need is for him to make a fool of us again today.

“You can let him out,” Jack says as I approach the porch.

Sienna spots me and immediately goes nuts trying to wiggle her way free of his hold. I scoop her into my arms, and she giggles with delight. “Daddy is trying to subject you to the big silly dog.”

“Da da da da da,” she babbles, and I could squeeze her because she’s so freaking cute.

“Sienna loves big silly dogs. Don’t you, little bear?” He takes her hand between his fingers and gives it a playful shake.

“And I am sure he will love her, but you should know that there is a nonzero chance that he will lovingly freak the eff out. This will all be very new and exciting to him.”

“You can say fuck. She doesn’t understand what you’re saying yet.”

“She’s what? Nearly eight months old? Nine? She understands a lot more than you th?—”

“Fuh fuh fuh fuh fuh.” She smacks my cheek and cackles.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing, but a small snort breaks free despite my best efforts.

Jack looks devastated. “It’s fine. This is fine. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s not even really saying it. She’s too small for words. Oh my god did I just make her second word ‘fuck’?”

“Fuh fuh fuh fuh.”

I dissolve into quiet laughter.

“This is not funny.”

I rein myself in but struggle to keep it at bay. “You’re right. It’s not.”

He glares at me as he opens the door and gestures for me to enter. “It’s almost Sienna’s nap time. Her nursery is upstairs, the first door on the right. Take her up and I’ll release the Kraken.”

Release the Kronken. Heh.

I take this as a challenge, fully prepared to show off my super nanny skills. “Good luck, bestie. I hope you’re fluent in Czech.”

I salute him and head for the stairs, ignoring when he questions what I mean by that. I am most assuredly not fluent in Czech; I only know a few commands… and swear words, which we should both probably take up using in front of Sienna now. If she repeats them, at least no one will know what the kurva she’s saying.

As soon as I step into Sienna's nursery, the dark, moody atmosphere of the rest of the house melts away. The walls are a buttery yellow, cozy and inviting. The wooden crib is painted a creamy white and has intricate carvings of flowers and vines. In the corner, there is an old rocking chair with faded floral cushions that look like they've been loved for years. Everything in the room exudes warmth and comfort.

I don’t know if it’s part of Sienna’s naptime routine, but when I sit and begin to rock, her tiny body wilts against mine and her eyelids droop with the swaying movement.

I brush my index finger between her eyebrows and down the bridge of her nose. I miss Maggie, but snuggling this sweet girl is a balm to the hurt. “You are the sweetest baby.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth at the sound of my voice even though she’s almost out. “I think we are going to get along just fine.”

We sit like that for a few more minutes, then I stand and place her in her crib. She doesn’t stir, just snoozes away.

I turn to find Jack standing in the doorway. It startles me but I suppress the scream lodged in my throat to keep from waking her.

He smirks at the way I spook. “Get used to being jump scared. I forgot to mention the house is haunted.”

I snort as we quietly close her bedroom door behind us. “Yeah, this house and every other part of this town.”

“What, you don’t believe the stories?” He stops at the top of the staircase and turns to look at me.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious.” I cross my arms over my chest and his eyes dart to the movement, snagging on my cleavage. I like that my body causes him to falter.

“So serious.” It seems as if he has to force himself to turn away.

The stairs creak as we make our way to the bottom floor again. “In that case, I need a raise.”

I follow him through the kitchen, the sticky scent of smashed fruit lingering as we pass the table and Sienna’s highchair. I am sure I interrupted lunch, and I quietly appreciate that he seems to be more attentive to Sienna’s needs than he is worried about immediately cleaning everything up for my sake. Just parent life things, and I am more than understanding.

I’m sure I’ll see bigger messes than this one if I stick around for any length of time, so there’s no use in him cleaning up for my sake now.

“We haven’t even discussed your pay.”

I try not to gape too obviously at stunning wooden cabinets and dark granite countertops, but I’m practically panting at the thought of cooking here. “You’re right. This kitchen is payment enough.”

“You like to cook?” He opens the door and Kronk gallops toward us from across the massive yard. His feet pounding against the stone back patio sound like a herd of bison.

As a kid, cooking gave me a sense of self-sufficiency I was hard-pressed to find anywhere else. In a household where my parents were accustomed to being waited on hand and foot by hired help, it felt like an act of rebellion to take matters into my own hands and prepare my own meals, as simple as they had to be given my age and the limitations that came with that.

Not to mention that I all but got off on their disapproval of it.

Cooking was not just food to me, it was a means of keeping my body and soul together—the one way I could achieve both independence and defiance for a long time.

“I do. And I’m afraid to say that the miniature microwave I use to make ramen in my dorm is just not the same as having an actual kitchen.”

“Ah.” I can see the wheels turning in his mind, about what I am unsure of.

Kronk almost bowls me over once he reaches us.

“You like this big fancy yard?” I crouch down and aggressively scratch on either side of his head prompting him to lick the side of my neck. “Gross, you furry beast.”

He doubles down on the gross factor and licks my face, placing a paw on my shoulder. The unexpected force of it causes me to lose my balance.

I tip backwards onto my ass and Jack lets out a throaty chuckle. “He’s always making you fall, huh?”

He extends his hand, and I gratefully accept it. “Yeah, pretty much. He just wants some kisses.”

With his strong grip, he pulls me to my feet, steadying me as I regain my bearings. “Does he typically stay inside or outside?”

I dust off the butt of my jeans. “He’s totally fine being outside during the day. He prefers that, actually. His energy is endless and it’s good for him to be able to run around all day so that when I bring him inside in the evening he’s less apt to destroy everything you know and love inside your home. At night he sleeps in a crate, so you won’t have to worry about him roaming through the house getting into things or anything like that.”

“How is he with other animals?”

We naturally gravitate to walking the inside perimeter of the fence. “Indifferent, which is surprising, I know. Your cat is inside, I assume?”

He rubs his hand along the scruff on his face. “Yeah. Milo isn’t a fan of dogs, or anyone , just so you know. Maybe we should avoid having them run into one another. It shouldn’t be an issue, though. He tends to stay hidden in the cat acombs.”

“ Cat acombs?” I eye him.

“Yeah. Lined with human skulls and everything.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Cat acombs would more likely be lined with the skulls of mice.”

“Nope. Milo is savage. Definitely all human. I’ll give you a tour sometime.”

I stuff my hands into my back pockets. “Pass, but you should probably give me a tour of the rest of the place.”

“I can do that.”

We slowly make our way back inside, and my anxiety suddenly and unexpectedly wraps me up in a fucking bear hug. Great .

It’s not because of the situation or anything specific that triggered this feeling, it just comes out of absolute nowhere sometimes. In my mind I can be fine, but my body’s reaction to whatever chemicals are fucked up in my brain tells a completely different story.

I focus on taking deep breaths, trying not to make it obvious as he leads me through the halls pointing out each room as we go, and shows me how to arm and disarm the security system. He shares with me all the details of Sienna’s day and night routine, his voice filled with love and adoration for her. My heart pinches and I’m so glad this sweet baby found her way to him in such a sad situation. I hope her mom chokes, wherever she is.

“My schedule is pretty flexible because almost all my classes are online. Which I am sure you already know because as my professor it’s likely you have access to my schedule, no?” I give him a flat look, half teasing him about the fact that he failed to divulge that bit of information. He doesn’t even look guilty about it, so I continue. “I go in person once a week, but that class doesn’t interfere with the schedule you sent me. I’m fine doing school while I’m here, and I promise it won’t hinder my ability to care for Sienna and give her all the attention she needs. I’m a great multi-tasker.”

He pulls out a seat from the island now that we’re back in the kitchen. “I trust you.” There is a stretch of silence. “And it’s definitely not because I had a friend run a thorough background check, asked all of your former employers how you were with their kids, and have cameras in every room of the house.”

I laugh incredulously. I guess the fact that he’s taken these steps also saves us an awkward conversation about the skeletons I haven’t exactly chosen to keep in my closet. “I would expect no less.” I take a seat, leaving an empty one between us. “You’re sure you’re fine with me just coming and going even while I’m not working? I don’t want Kronk to be a burden to you, but I also don’t want to be a bother being here to take care of him day and night.”

He pulls a key from his shirt pocket and slides it across the granite countertop. “It’s a non-issue.”

Something in his tone catches me off guard. I need to get it together, because there’s no way he wants me here, wants me here. I take the key and close my fingers around it. The jagged edge bites into my palm. “Anything else I should know?”

“I think that covers it,” he seems thoughtful like he’s searching the files in his mind for anything he may have forgotten to share with me. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

The sentiment comes out of nowhere, but I appreciate it nonetheless. It’s not something we can or should continue to tiptoe around. I give him a tight smile. “Thanks.”

“You have my number. If anything comes up, I’ll do my best to answer right away.” I’m glad he doesn’t press the subject any further. I don’t want to have to pretend to be sad.

I press my lips together and nod my understanding, curious if he only means while I’m with Sienna or if he’s insinuating that he’s happy to be a shoulder for me to cry on as well. I’m not about to tell him I don’t have any tears left to shed, but I am considering what other excuses I could come up with to talk to him outside my allotted time with her.

I’m also curious how much we’d have to talk about. He has to be at least a decade older than I am even though he doesn’t look like it. I briefly question if my attraction to him has anything to do with my daddy issues . That very well could be the case, but recognizing it doesn’t change the fact that he is super fucking attractive.

He stands, exuding a quiet confidence that holds my attention without any effort on his part. And it’s not just his looks; it’s the way he listens, the way he seems to value our conversations, and how he appears genuinely interested in what I have to say.

He looks at me like he can see what I am thinking. His gaze carries a weight that is slightly unnerving. It makes my heart beat a little faster, which is annoying because I literally just breathing-exercised it into submission like five minutes ago.

I wonder if my eyes reflect the same interest I see in his.