All I See Is You

14. Coal

Chapter fourteen

Coal

Hux

I probably spoke too soon about things going bad, but I’d heard the panic and worry in Quinn’s voice and all that mattered right then and there was trying to ease her fears.

Which wasn’t at all like me. I didn’t really do that shit. Didn’t really take people's feelings into consideration. I told it like it was. I did what I wanted, consequences be damned. There was nothing tying me to her. No reason I needed to go to this dinner. But I’d do just about anything to be around her, I realized.

Fuck, I was in trouble. If I was this whipped now, I didn’t know what another night with her would do.

Her hand fit perfectly in mine as she took it and led me forward. Cool air blasted across my skin as we went into the house. She led me in a generally straight line, across what felt like tile first, before giving way to hardwood. A brief stop and then I heard the soft click of another door opening, followed by an accompanying wave of thick, hot, heavy air and the cloying scent of chlorinated water. Music played over the sound of the outdoors and the trickle of water from the pool. It was some obnoxious pop tune—probably the future missus’ Decker’s music. At least I hoped, this shit was god awful, and I couldn’t imagine Quinn’s dad—let alone any sane person—listening to this.

“Quinn! You decided to come after all!” Her dad’s voice came from ahead and to the right of me.

Quinn’s response was light and breathy, but I didn’t miss the layer of nervousness mingled in with her soft laughter. “Yep. Here we are.”

“Well, come on over. Sit, sit.”

And so we did.

Everything started out fine enough. Quinn managed to keep the general direction of the conversation light and seemed to turn any question aimed at me back Carl and Georgette’s way, so that all they could talk about was the upcoming wedding and themselves. I don’t know if Quinn did it because she knew I didn’t like sharing about myself or if it was just a happy coincidence, but I appreciated her attempts nonetheless.

“Huxson, you hunt?” her dad asked.

Only my mom called me Huxson anymore really, but I didn’t feel like correcting him. I shrugged. “Used to, sir.” I couldn’t even count all the dove and deer hunts I’d gone on with my dad and uncle while I was growing up.

“You and I should go sometime. I got a buddy who owns a helicopter and can take us boar hunting.”

“Oh my God, Dad. Really?” Quinn all but gasped at my side.

I squeezed her hand gently in reassurance even as a huff of laughter escaped me. I didn’t think her dad was trying to make a jab, most people honestly just forgot I couldn’t see. I wouldn’t expect him to remember something like that.

“What? I’m just trying to be friendly, Queenie.”

“That sounds like a good time, Mr. Decker,” I replied. “Afraid to tell you though, I ain’t that great of a shot.”

“Well, at least you have an excuse. I’m shit and I can see.” He burst out laughing, even as Quinn leaned into me and pressed her head to my chest, a groan escaping her.

Fuck, she smelled good. Sometimes, people’s perfumes or shampoos and sprays could be so overpowering. But not hers. Everything was soft, subtle, but somehow strong in a pleasing way. Kissing the top of her head, I murmured, “It’s okay, darlin’.” It really was, though I appreciated her concern. I aimed my attention toward her dad’s laughter. “Well, good thing is, sir, you could be a shit shot, and I’ll never know the difference.”

More raucous laughter from her dad, growing louder and louder. He was moving, the sound coming closer to me. I startled as something hard made contact with my right shoulder. “I like you, Hux.” Nope, not just something hard. Carl’s hand. What the hell was it with people clapping me on the damn shoulder? “How about you and I grab another round of drinks? You like whiskey?”

I forced my nerves to calm with a slow inhale and exhale before nodding. “I do, sir.”

“Come on, then,” he replied. “My friend just came out with a double barrel whiskey that’s real smooth. I bought a few shares in the company. I think it’s gonna be big. How about you and I have some so the girls can discuss wedding things?”

I’d dated enough to know this was the inconspicuous not so inconspicuous way of getting me alone to give me the talk. The one all dads gave to the guys dating their daughters. I shrugged. Might as well get it over with. Besides, I wasn’t about to turn down a glass of whiskey.

“Sounds good, Mr. Decker.”

Quinn’s grip on my hand tightened for the briefest moment, but I offered a soft smile in her direction before feeling a light path from her hand up to her chin, gripping it between my thumb and forefinger. “Have fun,” I whispered, brushing my lips briefly against hers.

I couldn’t help it. It was probably indecent—no, I know it was indecent kissing her in front of her father like that, but trying not to touch Quinn was like trying not to breathe.

I just couldn’t do it.

She mumbled something incoherent, the faint taste of alcohol on her lips from the mojito Georgette had demanded she have. Standing up, I turned toward her dad. “Ready when you are, sir.”

Another smack to the shoulder. Another silent shudder through me. Fuck, I needed that whiskey at this point. The mojito I’d guzzled down hadn’t done a damn thing.

I hated following people almost as much as I hated being in new places. Thankfully, Quinn’s dad never stopped talking, so it was easy enough to follow his voice. Only problem was he walked fast, which led to me bumping into shit. Another thing I hated.

There was a lot of shit I couldn’t stand about being blind, but at the end of the day there wasn’t anything I could do about it. So, silently seething, I made my way behind him down what I think was a hallway leading to an open room. Our footfalls echoed louder here, and the sound of his voice traveled further. Yep, a room then. The darkness in the left side of my vision was just a tad bit…warmer. if I had to guess, there was a wall of windows somewhere over there.

“It’s a nice view, isn’t it?” Carl Decker’s voice drifted off to my right, like he was walking away from me. I took a couple slow steps towards him.

“I’m sure it is,” I replied, clenching my jaw. I wasn’t sure if he was just oblivious or being a dick? Maybe a bit of both. He seemed aloof, reminding me of a cat kind of. Off in his own world and thoughts, but briefly coming around to interact when he wanted. He had just enough charm to not be obnoxious, but there was a steely edge to him beneath it all. He was probably a damn good businessman.

“Ah, damn, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting.” At least that sounded genuine.

I waved him off. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“You get around really well, though, you know. How come you don’t have a dog or one of those canes?” he asked over the clink of glasses.

I shrugged, hating how vulnerable I felt. Anxiety rippled and swelled in my chest like a rising tide. “I got a dog back at the bunkhouse, but he ain’t certified or anythin’. I only take him places I know they ain’t gonna give me shit for it. I tried a cane before, but the urge to hit somethin’ or someone with it was too strong, so I figured out how to deal without it.”

“I can imagine how tough it must be.”

I just nodded, a muscle feathering in my jaw. There was no way he could possibly understand what I was going through, and there was no point bothering trying to explain the depth of it. Better to just let it go.

Silence descended for a moment, before the sound of footfalls headed my way. “Here, try this.”

I reached out hesitantly, my hand bumping into his for a moment before settling on the glass of whiskey. “Thank you, sir,” I replied, taking it from him.

He clinked his glass against mine. “To Quinn.”

I nodded, wondering how she was doing out there all alone with Georgette. She hadn’t mentioned it, but I got the distinct feeling she didn’t like her. Hell, I didn’t like her, so I wasn’t about to judge.

“To Quinn.” I tilted the glass to my lips, enjoying the burn all the way down. Well, damn. Shit was good.

Carl’s chuckle was low, full of disbelief. “You’re supposed to sip it.”

“I’ve never been one for goin’ slow.” All my life I’d been like a bullet out of a gun, a home-run hit—going, going, gone. Since the accident, I had to take almost everything slow. Something that killed me a bit more inside every day. But some habits just died hard.

“Well, I hope you slow down with Quinn.”

I stilled, immediately regretting my choice of words. Well that was stupid, Hux. I opened my mouth to respond, with what I had no idea, but it didn’t matter. Her dad cut me off before I could get a word out. Probably for the best.

“What are your intentions with her?”

I blew out a breath, nodding for a moment as I tried to gather my thoughts. “Look, sir, I honestly don’t know. I haven’t known her long, but I like how I feel when I’m around her. I like her company. I don’t really plan my life out the way I should and think about the long run. It ain’t me, and with my current condition, it’s just best to take it one day at a time. I know she’s heading back to California at the end of all of this, and I have no intentions of leavin’ Texas.” I shrugged. “But as long as she'll have me, I’m at her mercy.”

A huff, and then, “I think that’s one of the most honest answers I’ve ever gotten in my life. Most would have just blown smoke up my ass and told me what they thought I wanted to hear.”

“I ain’t one for doin’ that, sir.”

“Well, I appreciate the honesty.” The air shifted and the ice clinked in his glass. “Well, damn,” he hissed out a moment later. “That does have a nice bite to it when you drink it like that.”

My brow quirked up, my lips curling at the corners.

“Look, I can’t say I’m particularly happy about the situation, but in the end, it isn’t about me, it’s about her.” He exhaled loudly, his cologne mixing with the scent of alcohol on his breath. “Please don’t hurt her.”

I nodded. “I won’t, sir.” Because in the end, Quinn was the one who had the power. The power to bring me back to life, or snuff out whatever light was left in me. He didn’t need to know that, though.