At Your Most Beautiful, Harper Bliss [books to get back into reading .TXT] 📗

Maya went back to her chair and watched Quinn swim a few slow laps. The mere fact of having someone to share her pool with, even if it was only for a short time, offered a potent distraction from her loneliness. The promise of that ‘mean cocktail’ was helping as well.

Maya tried to remember the latest news Brooke had given her about Quinn. No Ivy League for the neighbors’ daughter, she knew that much. She’d also known Quinn was gay as she’d always been out. How old was Quinn now? Truth be told, Maya hadn’t given Quinn Hathaway much thought at all. The girl barely came home. Brooke complained about it often enough, while Bill said she was just finding her way because she was still so young and what were we like at that age?

Now Quinn was swimming in her pool. If Maya partly closed her eyes and squinted, she could pretend it was her son enjoying himself in the cool water.

“Aren’t you hot?” Quinn had swum to the side of the pool closest to Maya, and rested her elbows on the ledge. Drops of water pearled on the skin of her arms.

“I’m fine. I’ll go for a dip later.”

“How are you holding up now that Tommy’s gone?”

“Fine.” It was nice of her to ask.

“It must be hard, though.” Quinn tilted her head. “Tommy’s always been such a mommy’s boy.” She grinned broadly.

“I don’t think that’s correct.” If anything, Tommy was able to appreciate qualities in his father that Maya had never known the man possessed.

“That’s because you can’t see it. Because you’re his mom.” Still grinning, Quinn winked at Maya before her head disappeared under the water again.

Maya followed her with her gaze. She came up for air at the other side of the pool, where she leaned her head back and smoothed the water out of her hair with her hands. If Tommy was a mommy’s boy, Quinn Hathaway was definitely a daddy’s girl.

“Do you still have your dance school?” Quinn pushed herself out of the water effortlessly and sat on the edge, looking at Maya.

“I do.” Thank goodness for that, Maya thought.

“Pity you didn’t have it when I was younger. I regret not being able to dance properly.” Did she just give Maya a once-over with that piercing blue gaze of hers?

“It’s never too late to learn. I teach a seniors class, ages sixty-five and up.”

“It must work wonders for your figure. You look amazing for a woman your a—” Quinn paused, and briefly drew her lips into a half-smile. “You really look amazing, Mrs.—um, Maya.”

Heat rose to Maya’s cheeks, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t caused by the sun. “Thank you,” she mumbled. When was Quinn going to mix her that ‘mean cocktail’?

Quinn stood and walked to the sitting area, leaving a trail of water behind her.

“Here. Use this.” Maya tossed her the towel that was hanging off the chair next to her.

Quinn toweled off her hair, then wrapped the towel around her waist. For some reason, it drew Maya’s gaze to her chest—maybe by way of her naked belly. As soon as she realized what she was staring at, Maya averted her gaze.

“Are you sure I’m not interrupting anything?” Quinn sat next to Maya. “With Mom and Dad gone, I was getting bored at the house. It’s so quiet here. It’s uncanny.”

Maya didn’t think it was quiet at all. There were birds. There was the dog from two houses down that yapped at the smallest noise. There was the hum of cars in the distance. But she guessed that compared to New York City, Milbury was very quiet. “Truth be told, I’m happy with some company.”

Quinn nodded as though she fully understood what Maya was going through. She folded her hands behind her neck and let her head fall back, her chest jutting out so the sight of it captured Maya’s attention again. If Maya didn’t know any better, she’d think Quinn was doing it on purpose. On second thought, what did she know about Quinn? Not nearly enough to know if she was toying with her.

“When are you going back to the city?” Maya was suddenly very keen to know all about Quinn’s life.

“End of the month.” Quinn played with her wet hair. “I’m moving in with a friend.” She shook her head. “Rent in NYC is murder.”

“Where did you live before?”

Quinn expelled a deep breath of air. A shadow crossed her face. “With my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend now. She kicked me out.” She paused to paint on a wry smile. “Thank goodness for hotel Hathaway in good old Milbury.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Well, it was her place, so…” She ruffled her hair and a few drops of water fell onto her shoulders.

“Were you and…” For the life of her, Maya couldn’t remember Brooke mentioning Quinn’s girlfriend’s name—or that they had recently split up. “Were you together a long time?”

“Coming up to a year.”

Quinn had been with her girlfriend for almost a year and Brooke had never even brought it up in conversation with Maya, even though they had shared plenty of bottles of wine in that time.

“Did you ever bring her home?”

With her bottom lip jutted out, Quinn shook her head slowly. “Mom, um, didn’t really approve of the relationship. Rach was older than me. She was my photography teacher. Too many red flags for Brooke to deal with.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s over now, so Mom doesn’t have to worry about inviting her over for Thanksgiving.”

“How much older?” It made sense now that Brooke hadn’t mentioned Quinn’s girlfriend.

“Rach is in her fifties. Big deal.” Quinn pulled her feet up onto the chair. “She’s also the fucking hottest woman I’ve ever met.”

Maya bit her tongue to avoid telling Quinn off for swearing, and frantically tried to remember how old Quinn was. When had she graduated high school? She couldn’t pinpoint the year, but surely Quinn was no older than twenty-five. Maya fully sympathized with Brooke on this, although this was