Page 39 of Dad Next Door

Quinn: I’ve got us covered

Tristan: you do?

Quinn: I do. My friend Nick’s bf has a fleet of cars and he said Evan would be happy to lend us one of his limos so we can really stick it to your ex. The only catch is Nick will be in the car on the way there so he can get all the tea, his words

Tristan: really? That would be perfect.

Quinn: great. Can you send me the timings and address so Nick can pass the info on?

Tristan: I’ll send you a screenshot of the invitation. Do you need it now? I’m in bed but I can get up

Quinn: tomorrow is fine. I’m guessing you need to get to sleep?

Tristan: unfortunately

Quinn: have a good night doc

Tristan: goodnight

I waited to see if he’d write more but put my phone back on the bedside table when my screen stayed dark.

Quinn and I were okay, and I was now looking forward to Saturday when, before, it had been a giant stressful deadline looming over me.

Maybe things were finally looking up for me.

8

QUINN

“Jesus H Christ.”

I burst out laughing at Tristan’s gobsmacked expression.

“I take it I pass muster?” I asked teasingly.

He stepped onto the front porch and closed the door behind him. “I figured you’d look good in a tux, but how in the hell do you look like a cross between a secret agent and a supermodel?”

“Good genes and a talented tailor.” I took the lint roller he held out to me.

“I’m going to need the name of your tailor because my off-the-rack special is one step away from looking like I stole my big brother’s tux for prom.” He locked the door and stuck his keys in his pocket. “And of course, the pet fur just adds to the whimsy.”

“Arms out.” I wiggled the lint roller at him.

He stuck his arms out in a T-pose.

“You look amazing, Doc.” I ran the lint roller over the front of his jacket to collect the various pet hairs that stood out against the dark material. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I don’t look like a model.”

I made a turn around motion with the lint roller. He did, presenting me with his back.

“Probably because you’re not a model. Remember, Doc, my jobs depend on me looking a certain way. Do you know that saying, ‘Comparison is the thief of joy?’ You look amazing.”

He really did. Tristan was one of those men who was handsome but didn’t seem to know it or know how to accentuate his looks.

His hair was thick and glossy, and the dark strands contrasted nicely against his pale skin and bright eyes. Even the few streaks of gray near his temples looked good, adding an air of maturity and refinement to his overall demeanor. He normally wore the slightly wavy strands in a tangled mess, but tonight they were neatly styled and tamed with product.

With his bright eyes, strong jawline, and baby face, he could easily pass for someone in their early thirties.