Indefinite (Salvation #6)(61)

“I’m not a North Jersey girl, babe.”

“No, but you’re having a baby with one.”

“So, we drove over two hours for a sandwich?”

I groan and tug harder. “Just go in with an open mind.”

We walk up the steps, and the sea air hits me. It’s home. There hasn’t been a single summer since I turned sixteen where I didn’t come here. When Gretchen got her license, we would drive here each weekend. Our parents hated it, but it was freedom for us.

There was nothing like a Friday night, windows down, blaring some Nelly, and sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the parkway.

Every car was filled to the brim with teenagers, trying to escape to the shore.

And that’s not even mentioning prom weekend. I look over to the right, knowing the hotel that’s one block off the beach is where I lost my virginity. I should probably leave that part out when selling my love for the shore.

“I’m still not understanding why going to the beach was necessary for you. New York City is on an island.”

“It’s down the shore. Down the shore, not the beach, not the ocean, not going to catch waves . . . learn the lingo,” I chide as we move forward. “Sheesh, people will think we’re tourists.”

Quinn’s gaze sweeps the horizon, and I wonder if he’s seeing it the way I do. The hurricane destroyed this place and then a fire destroyed it even more. The old roller coaster that was on the pier was sitting in the ocean after Hurricane Sandy. I remember watching the television, calling Cat, and both of us crying. My cousin’s beach house was completely flooded, and so many people we know lost everything.

But no matter what people say about New Jersey . . . the people who live there are strong and don’t surrender.

We fight.

So, while it’s not the same roller coaster, there is a new one. And even though I didn’t kiss my high school boyfriend at the top of that one, I’d bet another girl has, which makes me smile.

“There are actual boards,” he muses as he kicks the ground.

“Yes, which is why it’s called a boardwalk, unlike in Virginia where you have it paved.”

“We pave it so people don’t trip, like that guy . . .”

Silly Quinn. “That’s part of the experience.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him and then kisses the top of my head. “Sometimes, I wonder about you.”

“Wonder away, but wait until you officially become Jersey approved.”

He doesn’t seem all that excited, but he will be.

We walk a bit and then the stand comes into view. In the middle of the boardwalk, there it is . . . Midway Steak House.

“That is where you wanted me to eat? It looks like a carnival stand.”

Oh, no. He will not ruin my day at the shore. I know that he’s overly careful about what he eats, but I’m not having it. We are going to enjoy this as though calories don’t count.

I turn to him, making sure my voice is strong and convincing. “For one day, you’re going to indulge me. You’re going to eat fatty, greasy foods, and like it. You’ll get ice cream wrapped in a waffle, fries, a cheesesteak, and maybe even some cotton candy because I’m pregnant and you did it to me.”

“On one condition.”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain.”

Quinn grins as his hands rest on my hips. “I’m pretty sure you love me and I’m not going anywhere. So, now that we’ve established my groveling period is officially over, I’m most definitely in the position I want to be in.”

“Are you so sure of that?” I ask with one eyebrow raised.

“Yup.”

Damn it. He’s right. I do love him and I’m not about to get rid of him—even if it’s over food.

“What are your demands?”

He fights back a smile, but I still see it before he is able to control himself. “First, after this, you’re going to clean up your diet. You need to eat better, especially since you’re eating for two.”

I look at my belly with a frown. “The baby likes fries.”

“The baby”—he shakes his head—“should eat more apples than fries.”

“Whatever.”

“Second, you and all fast food are about to break up.” I go to open my mouth, but he starts back up before I can speak. “I know that you like it and I know the baby likes it, but if you want a day of me eating food I would never touch, then you’re going to sacrifice a bit for me.”

“For how long?

“One week.”

That’s not even an option. “No way. One day for you and one week for me?”

“Fine, two days.”

He’s nuts. I’m not giving up junk food because of this. Then I think about how I should turn the tables on him. Quinn wants me to quit junk food because he’s a health nut? Well, he hasn’t seen me really eat because I often hide some of it around him. “You know . . .” I say sweetly. “I was thinking, and you’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have to eat anything you don’t want, even if it is something I want to share with you.” Quinn’s eyes narrow. He knows I’m up to something. I drop my head, looking at where my hands rest on his chest. Very innocently, which is not innocent at all, I start to move my fingers as though I’m playing with the fabric. “I know that it’s important to you to stay healthy, right?”