I knew going into No Quick Fix that I would need to suspend my disbelief at times. Sometimes, a book is so good that I am entirely able to sacrifice of realism and logic for the sake of enjoyment. Unfortunately, with this one, no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to manage the balance between disbelief and enjoyment.
What I liked:
I loved the relationship between Brann and the kids, Olivia and April. This is a huge part of the story. It’s really the foundation of the story and I was so into it.
What I didn’t like/where I was unable to suspend disbelief:
Brann’s instinctive, perfect parenting of children immediately upon meeting them. I might have been able to overlook this naturally perfect ability if he had parented younger siblings but he didn’t. I might have been able to overlook it if he’d been raised by equally outstanding parents but he wasn’t. He somehow goes from having no interest in or experience with kids and no interest in wanting kids to being parent/nanny of the century instantaneously and with virtually no hesitation, awkwardness or fumbling. Overlookable if the rest of the story shines but it didn’t.
April and Olivia often acted far older than they were. Much of their dialogue felt far more appropriate for teens than 6 and 8 year olds.
The reasons for Emery’s engagement to Lydia were implausible. I probably could have overlooked this too if I hadn’t hated other things.
What I hated:
Immediately upon meeting Brann, Emery starts touching him in an overly familiar and possessive way. ALL THE TIME. We’re expected to think this is ok because Brann doesn’t mind it, he even enjoys it. But it is problematic. They are not in a relationship, they’re not dating, they’re not a couple, they’ve just met and neither of them ever discusses it. Emery apparently feels entitled to touch Brann wherever and however he wants and he also apparently assumes Brann is ok with it. Egregious? No. Cringeworthy? Yes.
I wasn’t ok with that regardless, but toward the end of the book Calmes eventually addresses the inappropriateness of the touching and lack of boundaries in way that simultaneously indicates that they’re both aware of how problematic it is and yet are equally dismissive of how problematic it is.
“You touched me all the time.”
“Yes, I did,” he admitted gravely.
“And you’re a high school teacher, so… you should be very aware of boundaries and touching and what that all means.”
“Which, of course, I am.”
“And yet with me…,” I said, letting the words trail off, waiting on him.
“And yet with you, all that flew out the window,” he finished my sentence for me, his breath a defeated huff. “I touched you all the time, and I couldn’t help it even though it only made everything worse for me.”
He KNEW it was inappropriate but HE COULDN’T HELP IT. WTF kind of excuse is that? So as a teacher would it have been ok for him to touch a student if he couldn’t help himself and he assumed the student was ok with it because they didn’t speak up against it? Would it have been ok for him to touch Brann had Brann been uncomfortable with it but too scared or uncomfortable or shy to speak up? No. This normalization of overstepping boundaries puts the responsibility of maintaining boundaries on the person whose physical boundaries have been violated rather than on asking consent and/or not crossing boundaries in the first place.
I am also not a fan of over-possessiveness and ownership. I know it’s common in romance but I can’t stand it. Once again, this is something I frequently overlook when I love the rest of the story but grated on me here.
Other things I hated:
The Scooby-Doo “mystery.” It was contrived and weak. It’s first introduced at 34% and then completely disappears from the story until 90% when it abruptly, out of the blue, reappears and is resolved within a few pages. It wasn’t integral to the story and was so eye rollingly ridiculous that it detracted from the story.
I’m starting to feel like the book review bitch, Overly Critical Kat, but... I’m tired of the way inappropriate touching and the lack of respect for personal space and boundaries is so pervasive and normalized and I simply can’t be silent about it.