“I should warn you that I tend to do that, too.”
“But you know how and when to say it.” He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss on each of her fingers, then her palm and then the inside of her wrist. With each touch, her heart beat faster and her skin grew more heated. Ellen closed her eyes, a sigh slipping through her parted lips. The next moment his lips glided across her cheek and teased the side of her mouth. The kisses that followed were soft, warm, and made her melt. She twined her arms around his neck, her heart pounding so hard she felt faint.
The distinctive sound of a door closing was an unwelcome intrusion. Quinn allowed her to sit up, but when she tried to leave his lap, he tightened his hold on her. She frantically pointed in the direction of the kitchen, but he just nodded and smiled. When Jase strolled through the archway into the living room, the slight frown on his face flew away as if by magic to be replaced by a knowing grin.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
He didn’t sound in the least sorry.
“No problem,” Quinn said. “I was getting ready to walk Ellen home.”
Jase nodded. “Yeah, that’s what it looks like. I think I’ll just head to my room.”
Quinn laughed. “Good idea.”
Once they were alone, Ellen glared at her companion. “Why didn’t you let me move?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. It was obvious what we were doing.” As if to prove his point, he kissed her again. “In case you were wondering, your kisses are dreamy, too.”
She laughed as she rose to her feet. “So you’re not disappointed?”
He reached for her hand as he led the way outside. “I’m the opposite of disappointed. Can I see you tomorrow?”
“You can see me every day if you want to.”
“That simplifies things. I was planning on driving to Brunswick to look at some old cars. If you don’t mind that part, we could check out the art festival being held in the historic district before we come home.”
They stopped at the cottage door. “All of that sounds great. I just have one request. Can we take the Chevelle? I really want to ride in it.”
He grinned. “I guess it is a girl magnet. Yes, we can take it.”
“What time did you want to go?”
“Would one-thirty work for you?”
“It would.”
He leaned down and kissed her lightly, and then a second time, not so lightly. “Thank you for listening and even more for your patience and understanding.”
“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Quinn.”
* * * * *
The trip to Brunswick took less than an hour. As he exited the highway, Quinn glanced across the seat at his companion and smiled. Ellen hadn’t stopped talking about the car since they backed out of his driveway. The breeze from the open windows pulled at her hair, sending it streaming out behind her. His glance rested momentarily on her thick eyelashes, long and silky, before dropping to take in the beauty of perfectly shaped lips, rosily pink.
He knew the lip gloss she wore was strawberry flavored because he’d kissed her when he fastened her seatbelt. He hadn’t been prepared for her to kiss him back. He could still feel the touch of her hands on his face as she placed soft kisses on his lips and cheeks, sending his brain into orbit and his heart into overdrive. It was a wonder he could remember how to drive the car.
As he turned on the narrow dirt road, he said, “Not long now.”
“You’re probably ready to get there. I’ve talked your ear off. That should bring back old memories of me pouncing on you as soon as you arrived at my house to pick up Bethany.”
He put his hand over hers where it rested on her leg. “I like listening to you talk. It relaxes me.”
She turned her hand over and linked her fingers through his. “Are you looking for another project car?”
“I want to get something Samuel and I can work on together. He practically lived with me on the weekends when Jase and I were restoring the Chevelle. I want to foster that interest. When he’s old enough to drive, I’ll give him the car.”
“It bothers you that his father isn’t around, doesn’t it?”
“It does more than bother me. It makes me angry. Samuel’s father lives less than ten minutes away and yet he never goes to see his children.”
“Divorce is a no-win situation for kids. They lose no matter how amicable the split.”
“You and I are fortunate that our parents stayed together. I had lots of friends who weren’t so lucky.”
“What will you do if Samuel loses interest?”
“I’ll finish the car and hold on to it for him.”
“You could sell the Chevelle to me, and keep the other car for yourself.”
“I’ll give you the Chevelle. All you have to do is ask.”
“You’ll give me your car?”
“What you’ve given me is worth more than a car.”
There was a moment of stunned silence and then, “I hope you’re joking.”
“I’ve never been more serious. If kindness can be measured in material things, I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
“Kindness is measured in the joy it brings to the recipient. By that estimate, you’re well ahead.”
A brick house came into view. Just beyond the house was a metal building. Parked outside in uneven rows was an assortment of dust-covered cars, each in varying states of disrepair. Quinn pulled next to the building and released her hand to shut off the engine. Then he turned to look at her.
“You don’t give an inch, do you?”
“Nope. You might as well get used to it.”
Quinn leaned over and kissed her shoulder. “Not a problem.” Then he got out and walked around to open her door. “I like a girl who won’t back down.”
“Then we should get along just fine.”
He chuckled as he held out his hand to help her out of the car. “I think so, too. Let’s go see if anyone’s at home. I’m supposed to meet someone named Joe.”
About that time, the garage door opened and an older man appeared. After the introductions had been made, Joe led them inside the building where he kept what he called the ‘newer stock’. Quinn knew that meant ‘pricier’ items. Not wanting to show his hand too soon, he listened patiently while he was given chapter and verse of each vehicle’s history. Only then did he start asking questions, the ones that proved he knew as much about restoring cars as the man selling them.
The one he was interested in was sitting outside. It was a ‘69 Dodge Charger, a model made famous by its use in the iconic television show The Dukes of Hazzard. Once Joe discovered that Quinn was responsible for the work on the Chevelle, he dropped his salesmen jargon and started talking shop. Forty-five minutes later, they were discussing the merits of the Charger and negotiating a price. Twenty minutes later, Quinn and Ellen were strolling along Newcastle Street in Brunswick’s historic district.
He drew her arm through his. “I’ve done my shopping for the day. Now it’s your turn.”
“I wouldn’t mind looking around in some of the antique stores. I enjoy the challenge of finding a prize amongst all the junk.”
“Have you ever tried going straight to the source? My sister introduced me to estate sales. That’s where I got my dining room furniture.”
“I haven’t gone to any estate sales, but my mother does.” Ellen pointed to a shop with window boxes full of flowers. “This looks interesting. Let’s go in here.”
Quinn glanced at the name on the door. It was a florist. “Is this a fact-finding mission?”
“It never hurts to see what someone else is doing,” she replied as she led the way inside.
When they came out a few minutes later, he noticed a little girl holding a melting ice cream cone. He smiled to himself, an idea forming in his head.
* * * * *
Their next stop was the antique store a few doors down from the florist. Ellen felt the warmth of the hand resting at her waist and had to blink away the tears in her eyes. S
he still couldn’t believe all that had passed between her and Quinn in less than twenty-four hours. His sincere apology, his willingness to share details she knew were painful, and most of all, his admission of his feelings had taken her by storm. Even his kisses had been different. Was it because he wasn’t holding back part of himself anymore?
Only one thing remained. In a way, she just wanted that part to be over so she could put his final fears to rest, but the decision of when to take that next step had to come from Quinn.
She looked up from the lace runner she’d been examining to find him watching her. He could say more with his eyes than anyone she’d ever met. What they were saying now had her cheeks turning pink.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered.
“Like what?” he asked innocently.
“As if I’m a piece of candy you want to eat. It’s very…distracting.”
“Hmm. I wonder what we can do about it.” He snapped his fingers. “I know.” He put his sunglasses back on. “Is that better?”
She pushed against his chest. “No, because I know you’re still doing it.”
“I can’t help it. Candy is a particular weakness of mine.”
“How would you like it if I did it to you?”
Quinn laughed softly. “I’d like it very much.”
She laughed, too. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Can you help me look through these? Ideally, I’d like to have two runners with a similar pattern about three feet long and without any obvious issues.”
“Are these for the cottage or for the shop?” he asked, holding a runner up to the light as if he was studying an x-ray.
“For the shop.”
“This one has a tiny tear on the end, but otherwise it’s fine.”
She took it from him. “I can fix that easily enough, and it’s not so different from this other one I found. Do you see any old teapots or watering cans?”
Quinn scanned the room. “There are a few ceramic teapots on that cast iron stove in the corner.”
“Let me take a look. With Mother’s Day coming up, I’d like to have a few on hand to use for arrangements.”
“I imagine that’s a busy day for you.”
“I haven’t experienced it yet, but according to the woman who used to work for my aunt, it’s the busiest time of the year.”
“In other words, I better not wait until the last minute to place my order.”
“That’s right.” She picked up a black teapot with yellow polka dots and peered inside. “It doesn’t have to be perfect because I’m not planning to use it for cooking, but it does have to be watertight.”
After she paid for the items, Quinn took the bag from the sales clerk and followed her out of the store.
When they reached Bay Street, it was evident that the art festival was in full swing. The sidewalk was teeming with people, old and young, laughing and talking. Ahead of them, the green lawn was dotted with colorful booths. In the background against the blue sky were the masts of the ships anchored on the water nearby.
They meandered through a throng of eager customers, admiring the varied selection of crafts representing artisans from all over the South. Although she didn’t say anything, Ellen was aware of the curious and many times rude stares Quinn received. She also heard the comments, some compassionate and some just plain mean-spirited, spoken just loud enough to be discerned.
Her usually mild temper quickly became not so mild. If it upset her, how much more did it disturb him? How could he remain so calm? And why would he subject himself to this in the first place? That’s when it hit her: this is what he faced everywhere he went. It was just more noticeable when he was in a crowd.
She wanted to call out such impolite behavior and demand an apology, but it wouldn’t make any difference. It was impossible to fight something so ingrained in human society. So she did the next best thing: she moved closer to Quinn. He didn’t mind that at all; he sent her a smile that had her wishing they were alone.
When he suggested they take advantage of an empty bench near the water, she agreed. Her romantic nature and lively imagination were soon weaving stories about the various people around them. She didn’t realize the effect this activity had on her companion until she felt a touch on her arm.
“Remember me. My name is Quinn.”
Ellen laughed. “I’m sorry. This is another of those things you need to know about me. I’m a daydreamer. It doesn’t take much to send me off into my own world. In a setting like this, where there are so many people to make up stories about, it’s irresistible.”
“Which one or two of these fascinating people have caught your eye?”
“That young couple standing by the dock. You can tell they like each other, but they don’t seem to know what to do about it.”
He turned his head to look. “He knows what to do, but she’s not giving him much encouragement.”
“She’s shy and nervous. That’s why she keeps playing with the rings on her fingers.”
Quinn chuckled. “I always thought that meant the girl was bored.”
“Yawning and looking at a watch or phone indicates boredom. She hasn’t moved away from him, and she won’t meet his eyes. That means she wants him to kiss her.”
“So those are the signs, huh? I can’t say I didn’t learn something today.”
“Those are the subtle ones. There are obvious ones, too.”
“Yeah, I know. You do the obvious ones very well.”
She grinned. “I don’t remember doing anything.”
“You stare at my mouth. That will get you a kiss every time.”
“You look at mine a lot, too.”
“I can’t help it. It’s that weakness for candy that I mentioned earlier.”
“While we’ve been talking about ourselves, our couple has left. I wonder if she’ll get her kiss.”
“I don’t know, but you’ll be getting yours, possibly as soon as we reach the car. But for now, I’ve got something else in mind. Wait here; I’ll be right back.”
* * * * *
It only took Quinn a few minutes to find the place he was looking for. When he returned to Ellen, he handed her the bag as he sat down.
“I thought it was time we started working on that list of yours.”
She looked puzzled for a moment and then she smiled widely. “Quinn! What did you do?” She reached into the bag and removed the container with the distinctive pink plastic spoon. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait until we get to the car.” She leaned closer and brushed her lips against his. Even in its brevity, it had his heart pounding. “It was sweet of you to do this. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. This is a first for me. I’ve never shared a hot fudge sundae with anyone before.”
Ellen laughed as she removed the plastic lid. “Me, either, but I’m sure we can figure out what to do.”
What followed was something he would remember for a long time. He wasn’t a fan of ice cream in the normal way, but eating it with Ellen quickly changed his mind. She had a playful side that was appealing. In his enjoyment of her innocent pleasure, he didn’t feel the awkwardness that always plagued him when he was in public. He forgot what they must look like to everyone else: a beautiful woman and her tragically scarred companion.
He smiled as he watched her get the last bit of hot fudge off the bottom of the bowl. “Did the experience live up to your expectations?”
“It was better. My thirteen-year-old imagination never thought about actually feeding the ice cream to each other.”
“Oh, really? I thought that was the whole point of sharing it.”
“If it wasn’t before, it is now.”
On the way back to the car, they looked inside the historic Ritz Theater and the Old City Hall. Quinn had already visited both places, courtesy of his photography class, but he thought Ellen might enjoy seeing them. He took her to dinner at a small family-owned Italian restaurant. Later when they drove home, he couldn’t remember anything they’d t
alked about, but he did know that he didn’t want the day to end. All too soon, they were walking toward the cottage door.
“I had a great time today,” she said as she reached inside her purse for the key. “Now I have to shift gears and start thinking about work.”
“The descent back to reality is always a bummer. I’m speaking at a youth association meeting tomorrow night so I probably won’t be home until late. Can I knock on your door as I pass by?”
“I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
He slid his arms around her waist. “Ellen, I…” he stopped suddenly as he realized what he’d been about to say. The shock of it held him silent.
She took his hesitation to mean something else. She opened the door of the cottage and pulled him inside. Then she wound her arms around his neck. “You were saying?” she asked softly.
The second his lips touched hers, the confused jumble of fluctuating feelings he’d been dealing with for weeks untangled. The snowball representing his attraction for Ellen had reached critical mass. He loved her. Pulling her more firmly against him, he deepened the kiss, shutting out the doubts swirling around in his head. He didn’t want to think about what might happen tomorrow. For now, this moment was enough.
Chapter Eight
Ellen was halfway through her morning routine at the shop when she remembered the lunch date she’d made with Faith. She supposed she could be forgiven for forgetting a small detail like that given her current state of mind. When Frank returned from his morning class, she told him of her plans.
“I’ll be back around one-thirty. If a Mrs. Peabody calls from St. Marys Living, just take a message. We’re supposed to set up a time for her to come by and interview us.”
“Interview us?” he asked, letting his backpack slide to the floor. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’re the other half of Violets are Blue, Frank. You have to be in the article, too. I couldn’t have made it these last nine months without you. And that brings me to something else. Now that we’re doing better, I can afford to pay you what you deserve.”
He looked embarrassed. “You gave me a job when no one else would. I’ll never forget that.”
Yours, With Love: A Sweet Contemporary Romance (Finding Love Book 5) Page 16
