What in the hell could he do so she’d love him back?
He felt her subtly shift her weight, and felt her gaze, even with his eyes still closed, steadily on his face. He debated on how to handle this morning. What he wanted to do was open his eyes and tell her he loved her, straight out. He realized that he was dying to tell her, to share it with her ... as he did every other thing that happened as his days bumped along. She’d so swiftly become his friend and his lover, his companion and his cohort. How could he keep something so important from her?
He cracked one eye open, and her brown eyes were shining right into his. A smile immediately curved those beautiful, lush lips. Everything inside him relaxed.
Calm down, Brannigan. He had time. Thank God. No need to rush things and blow it. She was happy and smiling. That was enough. For now. He’d tell her when she was ready. He could wait for that. He’d waited his whole life, after all.
He opened his other eye and let himself enjoy the simple and exquisite pleasure of drinking his fill of her, understanding he was already half-buzzed on love.
“Morning, Cap’n,” she said, all double dimples, and looking like the cat with the proverbial canary.
His grin was slower, but curved just as deeply. He lazily wrapped one of her blond curls around his finger and tugged her gently closer. “So”—the word came out as a gravelly drawl—“I can’t wait to play doctor and naughty nurse.”
She snorted a little giggle, which made him chuckle. “Can we take turns with the roles?”
He lifted his eyebrows, but pretended to give it some thought. “Okay. But candy stripes really aren’t my color.”
There was a scratching sound at the stateroom door.
Riley lifted a warning finger. “No stethoscope for Brutus. He’ll just eat it.”
Quinn laughed huskily. “So noted.” He glanced at the clock. “Uh-oh. Somebody is really late for work.” He lightly slapped her butt. “Naughty pirate wench.”
“I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, as you were too busy ravaging my lusty and voluptuous pirate booty. I don’t have to be there until eleven.”
“That might be the second best news I’ve had so far today. What say we go avail ourselves of that hearty repast?”
“That sounds heavenly. I’ll take your pirate matey out there in the hall for his walk if you’ll do the reheating.”
“Deal.”
She started to shift so she could sit up, but stopped and leaned down, kissing him, not on the mouth ... but on his chest. Right over his heart. She looked up, and there was a spectacular shine in her eyes. “What was the first best news you’ve had today?”
All of his carefully laid plans went right up in smoke.
“That I love you.”
She froze.
He closed his eyes. Seriously, Brannigan? The single most important thing, the only thing he had to get right, and—
“Good,” she whispered.
He froze.
“Quinn.”
He opened his eyes.
She was smiling, dimples winking, brown eyes dancing, freckled cheeks blooming pink. Her hair was a wild halo around her head. She had a Bullwinkle bandage on her elbow, and her massive dog was heavily snort-breathing under the bedroom door. “I didn’t want you to have your eyes closed the first time I told you I loved you.”
Suddenly it was the Fourth of July inside his head, his heart, and he was pretty sure all over the universe as he knew it. He rolled her to her back, framed her face with his hands.
“You do.” Making it more statement than question, he needed to make sure he hadn’t gone to some parallel dimension in his head after blurting out his own admission. “You’re sure?”
She placed her hand over his heart. “I, Riley Brown, love you, Quinn Brannigan, with my whole messed-up, beat-up, but resilient-as-all-hell heart.”
“How?”
She spluttered a laugh. “How? What do you mean, how? Hopefully really, really well.”
He tried to get his galloping heart and his even more unruly thundering thoughts under control. “It wasn’t that long ago that you couldn’t even—”
She touched his lips with her finger. “You helped me figure it out, to see who I’d already become. You pushed me, you believed in me, you badgered me ... and this morning you loved me. At least that’s what it felt like to me.”
“It was. I am so head over heels in love with you.”
Sudden tears sparkled on her lashes, but the light in her eyes was a joyous one. “That’s what I knew I wanted to get to. I watched you sleep this morning, and I thought over everything, and I have clarity now. I see what it was with Jeremy. What I was. And what I wasn’t. I know who I’ve become, Quinn. A woman who wants to love and be loved, and who finally understands how. Then I looked at you ... and realized I’m already there.”
“Would you have told me? Had I not—”
“I don’t know.” He appreciated that truth. Because it helped him to believe the rest.
She smiled again. “Were you planning on telling me?”
“I wanted to. I wanted to shout it. But I wanted you to have time and space. I wanted you to be more sure. Of me. Of you.”
“What happened?”
“You kissed my heart, and then you smiled at me with your heart in your eyes. When you asked me what the best news was, there was nothing to say but the God’s honest truth. I couldn’t not say it.”
Her eyes grew extra shiny and the self-deprecating laughter that followed was sweet music. “I’m pretty sure that’s what I would have done, too. But I’m glad you said it first.”
“Sure, sure,” he teased, “piggyback on.” Just like that, everything slid back into place, that rhythm, that space they’d carved out just for the two of them, that only they understood, where only they existed.
“Look at it this way,” she said. “You got to hear it like I did, all curled up in our bed, happy and satiated after an amazing morning of hot sex and wonderful lovemaking. Left up to me, you know I’d have probably blurted it out at the most inappropriate time, in God only knows what place, or in front of who knows who.” She lifted her head, and kissed his mouth. Gentle, sweet, pure. “I’m glad we got to have it right here on our little pirate ship, just between the two of us.”
A bellowing, door-rattling woof reverberated around the stateroom.
“Three of us,” she amended, and they laughed.
“Can I tell you the third best news?”
“You don’t have to be the one to take him for a walk?” Riley guessed.
Quinn rolled to his back and slid her on top of him. “You said our bed.”
“Well, it is our bed. Wait, you don’t think we’re going to share it with—” She nodded to the door.
He barked out a laugh. “Uh, no. He can sleep on the floor if he wants though.” He nestled her more snugly on top of him. “I just liked that instead of yours and mine ... there’s an ours now.”
“Yeah,” she said, and leaned down. “Yours,” she breathed, as she kissed him long and slow, bringing all those banked embers back to life. “Mine,” she panted, sliding his hand down until it covered her breast, where he rubbed, rolled, tweaked.
He lifted her hips even as she started to do so herself, sliding her body down over his, until they were fully, completely joined.
“And ours,” they said together.
Outside the door, Brutus rested his mighty head on his paws as he made himself more comfortable. He’d wait. It was okay. After all, he had a family to look after now.
With that in mind, he rolled slowly over to his side, letting out a long, sleepy sigh as he relaxed his back against the door. Yep. It was a job he planned to take very, very seriously. As laughter pealed on the other side of the door, and someone burst into song, he closed his eyes ... and let his tongue loll happily to the side.
Epilogue
Riley glanced at the clock in Quinn’s kitchen, and sidled over to the crystal cupcake display. Half past one in the morning.
The poker tournament had finally wound down and was officially over. Thank God.
“Lost twenty bucks,” Quinn said as he came in through the door from the deck.
“How’d that happen?” Riley eyed one of Lani’s few remaining dark chocolate and raspberry cupcakes, but decided it was just too late to give in to temptation.
Quinn bent down and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “There was a pool going as to whether the police would be summoned before or after midnight. Person picking the closest time in a fifteen-minute interval wins.”
“The police weren’t here, were they? What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” he said, turning her into his arms. “That’s why I lost the twenty.”
“Ah,” she said, smiling. “Sucker.”
“Apparently.” He leaned down and trailed his tongue along her jaw, to her ear. “And yet, you never seem to complain ...”
As tired as she was, he stirred her body to life. She should be used to that by now. Or dead. She had no idea where their stamina was coming from. She figured it was a good thing they both had jobs to do or they might never wear clothes. Turned out naked sunset cruise time was pretty fun.
“How did that last part of the scene you were working on go?” she asked. “Did you get all the right info for the dressage stuff, for the horse show?”
“I did. Then they ended up not going.”
“Why?”
He grinned. “Never could get them out of that damn hayloft.”
“Ungrateful characters. After you did all that research.”
He shrugged. “That’s okay. It didn’t suck to be me today, either way.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” Riley leaned up and kissed him. “Although I’m beginning to see a trend with this sucking thing and you, today.”
“Day’s not over either.” Quinn plucked a cupcake from the display and dangled it in front of her. “Pirate’s ship or knight’s castle?”
“I’m so tired, I don’t know if it’s going to matter. So don’t go dangling your ... cupcakes at me.”
“Still in public,” Char sang as she swooped into the kitchen with another bag of trash.
Riley looked past Quinn’s shoulder. “You said get a room, you didn’t specify which one.”
Quinn turned her around and pulled her back against him, looping his arms around her waist as he rested his weight on the breakfast nook table. Only Riley understood the real reason for his snuggled pose. It was presently pressed against her backside.
She wiggled, just slightly, and his arms tightened like steel bands. He leaned down and pressed a kiss near her ear. “Careful what you wriggle for,” he whispered.
“Do you need a hand with that,” Riley asked Char, then wriggled, just a tiny bit, once more.
“No, this is the last round.”
“Outstanding menu,” Quinn said to Charlotte, who was scooping up the last few disposable plates and cups and adding them to her trash bag. “The savory and the sweet. Please give my regards to Carlo. I’ll pass the word to my agent and publisher. They often have to entertain at things like regional book-fairs, writers’ conferences, that sort of thing, and are always looking for the best and most interesting.”
Charlotte smiled. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” To Riley, she said, “Okay, we’ll keep him.” Adding the full trash bag to the ones already lined up along the wall, Char snatched up another empty tray and bustled to the door, at which point she glanced over her shoulder.
But Riley beat her to it. “It’s only still in public because the public isn’t leaving.”
Quinn chuckled as Charlotte sailed out.
“She’s just grumpy because her panky isn’t here,” Riley told him.
Char’s catering service had been double booked at the eleventh hour. By stepping in and taking over a birthday celebration bash for one of the mayor’s closest aides when his caterer backed out at the last minute, Char and Carlo were likely to get many other bookings, not to mention being owed a favor by the mayor. It meant Charlotte had run Alva’s event, while Carlo had done the birthday party.
“What’s a panky?” Quinn asked.
“Long story,” Riley said, just as Dre hustled in with another loaded tray. Because of the double booking, she’d stepped in to help serve.
“She was dealing off the bottom,” Dre was saying. “Hey, Riley. Hey, Quinn.” Dre turned back to Franco as he came in behind her. “I saw her with my own eyes.”
“No one said a word to her,” Franco responded, and Dre leveled a look of disbelief at him. “Okay, fine,” he went on, “but if Alva was dealing from the bottom, why wasn’t Beryl getting better hands? Suzette took half the pot tonight.”
“I said I saw her deal from the bottom. I didn’t say she was any good at it. And, if you noticed, Beryl won the trip to Baxter’s taping and one of Quinn’s books.”
“This is true.”
Charlotte came in again. “This is the last of it.” To Quinn, she said, “Are you certain you don’t mind me coming back tomorrow to get all my stuff? Carlo is stuck in Savannah. The party is going way over, and I won’t get our van back until—”
“It’s fine, really,” Quinn assured her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No. I’ll have some helpers with me tomorrow. We need to come get all the equipment for another event the day after tomorrow.”
“It’s an anti-versary party,” Franco added. “For a group of divorcees. Should be interesting.”
“Interesting is certainly one word,” Charlotte said. “Can you still drive me back tonight?”
“Of course, ma petite.” He looked at Dre. “You ready?”
“As ever.” Dre took off her Sweet and Savory server’s jacket.
“You are godsends, both of you,” Char said. She turned back to Riley and Quinn. “We leave you in privacy.”
“You did good,” Riley told her. “All I heard were raves.”
“Except for old Mrs. Lauderberg,” Dre added. “But considering she was sampling all the garnishes and not any of the actual food, I don’t think that counts. She kept complaining how bitter everything was. I tried to tell her parsley snips weren’t part of the serving menu, but she smacked my hand when I tried to take her plate.” Dre examined the back of her left hand. “Turns out she wears a lot of rings. Heavy ones.”
“Tough audience,” Quinn offered.
“You said it.”
Saying their good nights, they all headed to the door.
“We’ll see ourselves out,” Franco said.
Char was the last one out, then turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot. When you see Lani tomorrow night—tell her I’m sorry I won’t be there. I have to get all this transition and prep done, but let her know I think I have the perfect person for her to talk to.”
Riley frowned. “About?”
“The mail-order business she’s thinking about starting, as an adjunct to the cupcakery. Requests for mail orders keep flooding in every time the Hot Cakes road trip show is repeated. With Baxter being a constant draw to the area, and their joint cookbook coming out sometime next year, she thought it would be a good idea to get the mail-order division up and running. I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything about it, with all the time you’ve spent working on the cookbook.”
“She mentioned it. I just didn’t realize she was going to move on it so fast.”
“Well, only if they can find someone she can trust who can handle it, and hit the ground running. Anyway”—Charlotte fished in the pocket of her chef’s jacket—“I’ll just put her card here. Her name is Kit Bellamy.”
“I’ll make sure Lani gets it. I know she was bummed she couldn’t be here.” At one time, Riley had hoped she’d get sick so she could miss the tournament, but Lani actually had.
Char smiled. “Between you and me, I don’t think she was that bummed.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “Are you saying she played hookey?” “Maybe. Baxter got back from New York a day early. Bu
t you didn’t hear it from me. Okay, I’m really leaving now.” She looked at Quinn, then back at Riley. “Nice panky, I will give you that. Have a good night.”
“What is it with this panky business?” Quinn said, barely waiting for the front door to close before he turned and neatly pinned Riley between him and the breakfast nook table behind her.
“No hanky-panky in the kitchen on club night unless everyone’s hanky has a panky. Or something like that.”
“Ah. That clears it right up.”
“It made perfect sense at the time.”
“So ... I’m your official panky, am I?”
“That you are.”
“Well, it’s awfully convenient that we’re in a kitchen. And you’re the only hanky here.”
“Hmm. You make a good point.”
He pressed against her, and she grinned. “More than one, it would seem.”
He lofted the cupcake again, then peeled the paper liner off with his teeth. “Did I mention that I’m plagued by this fantasy I’ve had? It involves you, a cupcake, some amazing chocolate frosting ... and me getting the chance to lick it off.”
“Funny, sounds like I’ve heard that story before.”
“All but the licking it off part.”
She pretended to think about that. “No ... that was definitely part of the story.” A slow smile spread across her face. “At least that’s how I remember it playing out. And I remembered it ... a lot.”
“Funny, so did I.”
“Huh. What should we do about that?” she asked.
“I think we should compare stories. See how they ... stack up.”
“Hmm. I think you’re the one who told me that writers should always show ... not tell.”
“It really is the best way.” Quinn popped open the buttons down the front of her blouse one at a time with his free hand.
Riley looked down. “You’re very good at that.”
“I’m very motivated at the moment. I’m really good when I’m motivated.” He pushed her back onto the table, her blouse sliding down her arms as she braced herself. He flipped open the front catch of her bra on the first try.
“I’ve noticed that.” Her breathing started to hitch a little as he spread her legs with his thighs ... and dragged his finger through the thick, dark chocolate ganache frosting.
Sweet Stuff Page 29
