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A Risk Worth Taking

Page 10

by Victoria James


  The silence stretched for several minutes. Holly was torn between staring at his stony profile and watching the road ahead.

  “We got married because she was pregnant.”

  …

  Quinn stared ahead intently as the yellow divider lines on the road disappeared beneath the onslaught of rain. He never should have taken Holly’s advice on taking the scenic mountainside route. On the best days, it was a drive that required lots of concentration. On nights like this one, even concentration could not guarantee a safe arrival home. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he felt the car shifting with the strong winds. He glanced in the rearview, amazed that Ella could sleep through the noise.

  Holly always could rattle him. Somewhere inside he knew that he wanted to confide in her, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. He hated talking about this. But he owed her an explanation. And he needed her to believe him when he said he never loved Christine. If he were completely honest with himself, he’d admit the real reason he didn’t want to tell her was fear that she’d look at him differently. She’d know he’d screwed up. Badly.

  “It was a painful time and I made a lot of mistakes,” he admitted after a few minutes, cringing at how loud he sounded in the silence of the car.

  “Sometimes the line between right and wrong isn’t so easy to see,” said Holly. “We all make the best choices we can at the time.”

  Something clenched inside him. He didn’t know if it was because what she said hit home or because he detected that she wasn’t judging him.

  “I don’t want to make excuses for myself, Holly. I let Christine down.” He stared ahead, concentrating on the road and swallowing his feelings. But he had to tell her.

  “So you got married because of the baby?” Holly asked when he didn’t speak.

  He nodded. “But I didn’t love her, and she didn’t love me. She thought she did. And she was so damn happy about the baby,” he said roughly. “I didn’t want the baby, Holly. I resented Christine. I was angry that I was put in that position. It was just a casual relationship. We were both young—there weren’t supposed to be strings. And then everything happened at the same time. It felt like my world was crumbling around me. My parents died, and I was left with a business on the edge of bankruptcy. Jake took off, Evan was in med school, and I was left here, trying to keep everything afloat.

  I caved. I sold the family house to pay for Evan’s school—I never told him about the debt in the business until much later. I basically sold everything I had, and Christine and I rented a crappy little place downtown. I worked my ass off and was never around for her. But I think the worst thing was that I was angry—I didn’t want a baby. I was too young, too in debt, and I didn’t love my child’s mother. What kind of man doesn’t want their own child? She had called me for help the morning she miscarried. But I was so self-centered, I didn’t answer the phone. I thought she was just calling to rail into me for something. Who doesn’t answer a call from their pregnant wife? I found out after it was all over. She miscarried in the hospital, all alone. I wasn’t there. If I had answered my phone, I could have gotten her to the hospital in time. She may not have lost the baby. I felt like a monster. I failed Christine. I was selfish and stupid, and the thought that our baby died without ever knowing that I loved him—”

  “You don’t know that you could have saved the baby. You can’t take that kind of blame,” she said, interrupting him. “I know you, better than you think. And I know, without a doubt, that had your baby been born, you would have loved him more than yourself. I know what kind of man you are, and not for one second do I think there’d be a better father out there. You are the man that wants to take care of everything. You want to fix things for everyone. And for once in your life, you couldn’t. You couldn’t make everything right, and you’re blaming yourself.” She reached out and put her hand on his thigh, her voice trailing off.

  Her hand on his leg was gentle, reassuring, and it was like she reached inside of him and tugged on that piece of his heart he’d been hiding. He didn’t know how she was able to do this. To see through him, to figure him out, to forgive him and absolve him of mistakes he’d made. He blinked past the wetness that stung the back of his eyes. He glanced over at her and was shaken. Because as the three of them sat in the car, lost in the pain of his memories, he wondered how things would have turned out if that had been Holly.

  Quinn cleared his throat. There was no point in looking back and wishing for things that couldn’t happen. Ella’s cry broke the sudden silence, and it was a poignant reminder of what he’d said no to. Quinn squared his shoulders, reining in the unusual emotions that were encompassing his thoughts.

  “What are you doing?” he gasped.

  Holly had unbuckled her seat belt and was leaning into the back of the SUV.

  “Grabbing a pacifier. She’ll terrorize us if I don’t find it,” she mumbled, nowhere near her seat anymore.

  “You can’t take off your seat belt while I’m driving on a cliff in a raging storm!”

  She ignored him and continued rummaging around the backseat.

  “Holly, hurry up.” He rounded a turn and started on a downward descent from the mountain.

  “Stop being such an old grouch,” she called out over her shoulder.

  “I’m not old.”

  “There! All done,” she said with a smile as she sat back down and re-buckled her seat belt. Ella stopped crying. “That should buy us twenty minutes.”

  “No pressure,” he said dryly.

  He took the turnoff to her street a few minutes later, then pulled into the dark driveway. He wanted to ask her so many things. And he didn’t want this day to be over—another day closer to when she’d leave forever.

  Holly was fishing in her purse for her keys. Dammit. Why did it always feel like he never had enough time with her? The porch lights filtered through the car window, illuminating the car enough that he could see her clearly.

  “Thanks again, Quinn,” she said, shooting him a sidelong smile as she gathered her purse and belongings. They were back to pretending nothing had happened.

  “I’ll carry Ella in for you,” he said, glancing back at the sleeping baby.

  “No, that’s—”

  “Please, I don’t mind,” he said hoarsely as he unbuckled his seat belt.

  “Okay. Thanks,” she said, shocking him with her easy acquiescence. They were being much too polite.

  “Considering how hard the rain is coming down, I think I’ll leave all my purchases in the car tonight,” Holly said. “I hope they’ll be safe.”

  He couldn’t resist. “I really think that if a thief broke into a Lexus, he wouldn’t be doing it for that junk in the back.”

  “It’s not junk,” she grumbled.

  Quinn opened his door and cursed as he stepped in a giant pothole of muddy water, the rain soaking him instantly. He made a mental note to mention to Holly that the driveway needed paving. Maybe he’d hire someone to pave the driveway at his own expense. He’d deal with Holly’s wrath over that later.

  He came around to the passenger side just as Holly was emerging. She handed him a blanket for Ella.

  “You go inside. I’ll get her. No point in both of us getting soaked,” he said, opening the back door. He unbuckled Ella and gently pulled her into his arms, wrapping the blanket around her. She murmured softly, then settled against him with the complete trust only a baby could have.

  Quinn made his way down the uneven path and joined Holly on the porch. Holly jiggled the lock and jerked the door open, stepping inside silently as he followed. She flicked on a light and turned to look at him.

  “Do you want me to hold her?” she whispered, looking at Ella, who seemed to be perfectly content snoozing on his shoulder.

  Quinn shook his head. Then he looked up at Holly and lost all sense of self-preservation. His mind emptied of the reasons they couldn’t be together, and refilled with all the reasons they should be. Holly and Ella were bringing out feelings�
�powerful, protective feelings he couldn’t ignore. Holly’s large eyes were on him, and he could swear he read the same longing in her eyes. He knew she felt it. His eyes wandered over her face as she watched him. He looked at her hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. The stubborn chin. The full lips. He took it all in, memorized it, cherished it. He wanted her. He wanted to be the man in Holly and Ella’s life.

  “I’d invite you in, but—”

  He shook his head. He was going to say the words that he’d wanted to since she told him she was selling the house. “Have you thought about staying here?” He held his breath as she placed her coat on the chair in the entry.

  She didn’t look at him when she answered, “What would we do here? I have an amazing career, stable income—”

  “Work for me,” he blurted out, carefully shifting Ella in his arms so she was snuggled warmly against his other shoulder. Holly working as an interior designer at his company had been an idea he’d been toying with for a few weeks. Was it selfishly motivated? Sure it was.

  “We could use an interior designer on staff. Especially one with your credentials. We’re going to be doing some more condo projects and corporate work. I think it would be a great fit.”

  She crossed her arms. “I can’t. Moving back here is not an option for me.”

  “But you’d have a job. You’ll have a flexible schedule, work from home, we have an excellent benefits package. You’d be back in the town you grew up in, the same house—”

  Holly’s eyes locked onto his, her expression silencing him “You don’t understand. I can’t move back here. It’s not an option.” There was something in her eyes that bothered him.

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “I have a life in Toronto,” she whispered. Her face had turned pale, and he could tell there was more than she was letting on.

  “Yeah, but I bet you hardly get to see Ella. What if I told you I could offer you a position that would allow you to work from home most of the time? I mean, it’s not Martin Laurence, but it’s still—”

  “Thank you. But I can’t move back here, I can’t live in this house.” Her voice cracked, and he felt like a jerk. A few weeks ago, he’d called her cold for selling the house. Now, he knew. The vulnerability that she tried so desperately to hide was staring him in the face. Holly was afraid. This place was her old house, but everyone she loved was gone. The memories were haunting her. He felt powerless at seeing her pain. He hated thinking of Holly as alone, of having no one left to rely on. Yet she stood there proudly. Stoically. Her eyes held a pain he knew he’d never fully comprehend. Her chin trembled, and he knew she was blinking back tears, desperate to hold on to them. Because Holly hated showing weakness. He understood that. He could even admire it. Except when the pain was so strong that it threatened to destroy her. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to yell at her until she let it all out. He wanted her to trust him with her heartache.

  “Did you ever think that maybe your grandparents would have wanted you to live here with Ella? That maybe Jennifer and Rick would have wanted—”

  “Jennifer and Rick were going to live here. I was supposed to do this renovation for them. They should be here now, with Ella. I don’t belong in this house anymore. I know you can’t understand. You have family, you have Jake and Evan. I have no one.”

  “Don’t say that,” he bit out harshly. He wanted to add that she had him, but how could he, when their relationship was barely definable. “You have Ella.”

  “Now I have Ella. But I have no idea if she’s going to grow up and hate me—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m tired. I have to get Ella to bed. Thanks for coming with us today,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached out for Ella.

  He shook his head. “The Holly I knew never would have been afraid,” he said gruffly, trying to illicit a reaction, trying to keep her talking any way he could. Her green eyes glittered and she tilted her chin up. “The girl that stood out on that porch ten years ago—”

  “Was naive and trusting, and—”

  “Was so goddamn sweet you took my breath away,” he said, his voice coming out harsh and raspy. She backed up a step and her lower lip quivered. “Holly,” he groaned, wanting to reach out and kiss her, hold her.

  “Don’t do this to me,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “Not now. How do you think you’d feel if your only sibling died suddenly and left you with a baby? I had no one. No one,” she gasped, tears filling her eyes, and it took all of Quinn’s self control not to gather her in his arms. “Everyone I’ve ever loved is gone, and now I’ve got to figure out how the hell I’m going to keep my life and raise this little girl. And you think I’m going to move back here because you’re offering me a job? Maybe a date? We’ve never been more than friends. You never even had the nerve to kiss me properly—”

  “What?” Anger engulfed him at her accusation. Didn’t have the nerve to kiss her properly?

  “That’s right,” she said, nodding frantically.

  “You were eighteen years old, for crying out loud. Forgive me if I had a policy against kissing teenagers.”

  “You were chicken.”

  Quinn’s eyes were burning as he stared at her. “Chicken?”

  She nodded vigorously. And then had the utter nerve to flap her arms. “As in Bok, Bok.”

  “First you make me feel bad for everything you went through. And you know what? I do. And you know what else? I think you’re the bravest damn woman I’ve ever met. You’re the sexiest, hottest woman I’ve ever known and, hell, if you want me to kiss you, Holly, just ask.”

  He did get a bit of satisfaction when her mouth dropped open. But Ella stirred in his arms and Holly reached to get her. Conversation over.

  “I think it’s time I get her to bed,” Holly whispered, looking flushed.

  Quinn turned, ready to leave, but then paused. “I never kissed you the way I wanted to because I knew that if I did I wouldn’t be able to stop. I wouldn’t be able to get enough of you. And if I had thought for one second that you meant what you said that night, I would have come after you,” he said. He turned, opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch, the damp night air cooling his hot skin. He took a deep breath and made a decision.

  He wasn’t going to lose Holly a second time.

  Chapter Seven

  “Holly?” Quinn’s voice boomed over the hammering and drilling outside the kitchen. Holly frantically wiped at the splattering of pureed blueberries that Ella had just chucked all over her.

  “In the kitchen,” Holly answered, hating how her heart kicked into high gear just knowing Quinn was approaching. It had been well over a week since that night after the flea market, and she was still upset by the way they’d left things. When he’d said—in that deep, delicious voice—that the reason he’d never kissed her the way he wanted to was because he didn’t think he’d be able to stop, she knew that if she hadn’t been holding Ella, she would have walked straight into his arms and spent the rest of the night with him. And who knows what the repercussions of sleeping with him would have been. So she’d said good-bye and watched him leave. And then avoided him for over a week. It had been easy to do, since it seemed like he’d been avoiding her as well.

  Alone in bed that night, she had entertained the idea of working as an interior designer for him. In a perfect world, it was the ideal solution. She would be able to keep her career, spend more time with Ella, live in this beautiful house in Red River surrounded by people she cared about…and Quinn. But the idea of that was terrifying. Because when it vanished…or when someone disappeared from her life, she’d have to deal with loss again. And she was done with that. Colleagues at work all had their own lives. She passed people on the street every day on her way to work, she sat beside strangers on the subway, rode the elevator with familiar faces, and, through it all, she was able to guard herself. That was the way she wante
d it. Here…everyone knew everyone. And people cared about each other. The longer she stayed in Red River, the more time she spent with Quinn, the harder it became to think about leaving.

  “What happened to you?”

  Holly jerked her head up and a rush of heat infused her body as Quinn stood there, looking about as perfect as could be, grinning down at her obviously undignified state.

  Ella squealed and banged her hands on the dirty tray in front of her. Quinn laughed and walked over. “How’s my girl?” he asked, leaning down to give Ella a kiss on the top of her head. Holly stared at the exchange for a moment, frozen by the emotion that caught her by surprise, and then busied herself with cleaning Ella’s mess.

  “She’s a bit grumpy. Barely slept last night,” Holly said, trying to sound natural. Being so close to Quinn made her realize how much she hated being away from him.

  “Yeah, you don’t look so good. Can I take her out of this thing?” Quinn asked as Ella extended her arms. Holly quickly smoothed her hair back from her face at his remark and then cursed herself for caring.

  “Of course,” Holly nodded, glancing down at her shirt. The blueberries were everywhere. Even if she crossed her arms, she would still look disgusting.

  “Is she okay?” Quinn asked, smoothing Ella’s fluffy hair off her forehead.

  “I think so. I’m pretty sure she’s getting a tooth,” Holly said, softening her tone a bit as Ella smiled at Quinn.

  “Oh, well, if you need anything during the night, you can call me,” he said, his voice low and husky. Holly opened her mouth to answer, but then shut it again. “Did the window guys finish yet?” he asked.

 

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