"I think you're doing the right thing."
Keely froze. "Do you?"
"You should know your father and brothers."
"I'm glad you feel that way, because I've made a decision. I think I'm going to go to Boston. Not for a weekend, but maybe for a month or two. I want to get to know them all first before I tell them. That way, they'll get to like me before they know who I really am."
Her mother gasped. "But you can't leave the business for such a long time. We have jobs and clients."
"I'll still do the designs. I'll just put together more explicit instructions for decorating. Both Janelle and Kim are willing to put in some extra time-I've already asked them. And they're both anxious to prove themselves. They'll have some nice photos to put in their portfolios when they start their own cake-decorating businesses. I've also offered them both a raise and authorized hiring another kitchen assistant if they need one."
"Can we afford that?"
"I can afford it," Keely said. "The business is doing well. And you'll be here to watch over things. Besides, I'm not going to leave for another month or so." She paused. "You could always come to Boston with me."
Fiona shook her head. "No. That wouldn't be possible."
Keely set the pastry bag down. "Ma, you're going to have to see your sons sometime. After they find out about me, they're probably going to want to see you."
"They didn't want to see me before, why would they change their minds now? Not one of my sons has ever tried to find me. They probably all hate me."
"You don't know that. You have no idea how they feel. And maybe they have tried to find you. Or maybe Seamus discouraged them. But I think you need to make the effort. After all, you're the one who left them."
"What if they refuse to speak to me? I'm not sure I could bear that."
"What do you have to lose?"
Fiona thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "All these years, I've tried so hard to believe that they were all right. It would be nice to know for sure."
Keely circled the worktable and stood in front of her mother. She grabbed Fiona's hands and gave them a squeeze. "I know this is difficult for you, but I also know that everything will be all right. Going to Ireland was a good thing."
Fiona nodded, then pulled Keely into her embrace. "You're a sweet girl, Keely McClain." She pulled back and took Keely's face between her hands. "Keely Quinn. You've always been a sweet girl-a little bit headstrong and reckless at times-but when your father and brothers meet you, they'll recognize what a treasure you are and they'll learn to love you as much as I do." Fiona kissed her cheek, then hurried out of the kitchen.
"Sure, I'm a good girl," Keely said. She sighed softly, then shook her head. In truth, she had no idea who she was anymore. She wanted to believe she had control over her behavior, but her encounter with Rafe had proved that wrong. He could simply look at her and she got all crazy for him, wild fantasies racing through her mind.
She stared down at the cake. Was the cake really an apology, or just another invitation to sin? After all, didn't she hope that he'd get the cake, pick up the phone and call her? Keely couldn't deny that she'd like to repeat her night with Rafe Kendrick. But now was not the time to fall into some crazy love affair. It would only distract her and she had more important things to do.
She picked up the cake board and carried it over to the trash bin, then tossed it inside. It was a bad idea and a bad design. She had enough emotional upheaval to look forward to in the next months without throwing herself into the path of a devilishly handsome but ultimately dangerous man.
Maybe when she finally figured out who she was, she might allow herself to fall in love. But not until then.
CHAPTER FIVE
"RUM AND COKE, two drafts and a-a-" Keely looked down at her notepad. "A pina colada?"
Seamus chuckled and wagged his finger at her. "We don't make fruity drinks here," he said. "They're just givin' you the business because you're new, lass. Who wanted the pina colada?"
Keely turned and pointed to a burly, bearded man sitting in a booth, wearing a motorcycle jacket and red bandanna. "I think his name is Art."
"Art's a good Irish lad. He drinks nothing but Guinness. And when it's Christmas Eve and the Guinness is free, he drinks a lot." Seamus drew a pint and set it on her tray. "You tell him this is a pina colada. And if he's looking for a fruit garnish, he can look in the mirror." Seamus chuckled at his own joke as he filled the rest of her order.
Meanwhile, Keely slipped off her shoes and stretched her toes. She was not cut out to be a waitress, much less a waitress who slung drinks in an Irish pub. It wasn't difficult to remember the orders-nearly every patron preferred Guinness. But avoiding the wandering hands of customers, the slippery puddles of beer on the floor and the blinding clouds of cigarette smoke took the athletic ability of an Olympian.
She'd noticed the Help Wanted sign when she'd paid another visit to Quinn's in November and decided if the job was still available when she returned in December, she'd take it. She'd been a waitress at Quinn's for a week now, and here she was spending Christmas Eve with the Quinns-her family. It had been a perfect plan.
And she wasn't such a bad waitress. So far, she hadn't made too many major mistakes-beyond dumping an entire tray of drinks on herself the first night. And then there had been the second night, which had been capped with a practical joke from Liam. He had secretly pasted a sign on her back with the words Pinch Me printed in big letters. She'd gone home so jumpy she hadn't been able to sleep. By the third night, she'd gotten wise to their tricks. It had only taken her two hours to realize the customers wiping drops of beer off her face actually had black marker on their fingertips. But the tricks made her feel even more a part of the family.
As soon as her tray was filled, she hustled over to the booth and delivered the drinks. Ed, a good-natured regular at Quinn's Pub, handed her a ten for the round and told her to keep the change-a three-dollar tip with the free Guinness. Keely quickly checked in with the rest of her tables, then took a spot at the end of the bar where Liam had poured her a diet soda.
As she sipped at the cold drink, her mind wandered to where it had so many times over the past week-Rafe. It felt odd to be in the same city as him, yet not know where he was or what he was doing. She'd thought about contacting him but had always come up with an excuse not to-the holidays, her job at Quinns, her confusion over what they'd shared. And the realization that if she saw him again, she'd probably fall victim to his charms once more.
Though just the thought of sex with Rafe Kendrick caused her pulse to quicken and her toes to curl, there were more important things on her agenda than wildly passionate intercourse and earth-shattering orgasms. Still, she couldn't help but look up each time another patron entered the bar, wondering if it might be Rafe…and wondering what she'd do if it was.
Keely turned her mind to more somber thoughts. Though the pub was filled with Christmas cheer-colored lights, a dancing Santa, and holiday music-she couldn't help but think of her mother, home alone. To make up for her first Christmas away, Keely had treated Fiona to a nightly phone call with little tidbits of news about the Quinn brothers. In her heart, Keely hoped that next Christmas all the Quinns could celebrate under one roof.
She'd come as close as she could this Christmas. Sean and Liam had been working the bar since early afternoon, doing double duty ladling out free bowls of Irish stew and drawing free pints of Guinness. Conor had arrived at three with his new wife, Olivia, and moments after that, Dylan had burst in with his fiancee, Meggie, and her brother, Tommy. Now they all waited for Brendan's arrival, though no one was sure that he'd put in an appearance.
Keely was anxious to meet the last of her brothers. She already knew Dylan was a fireman and Meggie owned a coffee shop. And Conor and Olivia had been married on Thanksgiving weekend. Brendan was a writer and Seamus kept copies of his books behind the bar. And just last night, everyone in the bar had gathered around the television as Brian did his first on-air segment in
his capacity as a reporter for one of the Boston television stations.
As for Liam and Sean, they worked when they could, Sean as a private investigator and Liam as a freelance photographer for the Boston Globe. The three youngest brothers were still unabashed bachelors and from what she could glean from the pub's female patrons, they didn't lack for feminine companionship. They had quite a reputation with the opposite sex, so Keely kept her distance, unwilling to explain why she was single, but unavailable.
Keely took another sip of her soda then let her gaze wander from one brother to another. This would be the perfect night to tell them. Once they were all here, she could make her announcement and hope that the holiday spirit would carry her through. And what better Christmas present than to find a little sister under their tree?
"And there's the man of the hour! Come on, Bren, we've been waiting for you!"
Keely spun around on her stool as Dylan shouted, her heart leaping in anticipation. There he was! Brendan Quinn. The last of her six brothers stood in the doorway with a pretty woman on his arm. He took the woman's hand and drew her over to the group gathered at the bar. Keely kept her gaze on her newest brother, anxious to learn more about him, to gather information to tell her mother when they spoke later that night.
The big news came almost immediately when Brendan introduced his companion, Amy, as his fiancee. As good wishes were given all around, Keely's heart twisted. Another family moment she'd never share. And another reason not to come forward with her own news. It wouldn't be fair to steal Brendan and Amy's thunder.
Keely looked over at Seamus and noticed he was the only one not celebrating. He sat on a bar stool a few feet from Keely, sipping at a small glass of Guinness. Brendan walked over and slipped his arm around Seamus's shoulders. "Well, Da. What do you think?"
Seamus shook his head. "Ah, geez. Not another one. Have I taught you boys nothing? Our Quinn ancestors are rolling over in their graves, they are."
Suddenly, the night which had begun with such anticipation turned into a vivid reminder of the fact that she was not a part of the Quinn family. They all shared a camaraderie that she might never know, an ease that came with having a history together. Keely's attention turned to the three women in the group-Olivia, Meggie and Amy. They'd come into the family as strangers, but they'd been accepted. Could she hope for the same?
"Keely!" Seamus called. "You've got some folks out there with empty glasses. Step lively, girl."
Keely grabbed her tray and hurried over to the row of booths on the far side of the bar. Over the next few minutes, she didn't have time to think about her family until Conor asked her to deliver a bottle of champagne to Brendan and Amy. As Keely approached the newly engaged pair, she smiled at her brother and his fiancee, making sure she didn't stare too hard. Brendan was as handsome as the other five Quinns with his dark hair and his golden-green eyes.
"Conor sent this over," she murmured. She set the champagne flutes on the pool table and handed Brendan the bottle. "Congratulations. I hope you two will be very happy."
"Thank you," Brendan said, sending her a warm smile.
Keely nodded then hurried away. But she stopped halfway back to the bar when Seamus pointed impatiently to a new patron at one of the booths. She fumbled with her pad and pencil and when she finally looked up, ready to take the order, her heart came to a dead stop. "Rafe."
He was just as stunned to see her. "Keely. What are you doing here? And why are you carrying a tray?"
Keely's heart fell. How was she supposed to explain this? She'd never expected Rafe to return to Quinn's, especially after their last encounter. "I-I took a job as a waitress." She tried to remember what she'd told him about her work. She decorated cakes and she owned a bakery. Why would she sell her business, move to Boston and take a job in a pub? "I-I-"
"I thought you lived in Brooklyn and worked in your family's bakery."
"I did," Keely said, relieved. "But I quit and decided to move here. You know, I needed to get out on my own. I've been trying to find a job in a bakery, decorating cakes, but it's been tough. So I took this job."
Rafe didn't seem to be buying her story. "Why Boston?"
"Why not?" She paused. "Oh, I didn't come here for you if that's what you're worried about."
He smiled. "I'm not. After our last meeting, I've been avoiding this place. But I guess I didn't expect to find you here on Christmas Eve."
"Can I get you a drink? What would you like? We have free Guinness and free Irish stew."
"Scotch on the rocks," Rafe said. "The best you've got."
As she walked over to the bar, Keely tried to calm her racing pulse. She'd thought about him so many times since the last time she'd seen him. But each time she'd stubbornly put those fantasies out of her head, determined to focus on her new family. But now that he was here, Keely couldn't help but be pleased. He was really the only person she knew in Boston. And he didn't seem angry at her anymore. In truth, he was acting almost pleasant. "Holiday spirit," Keely murmured.
When she returned, she placed his drink in front of him. "Can you sit down for a while?" Rafe asked.
Keely glanced around the bar. "I really shouldn't. We're getting pretty busy."
"What time do you get off?"
"The pub closes at five."
Rafe nodded. "I suppose you'll be heading back to New York to spend the holidays with your family."
"No, I'm spending Christmas here. Alone. Just me, a cup of hot cocoa and a good book."
"No," Rafe said. "You're coming out with me. I'll treat you to dinner. As an apology for my behavior the last time we met."
"If that's the offer, then we should probably go dutch. I was as much to blame as you were. But you must have plans with your family."
"No plans."
Keely considered his invitation for a moment or two, then nodded. "All right. I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."
As she went back to work, Keely couldn't keep herself from smiling. Though she'd tried to ignore her attraction to Rafe, seeing him again had only proved how fruitless that effort had been. Maybe it was only a physical thing, but what was wrong with that? There was something to be said for really great sex.
And if, by some chance, it led to something more, then she'd deal with that when it came. Right now, she had plans for Christmas Eve and that was enough.
RAFE SLOWLY SIPPED his Scotch, his gaze fixed on Keely as she moved around the bar from table to table. Every now and then, she'd look over at him and smile and he found himself lost in idle contemplation of her beauty.
In this atmosphere of rather overblown feminine pulchritude-of big hair and red lips and artificially enhanced bosoms-she stood out as something special. She wore very little makeup and her hair was cut short in a tousled style that made it appear as if she'd just crawled out of bed. Rafe couldn't quite figure out her clothes. They were fashionable with a funky edge, causing a few raised eyebrows in the rather conservative atmosphere of the pub.
Tonight, she wore a lime-green sweater and a little black skirt that gave every man in the place a tempting view of her legs. Knee-high boots made the look even sexier. God, he loved black boots, Rafe mused.
A loud shout from the bar drew his attention to Seamus Quinn, and Rafe's mood immediately darkened. Everything was in place. The day after Christmas, Seamus was going to learn that his mortgage on the pub had been sold. A building inspector would visit the day after that and discover the pipes and heating system in the place were covered with asbestos. Quinn's Pub would need to be closed down until the removal was completed. And the day after that, a fisherman who'd been on board the Mighty Quinn the day Sam Kendrick died would go to the police with a story of murder on the North Atlantic.
Ken Yaeger had told the story many years ago. He'd visited Rafe's mother shortly after the funeral and told her how her husband had really died. Rafe had heard the tale from his mother in disjointed pieces, always with Seamus Quinn painted as the villain. Over time, Rafe had managed to fig
ure out the truth of the story. And when he found Yaeger a few months ago, that story was confirmed. Seamus Quinn was responsible for Sam Kendrick's death. He'd gotten away with murder.
If all went as planned, by the start of the New Year, Seamus Quinn would be sitting in jail and there'd be nothing any of the Quinn boys would be able to do to rescue their father from justice. Rafe leaned back and took another sip of his drink. His only regret was that Keely would lose her job. But then, she didn't belong in a place like this. He'd have to find a way to make it up to her, beyond a Christmas Eve dinner.
By the time Rafe finished his Scotch, Seamus had made last call. Keely hurried from table to table to settle tabs, and when she finished, she tossed her apron behind the bar and met him at the door. When they got outside, she looped her arm through his as they walked to Rafe's car.
"Tired?" he asked.
"I've only been working since noon. A five-hour shift isn't so bad."
"How do you like your new job?"
"It's nice. A little hard on the feet. And when I leave, I smell like cigarette smoke and stale beer. But the customers are nice. Very Irish."
"And the people you work for?" Rafe probed.
"I don't know them very well," Keely said offhandedly. "But I like them so far. Where are we going?"
"I have one stop to make before we get dinner. I have to deliver a Christmas gift. But I should only be a few minutes."
They spent the rest of the drive chatting, Rafe hardly able to keep his eyes on the road with Keely in the car. He wasn't the kind of guy to believe in fate, but something had brought him to Quinn's that night. He had to believe he was meant to satisfy this craving he'd had for Keely over the past few months.
Now that he knew what she expected, he wasn't going to make the same mistakes twice. She wanted a physical relationship, wild and uninhibited, with no strings attached. Any expectations for a relationship beyond pure pleasure were to be checked at the bedroom door. Hell, that's all he'd ever really wanted from the opposite sex and now he'd found the perfect woman to provide it.
Reunited Page 9
