by Pamela Bauer
“Cool! I’ve never seen a Ferrari with a back seat. I bet it’s really neat to ride in!” Jeremy’s eyes were wide.
“It’s pretty cool,” Quinn said with an amused grin.
Finally Kevin spoke up. “Hey—we’re supposed to be going to get ice cream,” he reminded Quinn, tugging on his arm.
“You boys want to come along?” Quinn asked. “I think there just might be room in the back for two more.”
Dena interrupted their jubilation. “What about Sara? Isn’t she going?” she asked as the four of them headed for the door.
It was Kevin who answered. “She’s being bull-headed.”
Zach said, “She doesn’t want to ride in a Ferrari?” The rolling of his eyes revealed how dumb he thought that was.
Dena looked at Quinn, who gave her a helpless shrug. “I think she’s doing homework. I’ll bring her back something,” he assured her.
Dena nodded, then watched as the boys rushed outside, marveling at the change that had come over Kevin since he’d come to stay with Quinn. In a very short time Quinn had gone from being an acquaintance of his father to someone he trusted and looked to for guidance.
Dena walked over to the window and saw the boys run ahead to gape at the Ferrari in awe. Again she was aware of how easy it was for Quinn to be around children. He let each of them take a turn sitting in the driver’s seat, before getting behind the wheel and driving away.
While they were gone Dena made herself a chef’s salad for dinner and sat down with a magazine. As she was eating, Sara came downstairs. She looked surprised to see Dena and nearly turned around and exited as quickly as she’d entered, but Dena stopped her.
“Come on in, Sara.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your dinner,” she said politely.
“You’re not interrupting.” She patted the table. “Come sit down. I want to ask you something.”
Sara hesitated before taking the chair next to her. Dena shoved the magazine in her direction. “Which of these two ads do you like better? This—” she pointed to a cartoon featuring a woman’s body separated from her feet “—or this?” She flipped the page to an ad featuring no people, only shoes.
“I like the second one better,” she answered.
She flipped several pages and said, “What do you think of this one?”
“It’s too bright. It almost hurts by eyes,” she said of the psychedelic patterns in the ad for a retail store.
Dena smiled. “I’m glad you said that, too, because my boss has been trying to get me to put more geometric patterns into my work, and I think for some people they’re okay, but there are a lot of us who find them hard on the eyes.”
She nodded. “Is that what you do at work? Draw ads?”
“Sometimes, but mainly I work on packages.” She took a sip of her iced tea, then asked, “Do you have art class in school?”
“Yes, but I hate it.”
Dena nodded in understanding. “Lots of people feel that way. Art is one of those things that seems to come naturally to some people and for others…well, it’s just a big source of frustration. That’s how I feel about sports.”
“You don’t like sports?”
“No, do you?”
She nodded. “I’m on the girls’ soccer team…or I was until I had to come here.”
Dena could see the unhappiness in her face and longed to reach out and touch her. She wanted to comfort her, to give her a reassuring hug and let her know that in time everything would work out. She wanted to tell her that she’d play soccer again and that she’d make new friends when she went to live with her aunt. But Sara sat so ramrod straight with that “don’t touch me” look on her face that Dena did nothing.
The sound of the door opening had both of them looking up. Within seconds, Quinn and the boys came bounding into the kitchen. He carried two ice-cream sundaes in paper cups with plastic covers over the top.
He set one down in front of Sara, the other in front of Dena. “Sweets for the sweet,” he announced.
Dena beamed a smile of gratitude. “Ooh…chocolate. My favorite. Thank you.”
Sara simply looked at hers with disdain while the boys paid no attention, gushing on about how cool it was to ride in the Ferrari. As usual, Kevin treated Quinn as if he’d known him all of his life. Even Zach and Jeremy looked more comfortable around him than Sara did. Dena’s heart ached for the girl.
She didn’t understand why Sara hadn’t softened toward him. He was trying so hard to be good to her. Dena looked at him and thought, how could anyone not love him?
It was at that moment she realized that was exactly what had happened to her. She’d fallen in love with him.
It was a sobering realization. When she’d started seeing him it was with the intention that he would be a passing fancy in her life. Her romantic relationships never lasted more than ninety days. There’d been no reason to think that Quinn, a professional athlete, would even make it that long. She’d thought she could keep her heart from getting involved, that they could have a relationship that allowed both of them the freedom they wanted.
Only now she hardly felt free. He’d made no promises, no commitments, and she’d agreed to do the same, yet she now felt almost trapped by her feelings. It was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to happen. And it was frightening. She needed some time alone to think about this. And she needed some distance from Quinn.
“I hate to break up the party, but I think it’s time Jeremy and Zach headed home,” she announced, interrupting the conversation the boys were having with Quinn.
The two older boys groaned.
Quinn glanced at the kitchen clock. “Dena’s right. It’s a school night.”
Reluctantly the boys said good-night. Quinn sent Kevin and Sara upstairs, telling them he’d be right up. Dena wanted to escape with the kids but knew Quinn had deliberately stayed behind to talk to her.
“How did you get Sara out of her room?” he asked when they were alone.
She shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. She came down on her own and I asked her to sit and talk to me.”
“Thanks. She’s still having a rough time of it. I think it helps to have a woman to talk to.” He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek.
“I really didn’t do anything,” she insisted, trying to ignore the sensations his touch created.
“Yes, you did. You were you.” He bent then and kissed her. “You’re a unique woman, Dena Bailey. The kids and I are lucky to have you.” Then he was gone.
Dena stood in the kitchen thinking about his words long after he had left. He hadn’t simply said, “I’m lucky to have you.” He’d said, “The kids and I are lucky to have you.”
He’d sounded like a parent.
Tonight he’d looked very little like the Quinn she’d started dating two months ago. He looked more like a family man. And that scared her just about as much as her feelings did.
CHAPTER TEN
“IS THIS LIKE old times or what?” Shane asked as he lifted a beer bottle in salute to the other three guys sitting in his family room. He’d invited Quinn, his brother Garret and Dave Duggan, an old high school friend, over to watch the Stanley Cup playoffs on TV.
“How many hockey games do you suppose we watched at your mom’s when we were kids?” Dave asked.
“Probably more than she cares to remember.” Quinn hoisted his bottle in acknowledgment, then took a long drink.
“With five men in the house she had no choice but to accept there was always going to be some sporting event on TV and someone was going to watch it,” Garret added.
“This was a great idea, Shane, getting us together to watch the game. It’s just too bad Quinn isn’t playing.” Dave used his beer bottle to point at the television.
“He should have been. Minnesota can skate with these guys. A couple more goals in critical games and we would have been there,” Shane boasted. “Sometimes you need the breaks to go your way.”
“Guess it wasn’t mean
t to be this year,” Quinn stated philosophically.
“Is it a big letdown when the hockey season ends every year?” Dave wanted to know.
Quinn shrugged. “You’re always disappointed when your team doesn’t make the playoffs, but you’re also tired. The consolation prize is that you get time off.”
“Considering everything that’s happened in the past few weeks, it’s probably a good thing your season ended when it did,” Garret noted.
“That’s true. I don’t know what I would have done with Sara and Kevin if I was on the road right now,” Quinn said.
“It’s not much longer until they go to live with their aunt, is it?” Shane asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Naw. It’s a good thing they’ve had school to keep them occupied. I don’t know very much about being a parent.”
“According to Mom, you make a great temporary dad,” Garret said.
“I hope so.”
“Hope nothing. You do.” Shane punched him playfully on the arm. “Take it from a real dad. I think Doug and Patsy were right in making you their legal guardian.”
“It’s a big responsibility for any man,” Garret said.
“I’ve had help from my mom and my sisters,” Quinn acknowledged.
“Aren’t you forgetting one other particular female?” Shane asked with a sly smile.
“What’s this? You’ve got yourself a woman, Quinn?” Dave asked.
“He sure does, thanks to our dear, sweet mom,” Shane teased.
“Oh, please,” Dave cried out in mock agony. “Tell me it isn’t true. The mighty Quinn doesn’t need a romance coach to find love?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Quinn drawled sarcastically. “No, I didn’t hire anyone to coach me in romance. I can find my own women.”
“Especially when they live right below you,” Shane quipped.
“You’re seeing one of mom’s tenants?” A look of apprehension crossed Garret’s face.
“Relax, little brother, it’s not Krystal,” Shane reassured him.
Garret’s smile of relief was a wide one. “So Dena Bailey’s caught your eye. I’m surprised I haven’t heard about that before now.”
“Yeah, I am, too, considering the amount of time you spend at Mom’s,” Shane stated.
“Guess that means your mother is discreet,” Dave pointed out.
“She has to be, in her business,” Garret said, then turned to Quinn. “So how serious are you about Dena?”
Dave held up a hand. “Whoa! Hold it right there. The ‘s’ word doesn’t exist when it comes to Quinn’s love life. He’s a professional hockey player, for crying out loud.”
“Living the vida loca and loving every minute of it, eh, Quinn?” Garret said with admiration.
Quinn took the good-natured teasing with a grin. “Hey—I’ve just been doing what Garret is doing…putting my love life on hold until I have the time it takes to dedicate to a relationship.”
Garret grinned and held up his hand for a high-five. “Duty first, women second.”
“Maybe for you, but you don’t have a bevy of good-looking babes following you around like you’re some kind of celebrity,” Dave added.
Quinn raised his eyebrows. “A bevy of babes?”
“That conjures up quite an image, doesn’t it?” Garret said with a grin.
“So just what is going on with you and Dena?” It was Shane who wouldn’t let him avoid answering the question about his love life.
Lately Quinn had found he was asking himself that very question. He wasn’t sure what was happening. However, he wasn’t about to admit to his friends that he was uncertain about his feelings. And even more uncertain about Dena’s.
“Hey, the game’s going to start. Turn up the sound,” Quinn ordered, shifting their attention away from his personal life and to the hockey game. It was much easier to talk about hockey than about Dena.
If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d seemed a little distant the last few times they’d been together, he would have said more about his relationship with her. But despite her assertions that the only reason she’d been a bit preoccupied lately was because of pressure at work, he couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t giving him a sign that things were cooling down between them.
When they’d started dating she’d told him that she’d never dated a guy longer than ninety days. He hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but now as that three-month mark drew closer, he was wondering if he wasn’t about to suffer the fate of the other men she’d dated.
He hoped not. He didn’t want to think about breaking up with her and seeing other women. She’d gotten under his skin but good.
At first he thought it was because she presented a challenge to him. She hadn’t wanted to date him, and that, combined with her attitude toward his occupation, was enough to put any red-blooded man in the pursuit mode. Then they’d had that incredible physical attraction that had been impossible to ignore. Not even the presence of two kids had been able to dampen the desire between them.
Now he knew it was much more than physical. He just liked being with her. She was a good listener, she had a great sense of humor, she was smart—
“That was a horrible call, don’t you think, Quinn?”
His attention was drawn back to the game and to reminiscing with his three friends over talk of hockey. They ate pizza and drank beer, cheered when a goal was scored and booed when they disagreed with the penalty calls.
“So what do you think? Is Minnesota going to be in the finals next year?” Dave asked during one of the commercial breaks.
“They’ve got a good shot at it if everyone stays healthy,” Quinn told him.
“If they are, you can bet we’ll be sitting there at the Excel Center cheering you on,” Shane told him with a pat on the back.
Dave lifted his beer. “Here’s to next season.”
Quinn clinked his bottle with theirs, but he wasn’t sure there would be another season for him. Ever since Doug and Patsy’s deaths, he’d been doing a lot of thinking. Mainly about Doug.
His life may have been cut short, but he’d lived it with a purpose. He was a generous man who had worked hard, opening his restaurant on holidays for free meals to those who had no place to go. He’d taken a different path than Quinn, living a life full of meaning and leaving behind a legacy that would never be forgotten.
After the funeral was over and Doug had been eulogized, Quinn had sat in the church alone, contemplating what would be said about him if he were to die that very day. That he could keep the best of them from scoring? That he never made an All-Star game, but he was a star player?
Becoming a professional hockey player had been his goal for as long as he could remember. He’d fallen in love with the game the first time his dad had laced up a pair of skates on his feet and put a stick in his hand. A day hadn’t gone by when he hadn’t thought about playing. Yet now as he sat watching the Stanley Cup playoffs and hearing his friends extol his skills, he wondered if he’d even be playing hockey next season.
At thirty-one he wasn’t exactly over the hill, but he wasn’t one of the young and upcoming stars anymore, either. Retirement was a word most players avoided saying, yet it had been echoing in his head the past few weeks. He hadn’t voiced any of his thoughts aloud, hoping that if he didn’t speak them they would disappear.
Only they hadn’t. Now he found himself thinking more and more about the future and what it would bring. A few weeks ago he thought he’d be returning to the Cougars in the fall. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Listening to Shane, Garret and Dave speculate on his role in the Cougars’ next season made him feel a bit deceptive, so he said, “I might not be a Cougar much longer.”
“They wouldn’t trade you after the season you had!” Dave stated with indignation.
“Dave’s right. They brought you here because they needed a good defenseman,” Shane seconded. “Besides, the fans love you.”
They proceeded to rattle off statis
tics and talk about specific plays he’d made during the past season. Their voices were filled with such obvious pride he didn’t have the heart to tell them it wasn’t a trade that might make him turn in his jersey, but retirement.
Dave clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s really good to have you back, Quinn. The future’s looking damn good for Minnesota hockey.”
“And for you,” Garret added, cocking his beer bottle in his direction.
Quinn wished he could feel as confident.
DENA ARRIVED HOME one evening to find Quinn outside washing his SUV. Kevin was helping him, but Sara was nowhere in sight.
“Hi, stranger. I haven’t seen you much lately,” he said when she’d climbed out of her car.
“I’ve been putting in really long hours at work,” she told him, wishing her heart still didn’t race every time she saw him. He wore a pair of cutoff jeans and a faded blue T-shirt.
He let his sponge drop into the bucket of sudsy water at his feet and came closer to her. In a low voice meant only for her ears, he said, “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
“What else would it be?” she asked, knowing perfectly well that she’d been avoiding him. She’d had to—she’d fallen into the trap of thinking about him more than about her work, and that was just crazy. Her career was number one in her life. It was the one constant she could count on.
“I’ve called and left you messages.” His eyes pinned hers.
“I know.” She rubbed a hand across the back of her neck where the muscles were tight from stress. “It’s been really crazy at work.”
“You’re talking to someone who’s had a whole season of craziness,” he said with an understanding smile. Blue eyes scrutinized her. “You look tired.”
“I’m working on an important project,” she told him.
“And spending too many hours in front of the computer. That’s why you’re tense. It’s hard on the neck muscles,” he said, concern darkening his eyes.
The sound of a screen door slamming had Quinn looking past her to the house. “Where are you going?” he called out.
