“I hope we can find somewhere that can handle this big a crowd,” Molly said, frowning.
“That’s not a problem,” Elias assured her. “I’ll call Marge and tell her we’ll need her back room. She keeps it for meetings and such. We’ll call ourselves the Welcoming Committee for Molly and Sara.”
“But I’ve been here for almost a year,” Molly protested with a laugh.
“Better late than never,” Elias said with a grin and asked to borrow her phone.
While he was calling, she thanked her friends again for their support. “I’m so glad Sara and I came here. I’ve never felt so much at home in my life.”
Their laughing responses only reinforced those feelings. When a knock sounded on the door, everyone grew silent. With a frown, Molly hurried to the door. Who could it be? Her friends were all there.
Along with a puff of cold air, Quinn entered the house as soon as she opened the door.
“Quinn!” she exclaimed. Then, before closing the door, she peeked out, wondering what had happened to Clarisse. “Um, where’s your— I mean, Clarisse?”
“She’s on her flight back to Chicago. I thought the reception ended at three,” he said, staring at the crowd of people.
They all stared back him, but they didn’t respond.
“These are friends who— We’ve been visiting.”
“And we’re all going over to Marge’s for dinner,” Brady added. “We didn’t think Molly should be cooking after all the work she put into the reception.”
Molly didn’t think Quinn looked too pleased about Brady’s explanation, but he immediately invited himself to join them. No one really waited for Molly’s approval. It was assumed she would agree.
And they were right. She couldn’t say no. But she stepped away from Quinn. Eden or Kaitlin or…someone could keep Quinn company.
“I’ll go get the kids and our coats,” she said, turning to the stairs, hoping to escape.
“I’ll help you,” Quinn said, reaching her side before she could protest.
“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll only be—”
“I didn’t get to see much of Sara today,” he said, taking her arm and pulling her along as he started up the stairs.
When they reached the staircase to the third floor and she knew no one could hear or see them, she jerked her arm from his hold. “What are you doing? Why did you come back?”
“I owe you an apology.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. I shouldn’t have brought Clarisse. She wasn’t nice to you, and you had enough to deal with without her complicating things.”
“There’s no need to apologize. She clearly felt threatened, probably because your father was being nice to me. She didn’t realize it was my muffins that he was interested in.”
“I don’t belong to Clarisse. She’s a friend, nothing more.”
“Just friends” was such a trite answer and it meant absolutely nothing. She couldn’t resist challenging him. “Oh, so you and Clarisse have never been anything but friends?”
It amused, and saddened her, to see his cheeks turn red. She wasn’t an idiot. She’d seen how her husband Christopher had operated.
“At one time we— She means nothing to me now.”
“And yet you invited her today.” She’d reached the third floor. “Sara? Jeremy?”
Before Quinn could say anything else, the two four-year-olds popped out of Sara’s room.
“What is it, Mommy?”
“We’re going out to eat, so you need to get your coat. Jeremy, is yours downstairs?”
“Is Jeremy going, too?” Sara asked, excitement on her face.
“Yes, he and his parents are joining us.”
“Whoopee,” Sara cheered.
“Hey, what about me?” Quinn asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Aren’t you excited that I’m coming, too?”
“Mr. Spencer! I didn’t know you were here!” Sara ran forward and wrapped her arms around his legs.
He swung her up into his arms and kissed her cheek. “Sure I’m here. I came back to see if you and your mom were exhausted, but you look in pretty good shape, little Sara.”
“And Mommy, too,” Sara prompted him. “We wore our new dresses,” she reminded him, patting the skirt of her green dress.
“I know, and you both looked extra-special,” Quinn assured her, but his gaze traveled to Molly.
It upset her that his words could mean anything. What was he going to say, that she looked frumpy next to Clarisse? “Let’s hurry. I’m hungry. Sara, get your coat and I’ll get mine.”
She hurried into her room, across the hall from Sara’s room, glad to escape Quinn’s presence.
When she turned back to the door, coat in hand, she discovered she hadn’t escaped at all. Quinn stood in the doorway, looking at her room.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanted to see what your room looked like,” he said with a shrug, as if invading her space was perfectly acceptable.
Every protest she could think of would make her sound small-town, provincial. She swallowed her nerves and moved toward him, forcing him into the hallway. Then she pulled the door closed, hoping it would emphasize her privacy.
When they got downstairs, Elias had returned from the phone, announcing Marge was delighted to open her back room. Marge’s Diner had long been a favorite in Tyler.
“Well, hello, Quinn,” he said as Quinn followed Molly and the two children down the stairs. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Yeah. I’m joining the crowd.”
Pam and Patrick asked if Sara could ride with them and Jeremy. Molly didn’t have a problem with the offer, except that it left her without Sara as a chaperon. While Quinn talked to his father, she stepped to Kaitlin’s side. “May I ride with you?”
“Sure. Eden and I are going to ride together, but there’s plenty of room. Quinn isn’t—?”
“No. Ready to go?”
“Sure. But don’t you have to lock up after everyone’s out?”
Molly chewed her bottom lip. She’d been in such a hurry to escape Quinn, she’d forgotten about that. “Yes. Help me urge everyone out.”
She tried to keep her distance from Quinn even as she nudged everyone to leave. But he stubbornly waited by the door. When she, Kaitlin and Eden went through the door and she waited for him to follow, he stepped through and immediately said, “I’ll drive you to Marge’s.”
“No, thank you, I already have a ride,” she told him without looking at him.
He didn’t hesitate to show his displeasure. “With whom?” he demanded.
“Kaitlin and Eden. You’re going to give me a bruise!” she protested as his grasp had tightened.
QUINN WAS STUNNED that he’d lost control so quickly. But the thought that another man might’ve cut him out chased his common sense away. He immediately released her.
Before he could gather himself, she’d locked the door and hurried down the steps after Kaitlin and Eden.
“Say, Kaitlin, mind if I catch a ride? There’s no reason to take so many cars, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Kaitlin agreed with a good-natured smile.
In spite of Molly’s rush, Quinn caught up with her and maneuvered her into the back seat with him. He’d realized he wouldn’t be sitting next to Molly at dinner if he didn’t arrive with her. It was clear she wasn’t in a friendly mood. She must be more upset about Clarisse than she’d said.
Which could be a good thing.
If he were interested, of course. As it was, he was just interested in her reactions because she was a client.
Right.
When they reached Marge’s, he discovered Brady had saved four seats at the end of the table and waved to them as they came in. “Here you go!”
The next hour wasn’t what Quinn had had in mind when he’d returned to Molly’s house. The conversation was general, discussing the reception, leaving no opportunity to really talk to Molly.
“What did you tell Clarisse she was doing?” Brady finally asked. “She looked like she was attending the Oscars, exposing as much skin as possible. Tyler will be gossiping about her for years.”
All eyes turned on Quinn. “I told her we were going to a reception. I had no idea she’d think it was a cocktail party.”
“She looked very sophisticated,” Molly said calmly. “Chicago society is different from Tyler.”
“And I know which I prefer,” Elias said.
It struck Quinn that he did, too. If a stranger asked anyone in Tyler, they’d say Quinn liked a more exciting life than Tyler offered. He’d worked to build that reputation.
But he was finding it harder and harder to dig up enthusiasm for his travels.
Seth laughed. “We can’t all be jet-setters like my little brother, Dad. Especially not when babies enter the picture.”
Quinn exchanged a look with Brady. They’d discussed their brother’s marriage. It wasn’t that they didn’t like Jenna. They did. But she was a city woman, like their mother had been. They weren’t sure she would stay, and they didn’t want their brother hurt, as they and their father had been.
As if to mock his thoughts, Jenna laid her head on Seth’s shoulder and a dreamy smile played about her lips. Her husband leaned over and kissed her.
“Break it up, you two,” Brady warned, “or we’ll pelt you with the chocolate pie.”
“I can’t believe you ordered pie,” Kaitlin exclaimed, changing the focus of the conversation. “Where does it all go? Every time I saw you at the reception, you were stuffing your face.”
“Hey, I wanted Molly to think everyone appreciated her cooking,” he said with a big grin. “Think how hurt she’d have been if no one ate anything.”
Jenna laughed. “I don’t think that was a problem. I couldn’t believe how fast the food disappeared. And she’d cooked tons. Molly, did you get any nibbles for bakery products?”
“Yes, Jenna, quite a few. Your sign was terrific.”
“I still think you’re trying to do too much,” Quinn muttered.
Molly lifted her chin. “And it would be your business because…?”
She smiled, but Quinn didn’t think anyone was fooled. She wasn’t happy with him.
“Whoa!” Elias exclaimed, a big grin on his face. “Son, I think you’ve met a lady who isn’t impressed with your reputation. Good for you, Molly.”
Several other people teased both Molly and Quinn. He pretended to be amused, but inside he was seething. What was the matter with her? He was only trying to be helpful. And he’d already apologized for Clarisse.
When Molly, a few minutes later, asked for the check so she could get Sara home and tucked in bed, Elias told everyone he’d made arrangements with Marge to pay for the celebration. “After all, I’m the patriarch here. And, Molly, don’t you dare protest.”
Quinn decided he needed to learn to control things like his father. And he also needed to do a little investigating about his father and Lydia Perry. He didn’t have any objections. In fact, his father had suffered longer than he should have because of his wife’s desertion.
But he had some other probing to do this evening.
MOLLY GATHERED A SLEEPY SARA close as she rode in the back seat of Kaitlin’s car to her house. As she got out, she thanked Kaitlin for the ride, told Eden and Quinn good-night and hurried up the steps to her porch.
As she inserted the key in the lock, putting Sara down momentarily, Quinn swung the child into his arms. “I’ll carry her up.”
She hadn’t even realized until that moment that Quinn hadn’t accepted her dismissal. “No! No, that’s not necessary. You’re not that sleepy, are you, sweetie?”
She should’ve known better. That turncoat Sara smiled sleepily and said, “I like for Mr. Spencer to carry me.”
Molly ducked her head and led the way into the house without protest. It wouldn’t do any good.
After they’d reached Sara’s bedroom, Molly asked Quinn to excuse them while Sara put on her nightgown. After tucking her daughter in, she emerged from Sara’s room, her fingers crossed that Quinn had left.
Instead, he was leaning against the wall and asked if he could tell Sara good-night. When he came out, she led the way down the stairs in double time, trying to keep her distance.
As they reached the entryway, he said, “I don’t suppose I could get you to offer coffee? It’s cold out there.”
Rigid, she kept her gaze on the floor. “I’m afraid I’m too tired tonight.”
“I figured,” he said softly.
Her head snapped up and she stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“It was a busy day,” he said.
She relaxed. Of course, that was all he meant. She’d overreacted.
“And you’re angry at me. But I don’t know why. I already apologized for Clarisse. What else did I do?”
“Nothing, Mr. Spencer. Thank you for calling. I’ll let you know if I need any more legal help.”
His hands shot out and grabbed her shoulders and he gave her a small shake. “Don’t give me that formal crap, Molly Blake. We’re not strangers.”
“You’re wrong. That’s all we are, and all we’ll ever be. So, good night, Mr. Spencer.”
She’d hoped her formality would have an effect on Quinn. And it did. Just not what she’d hoped for.
He pulled her against him and his mouth covered hers. But this kiss was no light touching of lips, no casual salute. Instead, his mouth urged her to open to him, to share an intimacy deeper than Molly had ever experienced.
She intended to resist. Of course she did. But the warmth, the wanting, the wonder of his kiss, ruled out common sense. It must’ve ruled out sanity, too, because her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed even closer than before.
When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, the only thing he said was her name before he reslanted his lips over hers and kissed her more deeply. Molly’s overcoat had been shed in Sara’s room when she was putting her daughter to bed, so his hands were free to roam her sweaterdress.
She felt his touch through the soft material and it stoked the fire that blazed in her, long hidden beneath the disgust she’d felt for her husband.
Her body clamoring for more, she didn’t even protest when his hand covered one breast and then the other through her dress. Lightning seemed to strike her and she moaned.
“Molly, Molly,” he whispered, before kissing her again. She couldn’t get enough of him.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he panted. But he didn’t finish those words. He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her for more than a word or two.
“Upstairs,” he urged, moving her toward the stairs as his hands began tugging her skirt up. The words put out the fire that had been raging through Molly.
Upstairs, where Sara was.
“No!” Molly protested, ripping herself out of his embrace.
A strange silence fell. Strange because Molly’s body was protesting the free fall from ecstasy, while her mind was protesting her loss of control.
“Sweetheart, what— We want each other. You can’t deny that,” he protested, his breathing shallow, his voice husky with desire.
“No, but the answer is still the same. Please leave.”
“Molly—”
Much to her shame, her eyes filled with tears. “Please!” She hated to plead, but she couldn’t take any more.
Her weakness, as she saw it, had more effect than anything else. He reached out and cupped her cheek, but she flinched. His hand fell to his side and he turned and walked out of her house, saying nothing else.
Molly stood with her head down for several minutes before she crossed to the front door and locked it. Then she sank down on the bottom stair and sobbed into her hands.
She’d almost forgotten the cruel lessons of the past. She’d almost risked her daughter’s happiness for—for incredible sex. She knew, without ever experiencing it, that Quinn’s lovemaking would be unbelievable
. He’d already stirred her more than her husband ever had. And all they’d done was kiss with their clothes on.
Only because she’d stopped him.
If she hadn’t come to her senses, in five minutes, she would’ve been lost. Then both she and Sara would suffer heartache and abandonment again. Only this time it would be worse because they’d want so much more.
How could she have forgotten so quickly?
And what was she going to do about it now? She was committed to Tyler, to her bed-and-breakfast, to building a safe, secure home for her little girl.
Could she hope Quinn would decide to return to his world-roaming days, his sophisticated women? Would he realize, as she did, that tonight had been a mistake?
She slowly rose and dragged herself up two flights of stairs to her solitary bedroom.
But her personal space didn’t offer the comfort it usually did. She couldn’t shut Quinn out. He’d already seen her room earlier in the evening. But now he was in her head, in her blood. She couldn’t forget his touch.
She couldn’t save herself from heartbreak.
But she could save Sara.
And that was what she had to do, no matter how much it hurt.
Chapter Twelve
Quinn rubbed his eyes and tried again to concentrate on the legal language in the contract he was supposed to approve for one of his clients.
Before he knew it, however, he was picturing Molly in the royal-blue sweaterdress that faithfully outlined her body. The body he’d caressed the night before.
“Quinn?” Amanda Trask, his partner, called as she rapped on his door. Before he could answer, she opened it and stepped inside. “Do you have—What’s the matter with you? Are you sick?”
“No! I’m fine.” He drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “What do you need?”
Instead of answering right away, Amanda stepped closer and stared at him. “Hmm, Clarisse must’ve been very demanding last night.”
“Probably, but not with me. She returned to Chicago on the five-o’clock flight.” Again he asked, “What do you need?”
Amanda sat on the corner of his desk. “Then who put those shadows under your eyes?”
Patchwork Family Page 12
