She wouldn’t have, if Jen and Delaney hadn’t pushed her. “I’ve never quit a job without giving notice, and I’m not going to start just because my…supervisor is a jerk.” She gave him a cool smile. “Besides, I need the money.”
QUINN WAITED for her to say more. What was Maddie up to? Why would she want to work, after what he’d said to her?
He had all night to figure it out.
“Fine. You should make good tips tonight.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam Talbott signaling for a beer. Quinn reached down and pulled a dripping longneck out of the bin. “We’re only serving wine and beer,” he said, wiping the bottle off, opening it and handing it to Sam. “That container’s domestic, the other imported. You can get the beer yourself. I’ll pour the wine. There’s more beer in the refrigerator out back, and there are trash cans around the room for the bottles. Let me know when they need to be emptied.”
“Right.” She tied the apron around her waist, then got to work. He stared after her until Paul waved his hand in front of Quinn’s face.
“Don’t suppose you have any cans of Guinness?”
“Nope.” Quinn rattled off the brands he had.
“Give me a Leinie, then.” Paul leaned on the counter. “I’m surprised to see Maddie here.”
Quinn twisted the cap of the Leinenkugel’s off with a little more force than necessary. “She works here.”
“I heard what you said to her the other night. Not one of your best moves, Murphy.”
“I was pissed off.”
“Sounded like it. Have you fixed it yet?”
“Fixed what?” Quinn gave his friend a hard stare.
Paul took a long swig of his beer. “You’re pathetic,” he finally said. “Have you even talked to her?”
Scowling, Quinn poured a glass of wine for Laura Taylor. “I’ve been busy.”
“Looks like she’s been busy, too.”
“What?” He set the bottle down with a thud and searched for her. She was talking to Augie. Smiling. She patted him on the shoulder and walked away.
Quinn caught a flash of leg and looked more closely.
She was wearing that damn skirt.
“Next time, I won’t wear any underwear.” He stared at her rear end.
“She does have a nice ass,” Paul said.
Quinn swung around on him. “Stay away from Maddie’s ass.”
“Hey, you can’t look after your toys, they get taken away.” Paul sauntered off, drinking his beer.
Smart-ass. But Maddie sure as hell was acting as if she had forgotten all about him.
She sidled between two men and bent to get two Leinies out of the bin. When she stood, her gaze met Quinn’s.
“What?” She bent to pull out two more beers.
“You know damn well what.” He jerked his chin at her skirt. “That.”
“What about it?”
“Why are you wearing it?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Because it’s comfortable. And I get more tips.”
“Damn it, Maddie, that’s not why you wore it.”
“Really? You can read my mind now?”
He clenched his jaw. “Don’t wear it to work again.”
“You didn’t have a problem with it the other night.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Too bad. I’ve decided I like wearing skirts.” She gave him a saucy smile. “They’re nice and breezy.”
She grabbed the four beers.
Breezy. He watched the swing of her hips as she walked away, and shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t need this tonight.
A few minutes later, Delaney leaned on the counter. “Have any soda back there, Quinn?”
“Yeah.” He tore his gaze away from Maddie. “What do you want?”
“Anything without caffeine,” Delaney said. “Any more, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
He slid a can of 7up across to her. “How’s that?”
“Good.” She popped the top and took a drink as she studied him. “You look all pissed off about something. I thought you’d be happy with everyone turning out for you.”
Quinn saw how her eyes were twinkling, and muttered, “Go to hell, Delaney.”
Laughing, she took another drink of her soda and left him.
Maddie was talking to Jen now. When Delaney joined them, all three women glanced at him. He heard Jen laugh.
He turned away, fuming. And aroused. Every time he looked at Maddie in that skirt, he got harder.
By the time the Harp South clientele began to thin out, he was aching for Maddie. She had ignored him, except when she had to ask for a glass of wine.
Someone at the back of the room signaled for a drink. As Maddie made her way toward the guy, the stereo system blared a country song about a cowboy who wanted to pick ticks off his girlfriend. Quinn wanted to throw something at the damn boom box. The last thing he needed to hear tonight was a song about some guy kissing his girlfriend in the moonlight.
Paul was the one who’d been signaling for a beer. Instead of returning for his drink, Maddie stood and chatted with him.
Quinn closed his fingers into a fist as Paul smiled at her. When Maddie smiled back, he turned away.
A few minutes later, she grabbed another beer out of the bin. Quinn couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Having a good time with the customers?”
She wiped the bottle with the cloth hanging from the counter. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Talk to people? Be friendly? No one likes a grumpy waitress.” She grinned. “Just like no one likes a grumpy bartender.”
When there were only a few customers left, Maddie started cleaning up. The citrus smell of her hair taunted him every time she got close. He remembered that smell from when he’d held her. From when they’d made love.
Finally, when only Paul was left in the diner, she hung up her apron. “You had a good night,” she said as she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Congratulations.”
“You sticking around?” he heard himself ask.
She looked at him. “Why would I do that, Quinn?”
“To help me celebrate, maybe?”
For a moment, he thought he saw a light in her eyes. Then, when he didn’t say anything more, the spark died. “I’m guessing you’ll manage to celebrate just fine on your own.”
As she disappeared through the door, he wanted to run out and call her back. He missed talking to her after the pub closed, missed watching her eyes when she laughed about something that had happened that night.
He missed looking at her legs in that skirt.
He couldn’t pretend he was calling her back about work—she’d done everything she was supposed to do and more. She’d carried empty bottles out to the recycling, helped set up the tables so the restaurant could open the next morning, and helped clean the kitchen. There was nothing left to do.
He wouldn’t ask her to stay just because he liked having her around. Hell, if he did, she’d probably punch him.
But she’d worn the skirt. Had it been a signal of some sort? Was she trying to tell him something?
“For someone who just sold a butt load of beer and wine, you don’t look very happy.”
“Paul.” Quinn narrowed his eyes as his friend slid onto a stool at the counter. “What are you still doing here?”
“I thought you could use some help, closing up the restaurant.”
“Thanks,” Quinn said, trying to smile. “But I think it’s covered.”
Paul reached over the counter and grabbed a beer. “So you didn’t ask Maddie to stick around.”
“No reason to. The work is done.”
Paul raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I could think of some reasons besides work.”
“Name one.”
“You have some groveling to do. You might as well get it over with.”
“Why would I grovel to Maddie?”
“Because you treated her badly and you have something going with her
, maybe?”
“That’s over.”
“Really? You sure about that?”
She had worn the skirt to work. “Did she say something to you? About me?”
“This isn’t high school, buddy. If you want to know what Maddie said to me, ask her yourself.”
“Why do you think it’s not over?” Quinn pressed.
“Maybe because, for some unknown reason, she seems to like your company. Me, I can’t see it, but who can tell with women?”
Quinn slumped against the wall. “Not anymore, she doesn’t.”
“That’s what happens when you tell a woman to get lost, in front of an audience.” Paul drank his beer before adding quietly, “She scared you, didn’t she?”
“You know my deal. I don’t do relationships.”
“Oh, that makes perfect sense. A woman falls into your life—a gorgeous, funny, smart woman—who seems to be crazy about you. You can’t keep your hands off her. Yeah, I’d tell her to get lost, too.”
His skull was beginning to pound. “Leave it alone, Paul.”
“The hell. Someone needs to pull your head out of your ass, and I’m electing myself. It’s time to move on, Quinn. Time to rejoin the world. And that includes having a normal, healthy relationship.”
“I’m not interested.” Quinn dumped the ice from one of the buckets into the sink. He’d just screw it up, anyway. Or hurt Maddie even more, which he wouldn’t be able to bear. “That’s why I got rid of Maddie.”
“You are friggin’ out of your mind, pal. Get your act together. Tell her you temporarily lost it. Get her back.”
“I don’t want Maddie.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Great. Then you won’t mind if I ask her out.” Paul popped off the stool. “I’ve had my eye on her since the first time I saw her.”
Quinn froze. “You go near her and I’ll take your head off,” he snarled at his friend.
“You can’t have it both ways.” Paul opened the door. “Make up your mind, Quinn.”
The bell on the door tinkled as it closed behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MADDIE SAT ON THE screened porch and nibbled at a sandwich. She’d hoped the scenery would distract her, but even the bright moon rising over the lake couldn’t take her mind off the evening. She shouldn’t have gone into work. She’d ended up tormenting herself far more than she’d upset Quinn.
A car turned into her driveway, and she tensed. There hadn’t been a repeat of the spray-painted vulgarity on the front porch, or the broken light, but no one came for a visit at this time of night.
A car door slammed, and she relaxed a little. Whoever was here wasn’t trying to be quiet. Setting her plate on the table, she got up and walked to the entryway.
Quinn stood on her porch.
She opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“You fixed the broken light and planted flowers in front of the house.”
“It’s almost one in the morning. Not exactly the time for a garden tour.”
“I came to thank you for working tonight.” He stared at her chest.
“Eyes up here,” she said.
He lifted his head, his cheeks red. “Department of Redundancy Department.” He nodded at her shirt. “I like clever. I was appreciating the T-shirt.”
“I’ll bet you were.” As she waited, he seemed unsure of himself. Awkward. Maybe he wanted to apologize and couldn’t find the words. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here to thank me for working. I keep my commitments.”
His jaw tightened. “Go ahead and say it, Maddie. Tell me I don’t.”
She opened her eyes wide. “What are you talking about? You never made any commitments to me. Other than to pay me for working at the Harp. Which you’ve done.” She smiled brightly. “So we’re good, aren’t we?”
“Can I come in?” he asked.
She studied him for a moment, but couldn’t read him. “Fine.” She stepped aside, her heart racing. “Come into the library.”
It was hard to have him in her house. But they’d never kissed in the library. Never touched each other. At least here she wouldn’t have to battle memories of what they’d done.
He headed for the desk by the window. “That’s new. Did Delaney make it?” He ran his hand over the wood.
A memory of the way he’d touched Maddie flashed through her mind, but she shoved it away. “Yes. David ordered it before…” She swallowed. “Before he died.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What made him order a desk when he was so sick with cancer?”
“He didn’t tell me,” she said. Yet again she regretted that David hadn’t told her about his leukemia. He’d known she was consumed with the mess she’d made of her life, and she knew him well enough to know he’d wanted to spare her. But hell would freeze over before she shared with Quinn any more intimate details of her life. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He turned and leaned against the desk. “Some of those plants in front of the house are perennials. Does that mean you’re sticking around Otter Tail for a while?”
“What difference does it make?”
He stared at her for a long time. “I need to know if I should hire someone for the Harp,” he finally said.
“I’ll give you notice if I’m going to quit.”
“You don’t have to quit.” It sounded almost like a plea. “It won’t bother me to have you working there.”
“You’ve already made that clear,” she said coolly. “I got it the first time.”
“Damn it, Maddie, I didn’t mean it like that.” He scowled. “I know you need the money. You make good tips at the Harp.”
“You’re offering me a pity job? Kind of like your pity screw down on the beach?”
“It wasn’t like that.” He stepped closer. She thought he was going to grab her, and she was disappointed when he clenched his hands at his sides. “For God’s sake, Maddie. We could have fun if you stayed.” He glanced at the pajama pants hiding her legs. “I spent the whole damn evening trying to figure out if you were naked beneath that skirt.”
“What are you saying, Quinn?” A fist curled around her heart and squeezed so tightly that she thought she’d crumple from the pain. She’d assumed he’d come over to apologize. Instead, he’d come over looking for sex.
“I figured you wore that skirt for a reason. To send a signal.”
“What signal would that be?” It took every ounce of her strength to lean casually against the wall, as if she was merely curious. As if she wasn’t dying inside.
He shoved his hands through his hair. “That we were, you know, okay. That you wanted the same thing I did.”
“And that would be…?”
“Come on, Maddie. Do I have to spell it out?”
“I think you do.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
“To have a good time until you leave.”
“No-strings sex,” she said, her voice flat.
“You had a good time, too,” he replied defensively.
Did he know, at some level, that she wanted to slug him?
A good time. Her chest hurt so much, she was surprised she could breathe. “Who are you, Quinn?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I thought I knew you. You lied about David. What else did you lie about?”
“What do you mean, I lied about David?” He was genuinely bewildered.
“You told me he was your best friend.” She stepped away from the support of the wall. She had to put more space between herself and Quinn. “David wouldn’t have been friends with someone like you. Someone who just wants to use people.”
He flinched. “What the hell do you know about David and what he did or wanted? You never came to see him, not even when he was sick. Or for his funeral.” Quinn stalked over to her, but she held her ground. “He talked about you all the time. You were the most impor
tant person in the world to him. And you couldn’t be bothered to visit him before he died. Or show up to bury him.”
She pressed her hand to her chest, but he didn’t notice.
“Do you think David would have wanted you to sell the Harp to YourMarket? To rip out Otter Tail’s heart like that? He would have told you to let the past go. To forget about revenge. To move beyond what happened here when you were a kid. So don’t tell me what David would have wanted. You don’t have a clue.”
“You think that’s why I considered YourMarket? Did you listen to anything I told you? I need money. Lots of it. Revenge has nothing to do with it.”
She shoved him, catching him by surprise, and he stumbled backward. “And ‘let the past go’? Like you have?” She shoved him again. “You’re wallowing in the past. Keeping it as close as a lover. No wonder you can’t get involved. Paul wants you to run for mayor, and you’d be perfect for the job. But you’ll never do it. Not in a million years. Because you’re a coward who’s afraid of getting hurt again.”
She kicked the floor lamp next to the couch, then hid a grimace of pain. “You go ahead and have a pity party. Go ahead and hide in your pub. If you want to live your life alone, I’m not going to try and change your mind. But don’t tell me about what David would want. Because he sure as hell wouldn’t know who you are.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is that right?” She drew herself taller and stared Quinn down. “Convince me I’m wrong.”
His expression was tight. But he didn’t say anything, and suddenly her eyes prickled and her head ached as much as her heart.
“I thought what you did the other night when the pub was burning was bad. This is ten times worse—coming over here to ask for sex when I thought you were going to apologize to me. Get out.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not like that, Maddie, and you know it.”
“Do I? I thought I knew a lot of things. Turns out I was wrong.” She’d lost all desire to fight with him. She strode to the front door and opened it. “I changed my mind. I’m giving you notice. I can’t be around you. I’ll work for another week, to give you a chance to find someone else, but that’s it.”
“Don’t quit.”
An Unlikely Setup Page 17
