by Peggy Jaeger
When they’d gone, Clarissa turned to Quentin and Moira. “I can’t thank you two enough. Things were a little rough for a few minutes there. Having both of you stay so calm really helped. You ever want to quit doing what you do and switch to people, I’ll vouch for you,” Clarissa said to Quentin, shaking his hand.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to horses.”
“Tiffany asked if the two of you could stick around. She and Cole want to talk to you when her family leaves.”
“Okay,” Moira said. “Here’s your purse and keys. The car’s in the doctor’s lot. The guard let me park it there when he saw your sticker.”
“Well, I’ve got a ton of paperwork to do,” Clarissa told them. To Serena she added, “Thanks for inviting me. It’s the most excitement I’ve ever had at a party.”
“We’re more than glad you came, obviously. And I hope we see more of you,” she added as the doctor left the room.
“Subtlety, thy name is Serena,” Seamus said, grabbing her for a kiss.
“Yeah, Mom. Why didn’t you just ask her to marry Pat and get it over with?”
Serena graced her daughter with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, boy,” Moira muttered, unconsciously moving closer to Quentin for protection.
“Come on, Seamus,” Serena said. “And you two,” she added to the Stapletons. “Let’s go back to our house and make sure it’s still standing. We left Pat in charge. God knows what kind of trouble there’s been in the short time we’ve been gone.”
“I could use a beer,” David said, throwing an arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“We’ll see you later, Baby,” Seamus said, kissing his daughter. “Make sure she gets home okay,” he added to Quentin.
“Will do,” he said back.
When they were alone in the room, Quentin scrubbed his hands down his face and echoed his father’s statement. “A beer sounds good about now. It’s been a long day.” He sat down on one of the waiting room couches, his long legs splayed out in front of him. “Why are you all the way over there?” he asked. “Come sit next to me.”
When she did, he threw an arm around her shoulders and brought her in for a close, deep hug. “I had a weird sense of deja vu before. Did you?”
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “You mean when Jimmy Payson showed up?”
Quentin stared down at her, his brow tightening in a quizzical line. “Where did that come from?”
Biting her bottom lip she said, “I thought you meant because we had been talking about him the other day and then he showed up today. Kind of déjà vu-y.”
Quentin continued to just stare at her. “We need to talk about him later, but I meant I remembered delivering a calf or two with you over the years. That kind of deja vu.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
His brow furrowed deeper and his mouth turned slightly downward as he added, “And for the record, you will not be going for a drink with him to catch up. Not without me along, at any rate.”
Moira knew she should have been angry at his caveman-like statement, and she tried to summon up some acrimony, but couldn’t. The fact he was jealous of someone as insignificant as Jimmy Payson made her heart fall for him just a little more.
Going on pure emotion, she leaned over and kissed him full on the mouth. “No worries,” she told him, smiling. “I hadn’t planned on meeting him for anything, drink or otherwise.”
On a deep, tired sigh he told her, “It’s taking every last ounce of will power I have not to throw you down in this chair and kiss you silly, right now, Moira Cleary. If Tiffany hadn’t asked us to stay, we’d be at my place right now.”
“We can go just as soon as we see them. I can’t wait to see the inside of your house,” she said, wrapping an arm around one of his and snuggling her head on his shoulder. “Is it as big as it looks from your office?”
He squeezed the hand that was wound around his arm. “Yup.”
Just then, Mike re-entered the room. “We’re getting ready to head out with the boys. Tiff wants to see you two before she calls it a night.”
Quentin rose and pulled Moira up with him never letting go of her hand.
Tiffany’s room, despite being packed with people, was surprisingly quiet. Moira noticed she’d changed into a hospital gown and had an intravenous tube connected to her arm. Her beautiful, wild curly hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail, and she looked about twelve years old sitting up in the bed, her daughter swaddled in her arms.
“Come meet Al,” Liam said, grabbing Moira’s hand and pulling her close to the bed.
“Liam, I do not approve of that nickname,” Tiffany said, her voice stern but hinting at a contained laugh. “She is not a boy. You will call her Alaina, or if you have to shorten it, Ali. But never Al. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mommy.” He scooted up on the bed next to her and gingerly touched his finger to his little sister’s cheek. “She’s so soft,” he told Moira.
“And she finally stopped screaming,” Michael said, from his slumped position in a chair in the corner. He looked bored with the entire scene.
“We can still adopt you out, you know,” Cole told him. “It’s not too late. Some countries still have indentured servitude.”
Quentin caught Michael’s eye and winked. A small smile tugged at the corners of the fourteen year olds lips.
“Mom, why don’t you take these three home. I’m sure they’ve had enough baby talk for one night.”
“Can’t I stay?” Liam asked, his lower lip quivering. “I want to sleep here with Al—li.”
“You’ll see her tomorrow when they’re released and come home,” Cole told him, picking him up and giving him a hug. “Kiss Mommy goodnight.”
““Night, Mommy.” He planted a huge wet kiss on his mother’s cheek. “‘Night Al. I mean Ali,” he added, rubbing a hand across her head.
The other two boys repeated Liam’s motions as did Carly and Mike.
Tiffany stifled a yawn once they were gone. “That name’s gonna stick, I just know it.”
“We should let you get some rest,” Moira said.
“I’ll sleep in a little while,” Tiffany said. “Here, Mo, hold her for me.” Carefully supporting her little head, Moira took the sleeping baby into her arms. Tiffany glanced over at her husband and at his slight nod said, “We wanted to talk to you two first.”
“You have to know how much we appreciate how you helped today,” Cole said, took his wife’s hand in his, and kissed it. “If we had known she would deliver so fast again, we wouldn’t have come to the party, Mo. But having said that, it was truly a God-send Dr. Rogers was there, and you two stayed so calm and helped her.”
“She told us before she left this was her first home birth in this practice, and she admitted she was a little nervous about the outcome,” Tiffany said.
“But everything’s fine,” Quentin said, smoothly. “It’s all that matters.”
“True. Well, Cole and I talked about this in the ambulance and we’re in total agreement on it.”
Quentin and Moira stood silent.
“We want you to be Alaina’s godparents,” Cole said. “We really can’t think of two better people than the ones who helped bring her safely into the world.”
Moira couldn’t speak, as tears threatened to fall.
Quentin threw an arm across her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m pretty sure M’s going to say yes, but I certainly am. It’ll be an honor to be godfather to this little beauty.” He rubbed a finger down her cheek and grinned when she turned her face toward his hand.
“Are you sure?” Moira asked. “I’m already Liam’s godmother. You don’t have someone else you want to ask?”
“No,” Tiffany said. “Alaina is going to have strong women around her, despite living in my male dominated world. You certainly know something about living with excess testosterone.”
“Yes I do,” she said, rocking the baby. “I have to tell you, I’m already deep
ly in love with her.”
“Good. Then it’s settled,” Tiffany said, yawning again.
“I think it’s time to go, M,” Quentin said. “These three need some rest.”
Moira nodded and handed the baby back to her father.
After they said their goodbyes, Quentin walked with her out to his truck; his arm still slung over her shoulder, her head nestled in his arm.
“It’s quite an honor being asked to be a godparent,” he said, helping her into the cab. “And a first for me.”
“I love being Liam’s godmother,” she told him. “Godchildren are so special. I always send him presents from wherever I’m traveling. It’s like Aunt-practice for when my brothers start to have kids. Plus, he’s so darn cute.”
Before starting the car, Quentin turned to her, took her in his arms, and gave her a quick, hard kiss that set them both back on their heels.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for hours,” he told her, smiling against her lips. He touched them again, this time softer, but no less potently. His hands slid around her neck, pulling her across the cab. Roomy as it was, Moira hit the steering wheel.
“Ouch.” She pulled back, laughing. “I think we’re a little too old and you’re a little too big to be making out in the front seat of a truck, Q.”
Grinning, he kissed her once more and said, “I’ll argue the first point, but not the second.” He turned the key and started the engine. “I’ll try to keep my hands to myself until we get home.”
Moira nestled next to him in the spacious cab, took his right arm and crossed it over her shoulders so she could snuggle closer to him. “Here. How’s this?”
He planted a swift kiss on her temple, his eyes never leaving the road, and said, “As good as it gets.”
“I can’t believe Tiffany delivered her baby in my house,” she said after a minute. “What a story that’s going to be for the next few years.”
“Until something else equally or more exciting happens.”
Moira closed her eyes and relaxed against Quentin’s arm. The events of the day had been a whirlwind, and a mix of emotions trundled through her during the drive. From the intoxicating feel of Quentin’s lips across her hand as they’d sat at the piano, to the way her heart had completely turned over as she looked up into his moss colored eyes over Alaina’s head, warmed with desire for her, nothing was the same in her world since she’d woken that morning.
Peace, she thought, as the truck sped down the darkened road. She was at total and full peace for the first time in longer than she could remember. And most of the reason for her serenity could be placed directly at the door of the man sitting next to her.
Within minutes, he pulled the truck into his driveway. From his office window, Moira had thought the house looked big. Seeing it in person, she was amazed at how large it actually was. “This place could fit a family of six or more comfortably. I’m surprised you’ve got such a big house when it’s only you who lives in it.”
“It won’t be just me forever,” he said, hopping down from the cab.
In a gesture she was coming to expect, he jogged around to her side, opened the door, and helped her out.
With her hand in his, Quentin just stared down at her. Moira couldn’t read the serious expression traveling across his face, but his green eyes were shimmering in the semi-darkness.
“Come on in,” he said, tucking her under his arm. “I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
A wide veranda wound around the entire front and both sides of the house, a porch swing off to one side, matching table and chairs surrounding it.
“I love those kinds of swings.” Moira sighed.
“I know,” he told her. “Sometimes I come out here at night and listen to the quiet, watch the stars, have a beer. It’s so peaceful.”
“It’s stuff like that I’ve missed while touring,” she said, wistfully, entering his foyer. “Oh, Q, this is gorgeous.” The interior was a wide-open square, one room falling into the next. Opposite the entrance was a wall-length bank of windows, the draperies opened against sheer curtains. Moira couldn’t make out the view in the dark, but knew it would be a spectacular panorama of the valley below them. In the living room, which was tastefully furnished in tans and muted designs, sat a humongous brick fireplace. Over it was a painting of two horses, grazing in a field. Instinctively, she was drawn to it.
“My mom did this.” She turned to see him watching her from the doorway.
He nodded. “She gave it to me as a house warming present.”
“I’m not crazy, am I?” she asked, stepping in closer for a more detailed inspection. “It’s Gem and King, isn’t it?”
“I knew you’d recognize them the moment you saw it,” he said. “She captured the horses from memory. Your mom’s a genius,” he added, coming up behind her. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders and rubbed her upper arms. “I was speechless when she gave it to me. I knew it would be perfect right here.”
Moira continued to stare at the details Serena had woven into the scene. “It’s by the lake, where we used to let them roam when we swam,” she said, noting the tree line and remembering the meadow. “I never cease to be amazed by her talent. It’s mindboggling.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “I was so honored she did it for me. My mom said it took her about two months. She didn’t work from a photograph, just her memory. She really is amazing.”
Moira agreed.
“Want to see the rest of the house?”
She turned around to face him and smiled. “Try and stop me.”
His hands, so warm and big, circled her upper arms. The expression changed in his eyes when he stared down at her, from something soothing and warm to a red-hot poker heat in a heartbeat. She could feel her heart skipping in her chest, and that weak-kneed sensation hit her again as he slowly lowered his head to hers. She’d thought it was heat she’d seen in him when he looked down at her, but the moment his lips claimed hers, she realized it was much hotter than anything she could name. A slow slide of lava-hot need trailed down her neck where his tongue ventured. Her skin was seared inch by inch wherever he touched. He nuzzled the sweet spot behind her ear, than sucked the lobe into his mouth.
A lightning bolt of longing flashed within her. When a soft moan pushed up out of the back of her throat, Quentin tightened his grip, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her off her toes. He took her mouth with his, bent, and, with one hand under her knees scooped her up and walked her to the couch, his lips never breaking free from hers. He sat them down in a whoosh that made Moira giggle.
She pulled her lips from his and framed his face with her hands. “I thought you were going to show me the rest of the house.”
“It’s not going anywhere.” He kissed one of her palms, his gaze staying on her face. “And I haven’t thought about doing anything else but this since last night.” He pulled her back to him and captured her lips again. Nipping and tugging at them, he wove his tongue inside her mouth and she felt his breathing turn ragged against her hands when she laid them on his chest. His fingers drubbed up and down her back, kneading her skin beneath the thin dress while Moira snaked her hands around his neck, fisting his hair. She lost all thought as he devoured her mouth whole. Never had any other kiss from any other man felt like this. A torrent of need volcanoed up from her belly and her nipples tightened and hardened as she leaned against him. He stroked her from her waist, up to cup her breasts and she shuddered. Nothing else had ever felt as good as Quentin Stapleton’s hands on her body. With a mind of their own, her hands traveled down his neck, over his shoulders, up along the collar of his shirt. Every place she touched, she felt her fingertips singe.
Quentin pulled his lips from hers to skim down her jaw and neck again, his fingers gliding across her hardened nipples through her dress, tracing delicate circles around them. They puckered under his touch. A gentle tug on one swollen nub with the pads of his fingers set every nerve in her body on fire. A dress strap fell down h
er arm and Quentin traced his tongue along the exposed flesh.
“You taste like sunshine,” he whispered against her skin. “I’ve been dying all day to touch you like this, Moira. Just feel you.” He nibbled his way across her collarbone. “Just taste you.” His tongue flicked into the hollow of her throat. “Just have you here, with me. Now.” His mouth pushed against the bodice of her dress, pushing it down, exposing the skin under it. He pushed her breast up and out over the top and took her hardened nipple into his mouth. When he started to suckle, Moira gasped, and arched her back, pushing herself up fully into his mouth, giving him all the access he needed and demanded.
She felt the lower part of her body grow restless with a need that had her writhing against his lap. She could feel how hard, hot and ready he was against her leg, and she shifted so she could straddle him. When he moaned into her breast, she kissed his neck, felt the pulse pounding there and discovered a power she never knew she possessed. Her hips started a subtle grinding motion against his pants. Tingles of pleasure shot up through her body as she felt how ramrod hard he was against the most private and sensitive part of her.
Quentin pulled back, circling his hands around her arms again. “Moira stop moving like that or I’m gonna explode.” His laugh sounded pained as he laid his forehead against hers.
They were both panting, their chests heaving with the passion each had unleashed in the other.
He looked into her eyes and with a crooked smile, said, “I’ve been waiting for you so long. A lifetime. I don’t want our first time to be on a couch, like a pair of teenagers.”
Her eyes widened when the implication of his words broke through her lust-crazed mind. “First time,” she repeated, her gaze darting back and forth between his eyes, her hands still lying on his shoulders. “First time. Oh. God. Quentin.”
She shot off his lap, fiercely pulling the straps of her dress back up. Her face felt on fire from her neck to her hairline as she ran across the room, away from him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, her breathing jagged as she gulped for air. She couldn’t seem to get any into her lungs.
Quentin bolted from the couch and crossed to her. When he tried to take her back in his arms, she put a restraining hand out, pushing against his solid chest. “No, don’t. Please. Don’t touch me right now. I’m sorry.”
