by Peggy Jaeger
When he said nothing in reply, she turned to Quentin. “And as for you. I was going to tell you about the tour offer over dinner, which we never got to. I was going to tell you I’m declining it because I’ve accepted the position as the interim musical director for the high school starting this fall.”
“What?” Both male voices echoed in the room.
With a satisfied nod, she said, “I met with the principal this afternoon. He hired me on the spot. I have to meet with the faculty tomorrow to get up to speed before this term ends and the new one begins.”
The two of them sat, quietly, stunned.
“I can see this is a bombshell,” she added. “Good. You both deserve to be beaten back a little.” She turned her attention back to Quentin, her voice less harsh and softer, but he heard the hurt lace through every word. “You never even considered I would turn the tour offer down. You just assumed what Pat said was true, and that hurts more than you can know, because it makes me doubt you really know me at all.”
“Moira, please—”
“I’m going home,” she said, ignoring him and tossing her bag over her shoulder. “Do not follow me. I really don’t want to talk to either of you anymore right now.”
Neither of them moved from the table as she waltzed out the door. When the sound of her car speeding off met their ears, Quentin reached for a beer and opened it.
“She didn’t want to talk to us any more right now,” he said, taking a large gulp from the can.
Pat nodded. “But she will want to talk later. You know my sister. She gets mad, stews, then either forgives or gets even.”
“Okay. I need a plan.”
“Good thing you’ve got me to help.”
Quentin slanted him a wary look and squinted. “Your help is what got me into this mess to begin with. Now shut up and let me think.”
“Pass me a slice of pizza while you’re thinking. I’m starving.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Moira, wake up. Come on. Open those beautiful eyes and look at me.”
Slowly, sleepily, Moira became aware of something soft rubbing against her cheek. She swiped a hand out to it. “Rob Roy, stop. No kisses.”
A low, distinctly human, male chuckle met her ear, followed by a tender kiss to her nose. “Wake up, Baby.”
Moira opened her eyes and saw Quentin leaning over her. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, the moonlight slitting in through her open window haloing his face and shoulders.
“How did you get in here?” she asked, blinking awake in an instant.
“I crawled up the trellis outside Pat’s room and walked along the drainpipe. I know you always leave your window open at night.”
She sat up on an elbow and sniffed. “You’re drunk. How did you get here?”
“I’m not drunk,” he said, keeping his voice low and quiet. “I had two beers to your brother’s four. He’s currently sound asleep on my couch, snoring. And I biked here, so don’t worry.”
Rob Roy lifted his head, inhaled the air a few times, groaned a deep doggie complaint and then went back to sleep. “Some guard dog you are,” Moira told him as he started to snore.
Quentin framed her face with his hands. When she didn’t flinch or try to pull away, he bent and softly placed a kiss on her mouth. “Moira.” He sighed and laid his forehead against hers.
“You know my father will shoot you if he finds you in here,” she said, trying to ignore the equal ripples of delight and desire shooting down her body from his touch. She didn’t want to be seduced or charmed by him. She was still mad and hurt by their argument.
“I’m more afraid of your mother. She’d do much more damage,” he told her. “Come here.” He wound her arms around his neck, lifted, and carried her to the oversized chair next to her unlit fireplace. “I need to talk to you and I can’t do it while you’re in bed looking all sleepy-sexy and desirable. It’s too distracting.”
He settled into the chair with her draped across his thighs, like a child.
“I think you said enough earlier,” she told him, moving her hands to her lap, her gaze locked onto his.
“No. The problem is I didn’t say enough.”
He took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips. Moira’s heart rate quickened, but she refused to let him see how his touch affected her.
Looking at her with just the moonbeams coming in her room as his only light, Quentin sighed. “I’m sorry, Moira. So sorry.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For starters, not telling you about Pat’s plan.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You’re seriously not going to lay this all at his door, are you?”
“No, not all. I was being truthful before when I said he asked me to look out for you and try to find out what happened. But even before he asked, I was determined this time you were going to know exactly how I felt about you. I wanted you to work with me at the clinic so I could try and convince you being here, being with me, was what mattered. Not touring, but staying home for good. From the moment I knew you were coming back, I wracked my brain for ways to make you stay. I wanted you here, with your family, with me. I didn’t want you to leave again. So, if I’m guilty of anything, it’s really just being selfish where you’re concerned. I wanted you to stay home this time.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand. Rubbing her thumb along the outline of his mouth, she told him, “I wasn’t kidding when I said how hurt I was you’d think I’d leave again. You believed Pat without giving me a chance to tell you what was really going on.”
“And I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her fingers. “I reacted without thinking. My only excuse is that I was absolutely terrified you really didn’t love me enough to stay or if you even wanted to. And I didn’t think I could compete with whatever offer you’d been made.”
She sighed and dropped her head to his cheek. “I was going to tell you over dinner. All of it. The tour offer, the CD, and the music job. I wanted you to hear from me I wasn’t going anywhere again. Because of my big mouth brother, I never got the chance.”
He kissed her forehead. “You can’t know what it did to me when he mentioned the symphony offer. I felt my whole body just…I don’t know…deflate. I couldn’t stand the possibility you might be gone again, not after what we’d finally found together. All I could think was I hadn’t done a good enough job making you see why you had to stay. And I’ll admit, my ego suffered a big blow when I thought touring meant so much more to you than I do.”
“You’re a dumb goon,” she said, stifling a yawn.
He cuddled her closer, and ran a finger up and down her arm. “How did you even know about the music instructor position? From Alastair?”
She told him about seeing Mrs. Kalgon in Clarissa’s office and then two other acquaintances when she’d been out shopping. “I called the principal after Magnusson left. I knew then I couldn’t leave no matter how tempting his offer was. I can’t leave you, Quentin. Not now.”
“Not ever, I hope.” He kissed her temple, then traced a finger lazily along her jaw. “Your brother was really shocked when he saw us together. I thought he suspected something when he met us at the movies.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “When we came out of the theater I had my arm around your shoulders. He looked at me with a suspicious expression. Remember?”
She nodded. “I thought he was just distracted by the calving, but I do remember the way he looked at us.”
“He told me tonight he did suspect something, but never assumed we were together. But seeing us before, right after we…well, he was upset, to say the least. I’m actually surprised he didn’t punch me.”
Moira trailed her gaze over his face then back up to capture his eyes. “You two are the oldest and best of friends. You share everything, and always have. You never told him how you feel about me?”
He shook his head. “No. When we were kids, I knew he’d ride me mercilessly about it if he knew I had a crush on you
. Later on, well, I figured you needed to know first. I wanted to make sure you felt the same way before I said anything. Pat can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life and if he knew, I was afraid he’d blab it before I got the chance. The only person who knows, who ever knew, is my mom.”
“She’s not the only one.”
When his eyes narrowed, she said, “My mom told me point blank you’ve been in love with me, quote, since we were in diapers, unquote. She and Delilah have been waiting for us both to grow up and realize how we feel about each other.”
He shook his head again, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards. “The picture in my office? Of prom?”
She nodded.
“When I moved into the house, Mom made it for me and told me she knew the moment she took it you and I were destined to be together.”
“How? It’s such a random picture.”
“She wouldn’t tell me, but I figured it out on my own.” He shifted and gently pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. “I’ve looked at it so many times since she gave it to me, just waiting for you to come home. Look at it the next time you’re in the room. Your face is so open, so beautifully happy, every emotion in you is written on it. You should have been upset about getting dumped by Payson right before the dance. But you weren’t and you can see it in the photo. We both look so happy together, Moira. So perfect together.”
She nuzzled his neck, inhaling the soft whiff of his musky aftershave. “I hate admitting when my mom is right about something.”
His chuckle was soft and low. “Welcome to the club.”
They sat, silently. Quentin’s fingers trailed up and down the length of her arm as she worried the knuckles of his other hand in hers. The drumming of his heartbeat against her ear was hypnotic. She closed her eyes and just let her body liquesce into his. If she never moved from this spot for the rest of her life, she would be content.
He kissed her so sweetly she wanted to weep again. In the next instant, she was laughing against his mouth. Pulling back he asked, “What?”
“We really need to get back at Pat,” she said. “And good.”
He kissed her again, and this time she kissed him back.
When they came up for air, she sighed. “What’s with him, anyway? He’s been so moody and cranky since I got home. He got mad at me today when I asked him why he wasn’t at the clinic. Practically bit my head off. He’s never been so jumpy before.”
Quentin kissed her nose. “I think he’s just tired. The business end of the practice takes a lot out of him.” Smiling a second later, he added, “plus, he’s frustrated.”
“What?”
With a soft chuckle, he said, “Let’s just say he hasn’t found what we have and leave it there.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Quentin lifted her and carried her back to her bed. Gently, he laid her down, pulled the covers up around her and petted her hair as it flowed across the pillow. “Your brother is a complicated guy in some ways, Moira. Cut him some slack for now.”
She yawned and snuggled down, staring up at him. “You’re talking in riddles.”
He knelt down and kissed her lips, framing her face with his hands. “I love you, Moira. Just think about us. I love you.”
She reached up and hugged him. “I love you, too. Despite the fact you act like a goon.” She kissed him hard on the mouth and then pushed him away.
Desire and love mixed on his face. Moira reached up a finger and traced it along the outer edges of his lips. Her breath hitched when he pulled it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around it while he lightly sucked.
“If I don’t leave right now,” he said on a sigh, “I might throw all caution to the wind and suffer the wrath of your mother if she finds us together.” He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you.”
“Don’t fall off the trellis,” she told him, halfway to sleep when he stood. “I could never explain it to my parents.”
His smile was brilliant and rakish in the moonlight. He went to the window, stuck one foot out, then his leg. Holding onto the windowpane, he turned back to her and said, “Dream about me.”
“Like I’ll be able to dream about anything else,” she said, asleep before he hit the ground.
****
Two rooms away, Serena turned from the window, slid back into bed and into her husband’s waiting arms.
“Did he survive the trip back down?” Seamus asked, kissing her cheek and pulling her close.
She chuckled and rubbed her nose against his chin. “No damage. It’s a good thing you reinforced the trellis.”
He yawned and snuggled her closer. “Between Pat and then Denny always sneaking in, it got pretty loose. Q’s way bigger and heavier than both of them.”
“Do you think those two resolved whatever caused the fight?” she asked.
“I didn’t hear any yelling. Even whispered yelling, which carries in this house. I think it’s safe to say they kissed and made up.”
“I hope so.” She hunkered down under the comforter and grabbed his hand beneath it. “I think a July wedding might be nice. And I’ll make a point of having them invite Clarissa Rogers.”
Seamus rolled over, kissed his wife, and diverted her thoughts from weddings and invitations.
Chapter Twenty
Despite her late night visitor and interrupted sleep, Moira woke refreshed and happy. She knew she couldn’t stay mad at Quentin. She loved him too much. He’d done what he’d done because he loved her too and didn’t want her to leave again. She believed him. Moira knew she needed to speak to Pat today as well, to clear the air between them. She couldn’t stay angry at him if she’d forgiven Quentin, even though she felt her brother deserved her anger more.
After a shower, she called Aldus Magnusson. To say he was upset with her choice was an understatement, but he left the door open for her to come back into the troupe anytime she wanted, and on her own terms. After thanking him she threw on her robe and went down to breakfast.
“Hey, Daddy,” she kissed her father on top of his head, then poured hot water for tea.
“Sleep okay, Baby?” Seamus asked with a smile for her.
For the briefest of heartbeats, Moira panicked. Just as quickly the sensation fled and she replied, “like a baby.”
The doorbell rang just as Serena was coming down the stairs. “I’ll get it,” she called. There was muffled talking at the front door and then she came into the kitchen, a large box in her arms.
“Package for you,” she told Moira, placing it on the table.
“It’s huge.” The box was square, tall and had holes poked into the sides. It was topped with a huge blue bow. “Who’s it from? There’s nothing on the front.”
“Open it,” Seamus told her, glancing up at his wife’s smiling face.
Cautiously, she lifted the top.
“Oh. My. God.”
From the bottom of the box she found two pair of deep, soulful brown eyes gazing adoringly up at her, two pink tongues lolling outwards.
“These look like Mr. Calahan’s puppies,” she cried, lifting one up into her arms, Serena talking the other.
“This one has a note around its neck,” Serena said. “Here, it’s addressed to you.”
Moira bundled the puppy into one arm and it immediately snuggled down, content. It traced one quick lick across her arm. “You are the most darling thing ever,” she said, kissing its snout. “You too,” she said, flicking the other’s ear.
“What’s the note say?” Seamus asked.
“Dear Moira,” she read. “Our daddy got us from nice Mr. Calahan so we could come and live with him. Our names are Rob and Roy. Awww. We love our big new house, but we were wondering if you would like to come and live with us in it. We need a mommy, and we picked you when you came to visit us the other day. Of course, we know you couldn’t just live with us, you would need to mar—oh…OH.”
She dropped the letter and shot out of the kitchen, the puppy secured in
her arms. From the door she heard her father say, “July, huh?”
Moira flung open the front door and found him leaning against the porch railing, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting. When he saw her, the puppy in her arms and the tears falling down her cheeks, she watched him take a long, full breath.
“Yes,” she shouted and ran into his arms. “Yes. Yes. YES.”
He lifted both of them up in the air and then pulled them in tightly. “You have no idea how nervous I’ve been waiting out here,” he told her, kissing her hair.
“It’s only been two minutes,” she said, laughing and staring up at him, the puppy wedged between them.
“Feels like two years.” He rubbed a finger behind the puppy’s ears. “This one’s Rob.”
“How can you tell the difference? They look identical.” She leaned into his embrace, swiping her cheeks, as she looked at the pup.
“Roy’s got a white patch on his nose. You have to look close to see it, but Mr. Calahan pointed it out. Said it really was the only way to tell them apart. We’ll need to get them collars with their names on them for everybody to know the difference.”
Staring up at him, loving him more than she could ever imagine, she asked, “How did you know?”
He bent down and, rubbing her back, softly kissed her lips. “Pat. During the time you left and I,” he looked up toward the front door and lowered his voice, “got here, we had a long talk. I told him I wanted to marry you and I had to find a way you couldn’t refuse.”
Stunned, she asked, “You honestly thought I’d say no? After everything?”
He shrugged and tightened his hold around her. “I just wanted to hedge my bets. P told me about your visit to Calahan’s and how you fell in love with the pups. He knew you wanted one, so I figured I’d double my chances by getting both. When I told Mr. C. why I wanted them, he gave them to me, free of charge.”
