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With Child

Page 23

by Janice Kay Johnson


  “I’ve been doing that, too.”

  “He was a good guy.” Saying that, he felt something ease inside. He wasn’t having to shoulder the hundred-pound pack loaded with conflicting emotions.

  Her smile was tinged with sadness but not grief. “He was, wasn’t he? I’m glad I have some videos of him being goofy for Jessamine to see someday.”

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  “Really?” She didn’t remind him that he’d been by her place four days ago. They didn’t yet have to watch what they said in front of a two-and-a-half-month-old baby.

  Damn, how did you start something like this? He’d never been slick.

  Worse, he realized that not since his mother died had he said to anyone, “I love you.” Even then, it had had a quality of desperation. Mommy, I love you. Don’t go.

  He set down the ice pack and wiped his palms on his thighs. “I’ve missed you. Both of you.”

  “Even getting woken up every two hours all night long?” she teased.

  Deadly serious, he said, “Even that.”

  At his tone, her smile faded. After a moment, she said in a small voice, “I’ve missed you, too.”

  God, this was hard. His timing probably sucked, too. His whole face throbbed. He didn’t exactly look like any woman’s dream. Oh, hell, face it, he wasn’t any woman’s dream. He was too screwed up emotionally.

  He almost chickened out then. What if her eyes widened with alarm and she had to gently let him down? The damn kiss had been bad enough; words couldn’t be forgotten. He had everything to lose.

  And everything to gain.

  Quinn gritted his teeth. “We’ve never talked about this, but, uh, the way I kissed you…”

  “I kissed you!”

  His brows drew together. “Sure, but I’m the one who took it further than you meant.”

  As if she hadn’t heard him, she exclaimed, “I felt like such a slut!”

  Whoa. He’d missed something here. “A slut?”

  “Have I ever told you that two or three weeks after my dad died, I came out to the kitchen in the morning to find a strange man half-dressed and pouring a cup of coffee? He’d spent the night with my mother.”

  Enlightenment. “And you thought kissing me put you in the same category.”

  She turned her head away, her hair now long enough to swing down to veil her profile. “Yes!”

  “I’m not a stranger.”

  “No.” She drew an audible breath. “I think…that almost made it worse. You were Dean’s friend. I knew all along you weren’t being so nice for my sake.” She cast him an embarrassed glance. “I mean, of course you were, but it was also for Dean. Because he would have done the same if you’d died and left a pregnant wife.”

  There she went again, and this time it pissed him off.

  “I love you,” he said.

  An appalling silence developed. Mindy slowly lifted her head and turned to stare at him, lips parted. Finally, when he was ready to crack, she whispered, “You…love me?”

  He muttered an obscenity. “Is that so improbable?”

  “I…” Her voice died.

  Crap. He rubbed his palms on his thighs again. “I’m not telling you this to put you on the spot. I thought you needed to know why…” His shoulders jerked. “Why I act the way I do sometimes.”

  “You love me.”

  “I said it, didn’t I?”

  “As in, in love with me?” She was dotting her is, crossing her ts. “Not just…like a sister?”

  “Did I kiss you like you were my sister?”

  “No-o.” She was silent for a moment. “I thought…I tempted you. And…you’re a man.”

  Yeah. He was. Which did not mean he ached for every pretty woman who happened his way.

  “Listen,” he said, starting to rise. “We can forget about this. I wanted to be honest. That’s all.”

  “Wait!” She started to untangle her legs.

  He hesitated, then sat back down. His chest felt like it was being crushed. Forget his broken nose; it was nothing in comparison.

  Her chin was up, her cheeks touched with pink. “Are you asking me out? Or suggesting Jessie and I move back in with you?”

  That damn metaphorical cliff edge was crumbling beneath his weight. He closed his eyes for an instant and stepped off into a sickening free fall.

  “If I thought there was a chance in hell you’d say yes, I’d ask you to marry me.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Quinn,” she whispered.

  The jagged rocks below rushed at him.

  “I love you so much.” Her tears overflowed at the same moment she launched herself at him.

  His arms opened automatically to receive her.

  She flung hers around his neck. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” Rivulets tracked the sawdust on her cheeks. “I can’t believe… I never thought…” She gulped even as her smile glowed as brilliant as the most glorious of sunrises over the Cascade Mountains.

  He felt as if he’d had a bungee cord attached. The ground suddenly stopped coming at him. Instead, he was hurtling toward the sky.

  Head spinning, he asked, “You love me?”

  “Yes!” How she could cry and laugh at the same time, he had no idea. “I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment you walked into that espresso shop. Except…” she bit her lip and her glow dimmed “…it’s more complicated than that. I’ve felt so guilty. I think there was always something. I could never make myself feel comfortable with you.”

  He wrapped a hand around her chin and lifted it so he could see her face. “Ditto. I’m just glad I didn’t understand then why I was avoiding you.”

  “Oh! Me, too.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Can I kiss you?”

  She sniffed. “I must look awful! Oh, and you must hurt!”

  He said something that was probably profane and bent his head. This time, her lips met his gladly. The kiss was different. Tentative. Tender. A brush of mouths, a nip. He gently suckled her lower lip. She did the same to his. They kept pausing to draw back and look into each other’s eyes, as if confirmation were needed.

  You love me?

  I love you.

  She was the one to murmur, “Do you think Dean…”

  As sure as he’d ever be, Quinn said, “We were the two people he cared most about. Jessie would have been the third. I can’t believe he wouldn’t be glad that we were together and happy.”

  After only the tiniest of pauses, she nodded. “Me, too.”

  He kissed her again. This one deepened, became urgent and hungry. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anything or anyone in his life.

  They both heard the cry at the same moment and stiffened.

  “Damn,” he muttered.

  She gave a husky laugh and rubbed her cheek against his before sitting up. She gripped his hand. “Quinn?”

  He cupped her face, the pad of his thumb moving over her lips. “Yeah?”

  “Um…I’m wondering. I want you. I guess you noticed.”

  His body was painfully hard. He’d been hoping like hell she did. Thinking she couldn’t kiss like that if she didn’t. He waited.

  She took a deep breath, face serious, tone apprehensive. “But I’m wondering if we can wait. It probably sounds stupid, but I’d feel better if it had been a year.”

  So she knew she wasn’t like her mother. He almost groaned.

  “We can wait.” It might kill him, but he could do it. “Maybe we’d both feel better.”

  Relief and regret in equal measure flooded her face. “Oh, Quinn, I love you so much. I didn’t know I could be so happy.” She grabbed his hand and jumped up. “Let’s go tell Jessie!”

  He let her pull him along. He felt stunned. Incredible. He hadn’t hit the top of the bounce yet.

  She was his. Jessie was his.

  I love you wasn’t that hard to say, after all. Maybe trusting in forever would come, too.

  SEVEN WEEKS LATER, on
the anniversary of Dean’s death, they took flowers to his grave. Jessie, carried by Quinn in the sling, looked solemnly around at the bronze plaques embedded in the grass.

  Quinn didn’t know whether Mindy silently asked for Dean’s blessing. He guessed he did, even though he didn’t expect an answer.

  A month after that, they got married in a small ceremony in a white-steepled church a mile from Quinn’s house, George, Nancy and Mindy’s mother all smiling and crying in the front pew. A fair number of Seattle’s finest filled the rest of the church.

  That night, the little girl he loved like his own asleep in her crib down the hall, his wife in his arms, Quinn felt whole for the first time in his life.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8675-1

  WITH CHILD

  Copyright © 2005 by Janice Kay Johnson.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.eHarlequin.com

  *Patton’s Daughters

  **3 Good Cops

  †Under One Roof

 

 

 


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