His Best Friend's Baby (19 page)

George chuckled, deep and satisfied. “I noticed.”

“Yeah, I want to know what you think.”

“Well, then, here it is. I think Dean would be cheering you on. There was nothing in life he wanted more than for you to like Mindy. Maybe even to love her, in a way.”

“That’s...different.”

“But he’s gone, so everything is different.”

Quinn scrubbed a hand over his face. Was it that simple?

“Who would he want raising his daughter? Some man he didn’t know? Or you?”

This part he could buy. “I love her like she’s mine.” He paused, examining his powerful emotions for the little girl with her blue eyes, milk-pale skin and huge toothless smile. “But maybe because she’s Dean’s, too. I see him in her sometimes. That smile, as if she is absolutely, one hundred percent sure the whole world will love her.”

“Mostly, the world did love him.”

They sat silent for a moment, both remembering.

“For what it’s worth,” George said finally, “nothing would make Nancy and me happier than to see the two of you married.”

“I don’t know how Mindy feels.”

“Sometimes, you just have to step off the cliff and ask.” George slapped his back. “Now, what say we go clean that kitchen?”

Quinn did help. Then he kissed Nancy’s cheek, accepted a handshake from George, and walked out to his car. He stood there for a long moment, his hand on the open door, gazing back at the house.

How many hours had he and Dean spent shooting hoops there in the driveway? The ball thudding against the backboard must have driven Nancy crazy, but she never said a word. There were the hours out in the small boat on the inlet, too, when they pretended to fish. Sitting in the boat, rocking on gentle waves, they’d used a pocketknife to cut their fingers and rub them together to share their blood.

“So we’ll really be brothers,” Dean had said, his face crinkled earnestly. “Then when my mom comes, I can ask her to take you, too.”

Quinn hadn’t believed in Dean’s mother; he’d never been able to believe in his own. But by then he understood that Dean needed this faith, so he kept silent. He’d gone along with the whole “blood brother” thing even though he was too old for it, too, because it seemed to matter to Dean.

He glanced down to see that he was rubbing his thumb against the pad of the forefinger he’d cut open that day. When he looked carefully, he could still see a faint white scar. The blade had sliced more deeply than he’d intended. He was pretty sure he’d washed Dean’s blood away with his own when they went back to the house, that none of it had actually run through his veins even briefly, but their intentions had been heartfelt. Face it, he thought: it had mattered to him, too.

Shaking his head, he got in the car. For just an instant, before he slammed the door, he thought he heard the thud of a ball hitting the backboard and a faraway, laughing taunt.

* * *

N
OTHING
LIKE
BEING
PUNCHED
in the nose to earn early dismissal. Ice pack pressed to the bridge of his nose at red lights, Quinn drove home.

He knew what he was going to look like tomorrow. He’d taken an elbow to the nose during the high-school state basketball play-offs his senior year. He’d bled what felt like a quart and woken up the next morning to grotesque swelling and two spectacular shiners. His nose had been a little crooked ever since.

Anticipation was half the fun. Boy, he hurt.

He’d forgotten Mindy would be here. He didn’t want her to see him like this. Maybe, if he parked in the driveway and scuttled in the front door, she wouldn’t know he was home at all until she went to leave and saw his car.

No such luck. She emerged from the side door before he could slam his.

“Quinn! I thought you were the UPS...” Her mouth made an O. “You’re hurt!”

“Nothing serious. Just didn’t duck fast enough.”

“Oh, no!” She hurried forward, expression distressed. “Is your nose broken?”

“No, it just feels like it is.” He tried to smile. “Listen, don’t let me bother you. My ice pack and I are going to commune.”

“You won’t choke on blood or anything, will you?” she asked doubtfully.

Touched by her worry, he said, “No, I think I’ve lost all the blood I’m going to lose. Now, breathing may be a challenge.”

“Oh, Quinn!” she said again, laying her hand on his arm.

He stiffened.

She snatched her hand back. “I’m sorry. I...”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” He stepped a little closer to the edge of that cliff by taking her hand in his. “Thank you for worrying.”

She seemed to relax. “I think I owe you some worry. Can I come up and check on you later, before I go home?”

“If you bring Jessie with you.”

“Okay.” Her smile blossomed. “You look awful, you know.”

He found himself grinning back at her even though it hurt to do so. “Thanks.”

Upstairs he took the painkiller they’d given him at the hospital, then lay down on the couch instead of his bed, the ice burning his face. He could just barely hear the whine of the saw, and a little later a baby crying.

Somewhere in there, he drifted off, waking when he heard the front door open and close.

“Quinn?”

“Here,” he croaked. “In the living room.”

Mindy circled the couch and laid Jessie on his chest, then sat on the coffee table. She had a raccoon look, with a fine wood powder clinging to her face everywhere her safety goggles hadn’t covered.

He laughed. “You’re almost as cute as I am today.”

She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, I forget how awful I look!”

“Personally, I’m afraid to see myself in the mirror.”

Head tilted to one side, she inspected his face. “Um...you might want to avoid that mirror for a few days.”

“Thanks.” He lifted Jessie, whose eyes widened at the sight of him. Then her mouth opened, and she let out a wail.

With a groan he sat up and handed her back to her mother. “I scared her.”

“No, she’s just hungry. Um...” She nodded toward the easy chair. “Do you mind?”

“Help yourself.” He stood, stretched and staggered to the john, where he winced at the sight of himself. Not good, he decided, turning his head to see himself from both sides. The bruising on his nose was already creeping under the eyes.

Quinn put the ice pack back over the bridge of his nose even though it was barely chilly anymore.

“She’s asleep,” Mindy murmured. “I should get her home to her crib.”

“Don’t go.”

“What did you say?”

His throat felt raw. “Please don’t go.”

She eyed him warily. “Okay. I guess I can put her on the floor.”

“I’ll go dump clothes out of a drawer.” He stood. “Just a minute.”

He set the empty bottom drawer from his dresser in Mindy’s old room and padded it with a top sheet folded over a cushy throw. Mindy appeared in the doorway with Jessie. “That looks cozy.” She laid her down on her back, then pulled a flap of the sheet over her.

Both stood looking down at the little girl, who had popped her thumb in her mouth when her mother had set her down. Frowning in her half sleep, she sucked fiercely for a moment before the thumb began to sag from her rosebud mouth.

They tiptoed out.

“Do you feel awful?” Mindy asked, when they returned to the living room.

Seeing the anxiety in her eyes, he realized she thought he wanted her to stay because he was afraid to be alone. “Not as bad as I look. The painkiller helped.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip.

He sat on one end of the couch again. After the briefest hesitation, she chose the other end. Déjà vu.

“I went over to the Howies the other day. Had lunch.”

Her face brightened, probably with relief at the innocuous subject. “How are they?”

“Good.” The same as they were a month ago. “Being there made me think about Dean. Remember some good times.”

“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.

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.”

This was hard. His timing probably sucked, too. His whole face throbbed. He didn’t exactly look like any woman’s dream. Oh, 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 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 horrible!”

Whoa. He’d missed something here. “What?”

“Have I ever told you that two or three weeks after my dad died, I came out to the kitchen to find a strange man pouring a cup of coffee? He was my mother’s new boyfriend.”

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 angered him.

“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?”

“Is that so improbable?”

“I...” Her voice died.

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
i
s, crossing her
t
s. “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 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 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 bent his head. This time, her lips met his gladly. The kiss was different. Tentative. Tender. 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.

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

“Argh,” he muttered.