Patchwork Family (12 page)

He pulled her against him and his mouth covered hers. But this kiss was no light touching of lips, no casual salute. Instead, his mouth urged her to open to him, to share an intimacy deeper than Molly had ever experienced.

She intended to resist. Of course she did. But the warmth, the wanting, the wonder of his kiss, ruled out common sense. It must’ve ruled out sanity, too, because her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed even closer than before.

When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, the only thing he said was her name before he reslanted his lips over hers and kissed her more deeply. Molly’s overcoat had been shed in Sara’s room when she was putting her daughter to bed, so his hands were free to roam her sweaterdress.

She felt his touch through the soft material and it stoked the fire that blazed in her, long hidden beneath the disgust she’d felt for her husband.

Her body clamoring for more, she didn’t even protest when his hand covered one breast and then the other through her dress. Lightning seemed to strike her and she moaned.

“Molly, Molly,” he whispered, before kissing her again. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he panted. But he didn’t finish those words. He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her for more than a word or two.

“Upstairs,” he urged, moving her toward the stairs as his hands began tugging her skirt up. The words put out the fire that had been raging through Molly.

Upstairs, where Sara was.

“No!” Molly protested, ripping herself out of his embrace.

A strange silence fell. Strange because Molly’s body was protesting the free fall from ecstasy, while her mind was protesting her loss of control.

“Sweetheart, what— We want each other. You can’t deny that,” he protested, his breathing shallow, his voice husky with desire.

“No, but the answer is still the same. Please leave.”

“Molly—”

Much to her shame, her eyes filled with tears. “Please!” She hated to plead, but she couldn’t take any more.

Her weakness, as she saw it, had more effect than anything else. He reached out and cupped her cheek, but she flinched. His hand fell to his side and he turned and walked out of her house, saying nothing else.

Molly stood with her head down for several minutes before she crossed to the front door and locked it. Then she sank down on the bottom stair and sobbed into her hands.

She’d almost forgotten the cruel lessons of the past. She’d almost risked her daughter’s happiness for—for incredible sex. She knew, without ever experiencing it, that Quinn’s lovemaking would be unbelievable. He’d already stirred her more than her husband ever had. And all they’d done was kiss with their clothes on.

Only because she’d stopped him.

If she hadn’t come to her senses, in five minutes, she would’ve been lost. Then both she and Sara would suffer heartache and abandonment again. Only
this time it would be worse because they’d want so much more.

How could she have forgotten so quickly?

And what was she going to do about it now? She was committed to Tyler, to her bed-and-breakfast, to building a safe, secure home for her little girl.

Could she hope Quinn would decide to return to his world-roaming days, his sophisticated women? Would he realize, as she did, that tonight had been a mistake?

She slowly rose and dragged herself up two flights of stairs to her solitary bedroom.

But her personal space didn’t offer the comfort it usually did. She couldn’t shut Quinn out. He’d already seen her room earlier in the evening. But now he was in her head, in her blood. She couldn’t forget his touch.

She couldn’t save herself from heartbreak.

But she could save Sara.

And that was what she had to do, no matter how much it hurt.

Quinn rubbed his eyes and tried again to concentrate on the legal language in the contract he was supposed to approve for one of his clients.

Before he knew it, however, he was picturing Molly in the royal-blue sweaterdress that faithfully outlined her body. The body he’d caressed the night before.

“Quinn?” Amanda Trask, his partner, called as she rapped on his door. Before he could answer, she opened it and stepped inside. “Do you have—What’s the matter with you? Are you sick?”

“No! I’m fine.” He drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “What do you need?”

Instead of answering right away, Amanda stepped closer and stared at him. “Hmm, Clarisse must’ve been very demanding last night.”

“Probably, but not with me. She returned to Chicago on the five-o’clock flight.” Again he asked, “What do you need?”

Amanda sat on the corner of his desk. “Then who put those shadows under your eyes?”

“No one. I didn’t sleep well last night. Probably had too much caffeine. I’ll cut back this evening.”
He hoped he’d satisfied his partner’s curiosity. “The open house was a success, don’t you think?”

“Very much so. I hadn’t seen the inside of the house since before old Mrs. Blake died. Molly certainly gave it a face-lift. It didn’t hurt, of course, that she was smiling and friendly. That’s another change from Mrs. Blake. Molly is such a darling, isn’t she?”

“Um, yeah…darling.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I got a call from the County Clerk’s office. They’ve set the hearing for the zoning this Thursday evening. Molly will need to be present. I’ve got to call her. Maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Allen to make the call because I’m already running late. I needed to—”

“I’ll call her.” He couldn’t believe he’d offered to have more contact with Molly. About midnight, after staring at the walls of his bedroom for several hours, he’d decided he’d avoid the woman at all costs.

Amanda smiled. “Oh, good, thanks. I’ll make a presentation to the City Council, of course, but they’ll probably have questions for Molly. Would you have time to prep her on any possible questions?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I’m leaving on the five-o’clock flight today, but I’ll be back Thursday about noon. In plenty of time.”

“Right,” he agreed, and said goodbye as his partner responded to their secretary’s prompting.

Then he bowed his head, resting his forehead on his fists in the center of his desk. First a phone call, then a prepping for the hearing. Which meant he had to see Molly.

“But it’s business,” he reminded himself. “Just business.”

He reached for the phone.

When she answered, he almost forgot to speak as emotions flooded him.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Uh, Molly, it’s me, Quinn.”

After a pause, she said, “Yes?”

“Amanda asked me to call.” He wanted it understood up front that this was not a personal call. He kept his voice stiff and formal. As she had tried to do last night.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. But the date for the hearing has been set. It’s Thursday night. Amanda wanted to give you plenty of notice. But she was running late and had to go to Chicago this afternoon.”

“But—”

“She’ll be back in time for the hearing. But I’ll need to go over possible questions with you so you’ll be ready.”

“No! That won’t be necessary. I’ll be prepared.”

“It’s my duty as your legal advisor to prep you. There might be things you haven’t thought of, and you have to be prepared,” he warned. Why was he pushing for what he didn’t want?
Because I’m a professional. I always do a thorough job.
It had nothing to do with what had happened last night.

“Make a list of questions and leave it with your secretary. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“No. This has to be done in person.”

“My schedule is too packed today. I can’t—”

“I’ll take you to lunch at Marge’s tomorrow while Sara’s in school. We can talk there.” Then he could
see her without being tempted to lose control. Which wouldn’t do at all.

Apparently Molly thought the same thing because, after a moment’s silence, she agreed.

“Fine, I’ll pick you up at eleven-thirty.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Her brief response brought a picture of her standing by the door so he wouldn’t have a chance to come in. She didn’t wait for his response but hung up the phone.

“Damn, you’d think I was a threat to the woman. All I did was kiss her!” he muttered.

“Did you call, Mr. Spencer?” the secretary asked, poking her head past his office door. He hadn’t realized Amanda hadn’t completely closed it when she left.

“No. I was talking to myself.”

She waggled a finger at him. “Better be careful. You know they say people who talk to themselves are crazy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Allen. I’ll let you know if I need you.” To keep him from going crazy.

He picked up the contract still on his desk, to be sure the woman realized she was dismissed. When she disappeared, pulling his door closed after her, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Until he remembered that he had an appointment for lunch with Molly tomorrow. Then he forgot all about the contract.

By four o’clock, he’d given up trying to read the contract. His famous concentration skills had disappeared.

“No wonder. I didn’t sleep more than two hours last night.”

Damn it, here he was talking to himself again. He shoved the contract back into its file and left it on his desk. He’d try again in the morning after a good night’s sleep.

Some cynical, sadistic voice deep inside him asked, “You think you’re going to sleep any better tonight?”

He leaped to his feet and grabbed his overcoat. But he didn’t bother with his briefcase. Tonight he was going to relax, take his mind off work…and off Molly. He could handle what had happened last night. After all, he’d been with more beautiful women. Certainly more willing. More his type.

Before the walls could laugh at him, he raced out of the office.

S
ILENCE REIGNED
over the dinner table that evening until Brady showed up. Elias and Quinn had been eating their salads without any conversation.

“Well, aren’t you two a chatty group,” Brady said, as the housekeeper brought another salad and a place setting to the table.

“You joining us?” Elias asked, a smile on his face. Quinn hadn’t bothered to smile and couldn’t figure out what his father found to please him.

“I thought I would. Your housekeeper cooks better than I do, and I finished up early tonight.” Brady turned to smile at Quinn. “I think your Molly has spoiled me. I don’t like my own cooking anymore.”

“She’s not
my
Molly!” Quinn snapped.

Elias jerked his head up to stare at his youngest son. Before he could ask any questions, however, Brady spoke.

“Well, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll visit
sweet Molly. She’s going to make some man an incredible wife. He’d never go hungry.”

“Don’t you think about anything but your stomach?” Quinn demanded, leaping to his feet. “Molly has a lot more to offer than her cooking.”

“After seeing her in that dress yesterday, I’d guess all the men in town know that, don’t you think?” Brady responded, winking at Quinn.

“Sit down, son, and finish your salad, or we’ll never get to the roast beef Eva prepared.” Elias sent a look Brady’s way that Quinn couldn’t interpret, but he wasn’t finished speaking. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Quinn asked, lost. What had they said that made his father think of Christmas.

“Yeah, Christmas. It’s only a couple of weeks away. I thought we might, uh, expand our guest list a little. Lydia doesn’t have any family here, and I thought it would be nice to ask her to join us. You don’t have any objections, do you?”

Brady and Quinn exchanged a look, but they both shook their heads.

“Good. We don’t want Jenna to feel like the Lone Ranger,” Elias said with a grin. His sons both stared at him, a lack of comprehension on their faces. “The only female. That’s what I meant.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, still frowning.

“Good thinking, Dad,” Brady agreed.

“Course, if you two would each find a lady, she wouldn’t be the only female in the family.”

Quinn began to see a pattern. “Brady and I aren’t the only single men around here.”

Brady looked even more bewildered.

Quinn nudged him and nodded toward Elias.

“True,” Elias agreed, showing no concern.

“Dad!” Brady exclaimed, shock on his face.

“Well? I
am
single.”

Glad to have something else to occupy his mind beside a certain blonde, Quinn agreed. “You are, for way too long. Lydia is a nice lady.”

“Yeah,” Elias agreed with a warm smile on his face.

Quinn realized his father had been smiling a lot more lately. Was it because of Lydia?

“Anyway,” Elias continued, “I thought you should ask Molly and her sweet little girl. It will get us used to having children around at Christmas. I need to practice, you know, because next Christmas we’ll have Seth and Jenna’s child.”

This time it was Brady who encouraged his father. “Good idea, Dad. I know Molly doesn’t have any other family, so she and Sara would probably enjoy celebrating with us.”

“I don’t think she’ll come,” Quinn snapped.

Elias eyed him curiously. “You two have a fight? Is that why you look like you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night?”

“I had something on my mind,” Quinn replied, avoiding looking at his family members.

“Maybe he was regretting Clarisse’s departure,” Brady suggested, a teasing look on his face.

Quinn didn’t bother to protest. Let his brother think what he wanted as long as he didn’t realize it was Molly, not Clarisse, who caused his insomnia.

“Well, you can invite who you want, Quinn,” Elias said slowly, “though I’ll admit Clarisse isn’t a favorite. But I want Molly and little Sara to come. Will you take care of it for me?”

Quinn wished he could say no. But he couldn’t unless he wanted to make some explanations that he’d rather avoid. Besides, he figured his father would ask Molly if he didn’t.

“I’ll extend the invitation, but I don’t know if she’ll come.”

“Good enough.” Elias rang the small dinner bell beside his plate. When Eva opened the door, he said, “We’re ready for the roast beef now.”

T
WO IN THE MORNING
. Quinn stared at the alarm clock, its numbers the only light in his bedroom.

“This is ridiculous!” he protested to no one. He’d stayed up until midnight, watching late-night television, but he’d found little to catch his attention. Then he’d turned out the lights, sure he’d fall asleep at once.

But he hadn’t.

Now he understood why people got hooked on sleeping pills. Nothing was scarier than staring at the walls, knowing he needed sleep but unable to get it. Why? What was the problem? He’d gone without sex before. In fact, he’d practiced abstinence a lot more than most people would believe. Mindless sex had lost its attraction when he’d left the teenage years.

So why was it different with Molly?

Why couldn’t he shut her out of his mind, dismiss her influence on his body? Get some damn sleep!

It was his fault.

He’d known he’d need to avoid seeing or speaking to Molly. That had been his game plan. But when the opportunity to call her had arisen, he hadn’t been able to resist.

If anyone had asked, he would’ve assured him his
self-discipline was one of his strong traits. He may have played the playboy role, but in actuality, he’d worked hard on his career. He’d done what had to be done to not just survive, but to grow and succeed.

Except avoid Molly Blake.

He understood about withdrawal. You suffered a couple of days, then you continued with your life. But he’d agreed to see Molly tomorrow.

Agreed? Hell, he’d pressed her to meet with him.

“I was only doing my job,” he muttered, but he had to be honest with himself if no one else. He’d wanted to see her. To see those big blue eyes that twinkled when she smiled. To let his gaze trace her soft curves. To breathe in her warm, wholesome but sexy scent. He craved those things as an alcoholic craved a drink.

And because he’d given in to his needs, he was spending another sleepless night.

With a sigh, he gave in to his wants and envisioned a smiling Molly, her arms around Sara. Then he imagined her in the kitchen, filling the room with fragrant odors, her curves wrapped in a big white apron, or in that sweaterdress that he couldn’t get out of his mind.

It was hours till he finally fell asleep.

M
OLLY HAD ACCOMPLISHED NOTHING
with her morning. Except dressing for her lunch with Quinn. At first, she’d considered dressing as she had when she’d first met him: in stained, old clothes, her hair a mess, no makeup on. A silent message to tell him she didn’t care about his opinion. But that would be cutting off her nose to spite her face. And it would be dishonest.

Besides, as a business owner, she needed to appear professional. And if she wanted people to believe her only reason for meeting Quinn was a business one, she had to look like a businesswoman.

So she dressed in a suit, a rich plum. It wasn’t new, but she loved it. It gave her some much needed confidence. Then, holding her overcoat over her arm, she went down the stairs to sit on the bottom step, close to the door.

When she heard steps on her porch, she drew a deep breath, leaped to her feet and stood still until the knocker sounded. Then she shrugged on her coat as she opened the door. “I’m ready,” she announced, turning away after permitting herself one quick look at Quinn.

Even as she stepped past him, she noted the dark circles under his eyes. She, too, had circles, but she’d hidden them with makeup. Her problem was caused by lack of sleep, since every time she fell asleep she dreamed of Quinn, of being in his arms.

She couldn’t believe Quinn had lost any sleep over what had happened between them. Perhaps he was coming down with a bad case of the flu.

“Do you want me to drive my own car so you don’t have to bring me back? I don’t want to take you out of your way.”