And as much as she played with the thought of telling him he shouldn’t have, of acting incensed and outraged, of letting him know he’d better not ever do it again, she just took one more step backward and waved weakly to send him away.
Because while something inside her shouted that Quinn Camden was no one she should be canoodling with, kissing him again was all she could think about.
Chapter Five
Clairy was up at dawn on Wednesday. It helped that many of the guests invited to the impromptu engagement party that she was throwing for Marabeth had insisted on pitching in, but still, Clairy had a jam-packed day ahead of her.
The weather couldn’t have been better for an outdoor party—sunny and warm but not too hot—so there was no worry about that.
Mim’s green thumb had already made the sprawling backyard a lush venue. Marabeth’s aunt owned the local barbecue restaurant and was catering. Marabeth’s uncle had the best cheesecake recipe in town and had volunteered to provide cheesecakes for dessert, claiming he wanted the chance to show off. Her three bridesmaids had wanted to contribute, so they were supplying drinks—alcoholic and non. One of the groomsmen was in a band and was eager to provide music. And the wife of the best man wanted to do an appetizer platter.
Clairy was doing two more of those, but they were at the bottom of a long list of things that had to be done before. She needed to shop for the ingredients for those other appetizers along with decorations, disposable plates, glasses, napkins, silverware, serving utensils and tablecloths.
She needed to be home in time to receive delivery of the tables and chairs she’d rented, as well as the flower arrangement she’d ordered to adorn the serving table, and the Congratulations On Your Engagement banner and helium-filled balloons.
She had to arrange all the tables and chairs, set everything out and decorate before the appetizers could be made. Then she would need to shower, dress and do her hair and makeup.
With all of that on her to-do list and details galore also running through her head, it seemed as if there wouldn’t be any room for thoughts of Quinn.
And yet he was there between every line on her list, there between each errand she ran and there without interruption as she worked alone in the quiet of the backyard that afternoon.
He’d done the impossible—talking about what had caused him to pursue her father as his mentor had opened up a soft spot in her for the little fatherless boy he’d been.
He’d let her see that he’d craved a father’s attention as much as she had. Maybe even more.
They’d both had grandfathers in their lives—hers as gruff as her father and offering not much more of a paternal relationship than the General, while Quinn had had a closer bond with his. But still, hurt by the General’s rejections and disregard for her, Clairy had merely sought refuge in her bedroom to lick her wounds. Quinn, on the other hand—and even with comfort from his grandfather—had toughed it out with the General. He’d taken Mac’s harshest treatment in order to have contact with him, time with him.
Granted, she hadn’t had that option because her father had ordered her to go away whenever she’d tried to do anything with him, or with him and Quinn. But she’d spied on enough of Quinn’s training to have witnessed just how exacting it had been and wondered why he just didn’t go home and never come back, why he’d kept coming back day after day, visit after visit.
In her years of counseling family members left behind by veterans they’d lost, Clairy had seen more than a fair share of kids who had longed for that lost parent and the attention they would have received from them to somehow be replaced, for that hole in their lives to be filled.
She’d seen misbehavior and acting out in a destructive way. She’d seen kids who tried too hard to please, sometimes to the point of courting danger. She’d seen kids trying to excel in order to be noticed—to their benefit when the achievements stacked up, to their emotional detriment if they failed again and again.
And not once had she pieced together that Quinn might have been one of those kids. But now she was beginning to think that he was.
Fortunately for him, he’d fallen into the group of stacking up achievements rather than failures, and for his sake, she was glad. But her heart still went out to the little fatherless boy who had felt compelled to take the worst the General had to offer.
And, yes, that had made something shift in her—it had raised compassion for him for the first time, opening up that soft spot she’d recognized last night.
But was that what had led to that kiss?
Going into the evening with him, she’d thought that she’d had control over that. She’d been sure it wouldn’t even cross her mind the way it had at the end of Monday night.
Instead, rather than merely thinking about kissing, it had happened. And she definitely hadn’t been thinking of him as a little fatherless boy when it had.
But what if compassion and that soft spot for him had paved the way for more?
For attraction she didn’t want to admit to. Attraction she had to be careful with.
After all, what had driven him to come between her and her father—and despite the fact that she was coming to see more and more that her father bore most of the blame—didn’t excuse Quinn of everything, she thought as she spread tablecloths on all the tables.
Yes, she might have discovered she could forgive the actions of the very young Quinn, but there had also been spite and meanness in the way teenage Quinn had treated her, and for that he didn’t get a free pass.
In fact, she knew she should be extra cautious because how much of that mean, spiteful, arrogant, heartless teenager might have carried over into the man?
“You should have thought about that last night before you kissed him. It might have stopped you,” she told herself.
But would anything have stopped her?
Something needed to, she decided, even though rather than regretting that kiss, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since it had happened. Any more than she’d been able to keep from wanting to do it again.
And she’d already been thinking about him constantly. Falling asleep every night picturing him, fantasizing about him. On top of the fact that spending hours and hours with him still didn’t seem like enough.
But what if the spiteful, mean, arrogant teenager hadn’t stuck with grown-up Quinn and the man he’d become was not only a feast for the eyes, but also a genuinely good guy underneath it—the way Marabeth thought Brad had turned out?
Clairy wasn’t quite sure where that notion had come from as she opened folding chairs around the tables, but she knew that thinking about that possibility certainly wasn’t a good way to tamp down on an attraction to Quinn! It wouldn’t leave much to resist, would it?
When she really considered the likelihood of such a drastic change in him, though, she couldn’t actually believe it. Not when she recalled just how badly he’d treated her.
And none of it mattered, anyway, because it wasn’t as if he was a prospect for a relationship, she reasoned as she finished setting up the serving table and went for the ladder in order to string up the banner and balloons.
A relationship?
Was that what these thoughts were inching toward?
“Oh, Clairy...” she said to herself with a sigh. “You can’t be entertaining the slightest idea of a relationship—not now and not with Quinn Camden.”
But the very outlandishness of that possibility made it occur to her that all of these feelings could very well be a postdivorce ripple.
She’d also done marriage and divorce counseling for veterans, for the spouses of veterans. And she’d seen divorce among friends. She knew there were many things that could show up in the aftermath of a split, including a desire to fill the gap with a new person, a new romance, a new relationship.
No, she wasn’t aware of feeling any of that, but th
at didn’t necessarily mean it wasn’t simmering somewhere in her subconscious.
Especially when her marriage had turned into a situation so similar to her childhood and she’d found herself overlooked and inconsequential again.
That had to be factoring in, she realized.
Here she was, coming out of a divorce from a man who had barely been aware of her for almost the entirety of their marriage, and she was now spending time with someone who was drop-dead gorgeous and was paying attention to her, putting effort into getting to know her and clearly not overlooking her.
No matter what kind of a jerk he’d once been.
All she needed to do was ride out what was nothing more than the first postdivorce phase and stop making it a big deal.
By the time the outside was ready for guests and she’d moved into the kitchen to make hors d’oeuvres, she had herself convinced that was all that was going on with her and she didn’t need to worry about whatever she was feeling toward Quinn.
And not only was this merely phase one, she decided as she hollowed out cherry peppers and stuffed them with cream cheese and prosciutto, this whole thing with him had a short shelf life because—like her father—Quinn being here was only a temporary thing. A visit on leave.
After which he would return to duty, her life would go on, and that would be that.
So whether or not she’d forgiven him or found compassion for him, whether or not she had a soft spot for him, whether or not he’d evolved into the most wonderful man on earth, it didn’t make any difference. It wasn’t even of any consequence if she was fixating on him a little for the moment—it was probably just therapeutic.
And if she needed something to keep her grounded in reality, she reminded herself of the one thing she did know about Quinn—he was military through and through. Like her father. Which meant that he was devoted to the marines in a way he would never be as devoted to anything or anyone else.
It was what she’d suffered as a kid, what she’d blamed—as much as she’d blamed Quinn—for not having all she should have had with the General. It was what she’d experienced again in her marriage, despite the fact that Jared was a civilian. He’d been devoted to something other than her, too. And that had confirmed in spades that she didn’t ever want to be in any other relationship where she was second fiddle—not to the military or anything else.
Twice was enough.
As she finished the second appetizer tray of fresh vegetables with a spicy Southwestern vegetable dip to go along with them, she felt as if what was happening when it came to Quinn was more containable and less worrisome.
So she was going to worry less about it and contain it more.
And yet still, as she checked the time and rushed upstairs to shower and get ready for the party, she couldn’t stop thinking about Quinn.
She couldn’t stop wanting to be with him.
And there she was, with the hope that he might kiss her again causing a flash of excitement to run through her.
“It’s just phase one and it will pass,” she reassured herself.
But before it did, should she or shouldn’t she indulge?
* * *
Everyone seemed to have a great time at the engagement party. The food was a big hit, there were toasts and congratulation speeches galore, sing-alongs with the band and so many engagement gifts that they filled the back seat when they were all loaded into Marabeth’s car.
Marabeth’s aunt cleaned up all the barbecue paraphernalia she’d brought with the food. Her uncle left Clairy half a cheesecake, but otherwise took away everything else he’d provided.
Marabeth’s cousin owned the rental shop where the tables and chairs had come from, and before leaving, Maxwell folded them, loaded everything into the back of his truck and took them away.
Marabeth wanted the balloons. The band packed their own gear and in the process dislodged the banner, which Marabeth also took as a memento. Ultimately, Clairy was left with a lot of full trash bags and some cleaning to do when everyone cleared out.
Everyone except Quinn.
Clairy thought that might have been as part of his suggestion the previous evening that they attend the party as each other’s dates. There hadn’t been much of tonight that had even given them the opportunity to speak to each other, but maybe he still felt obliged—in his role as her date—to insist on staying to help clean up.
Nothing she said could dissuade him, so she finally gave in.
As Clairy took in the last of the food, Quinn carried all the trash bags out to the curb for Thursday’s pickup.
Then he joined her in the kitchen.
But rather than addressing the dishes in the sink or what littered the kitchen table, Clairy said, “I can do the rest of this in the morning. I’m ready to take off these shoes and have my piece of cheesecake—want some?”
She was still on the fence about whether or not to indulge in any more of the things she was fantasizing about when it came to Quinn. But what she was sure of was that after an entire evening of just being two ships passing in the night, she wasn’t nearly as ready to say goodbye to him as she had been to everyone else.
In fact, when she’d been offered that half a cheesecake, she’d said yes mainly as bait, with just this moment in mind.
“Sounds good—I didn’t get around to dessert, either,” Quinn answered, leaving her with no clue whether he wanted a few more minutes with her, too, or just the cheesecake.
But Clairy remained glad he was there as she turned off the backyard lights and went to the refrigerator.
“It’s still so warm out,” she said. “How about if we sit on the front porch?”
“Sure,” he agreed.
Clairy cut two pieces of super-creamy cheesecake, ladled raspberry puree over the tops and added a spoonful of fresh berries and mint to them.
“Spoons or forks, and where do I find them?” Quinn inquired.
“Spoons, I think, so we don’t lose any of this sauce I’ve been hearing about all night. And they’re in that drawer next to the fridge,” she instructed, taking a dessert plate in each hand as Quinn opened the drawer and retrieved utensils.
Clairy led him from the kitchen to the front of the house. While she kicked off her sandals at the foot of the stairs, Quinn opened the screen door.
“There’s only the swing, but it’s big enough for both of us,” she said, handing him a slice of cheesecake and accepting the spoon he traded it for once they were outside.
Then Clairy went to the padded swing hanging at one end of the porch.
“Oh, that feels good,” she moaned in more rapture than was called for by merely getting off her feet, making Quinn grin a slightly ribald grin as he propped one hip on the railing nearby.
“Don’t you want to sit down?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, making her wonder if he wanted to keep some space between them.
If that was the purpose, it was slightly disheartening to her.
But there was compensation in the fact that they weren’t sitting side by side: she got to look at him.
He was dressed in a pair of gray slacks tonight, with a lighter gray shirt, the long sleeves rolled up past his forearms.
She liked seeing him in civvies. He might not look quite as rugged as he did in everything else, but there was no less appeal in the more refined version. And the well-groomed scruff kept him from looking too polished.
Since she had the swing to herself, she pivoted slightly on the seat so the full view was unhampered.
Tonight she’d chosen to wear a flowered sundress with a square-cut neckline so wide it barely covered her shoulders and only allowed for a built-in bra in the tight-fitting bodice that attached to a large circle skirt.
Not only was there a considerable amount of fabric forming the circle, but the skirt also hit just above her ankles. She d
raped it demurely over her legs and feet when she tucked them under one hip.
Once she was settled, she discovered Quinn watching her. Until she caught him—then he averted his gaze to his plate and tasted the cheesecake.
“Woo, old Manuel has reason to brag about this,” Quinn commented.
“He told me when he offered to bring dessert that his cheesecake recipe is the best in the state—maybe in the country or the whole world,” Clairy explained with some humor, quoting the older man’s own words.
“I think he might be right,” Quinn said, going in for another spoonful as Clairy began to eat hers.
“The sauce, too,” she said with a mock swoon at the sweet-tangy puree. “He said I’d be sorry if I didn’t let him bring that to put over the cheesecakes and he wasn’t kidding.”
As they went on relishing the treat, Quinn said, “It was a nice party.”
“It seemed like everyone had a pretty good time.”
“Seemed that way to me, too. How ’bout you? Did you enjoy it?”
“I did,” Clairy said. “Did you?”
“I liked catching up with people I haven’t seen in years. Seemed like you were getting bombarded with the same couple of questions I was, though, about what you’ve been up to since you left Merritt—that got a little old.”
“Oh, yeah!” Clairy confirmed vigorously. “Only it’s common knowledge that I’m back after getting divorced, so they were coming at you in a different tone than they were coming at me. You were getting the tell-me-about-your-adventures tone, and I was getting a whole lot of poor-Clairy stuff or fishing for dirt.”
“Yeah, I heard that whenever I was in earshot of you,” he replied, commiserating with her.
And he’d been within earshot most of the evening because it had almost seemed as if he was trying to get to her side the whole night.
Or was she just imagining that?
Regardless, he hadn’t been too successful. He’d been the person everyone wanted to talk to, and most of the time she’d seen him headed for her, someone had waylaid him.
The Major Gets it Right Page 10