The diversion worked exactly as she hoped. Easton’s expression of concern slid into something else entirely, something stark and painful.
“A few hours.” Her hand shook a little as she set the last slice of cheesecake on a small serving plate. “He’s catching a plane out of Salt Lake City to Central America at noon tomorrow, so he’ll be leaving in the early hours of the morning.”
Tess covered her hand and Easton gave her an anguished look.
“Without Jo here, I don’t know if he’ll ever come back. Or Quinn, for that matter. Brant at least has his own ranch up the canyon so I’m sure I’ll at least see him occasionally. But the other two...” Her voice trailed off. “Nothing will be the same without Aunt Jo.”
Tess pulled Easton into a hug. “It won’t be the same,” she agreed. “But you’re still here. They’ll come back for you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“They will.” Tess gave her friend a little shake. “Anyway, Jo would be the first one to tell you to seize every moment. They might not be back for a while but they’re here now. Don’t sour the joy you can find tonight with them by stewing about what might be coming tomorrow.”
“You must be channeling Jo now. I can almost hear her in my head saying exactly those same words.”
“Then you’d better listen.” Tess smiled.
Easton sighed. “We’d better get this cheesecake out there before they come looking for us.”
“Can you give me a minute? I need some water, but I’ll be right out.”
Easton gave her a searching look. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Tess forced a smile. “Of course. You’ve got three men waiting for dessert out there. You’d better hurry.”
After a pause, Easton nodded and carried the tray with the cheesecake slices out to the dining room.
When she was alone in the bright, cheery kitchen, Tess leaned against the counter and fought the urge to cover her face with her hands and weep.
She was a terrible liar. Lucky for her, Easton was too wrapped up in her own troubles to pay close attention.
She absolutely wasn’t okay, and she had a sinking feeling she wouldn’t be for a long, long time.
I’m not interested in something long-term right now with Quinn or anyone else.
It was a wonder Jo didn’t rise up and smite her for telling such a blatant fib in the middle of her kitchen.
Finally, she admitted to herself the truth she had been fighting for two days. Longer, probably. The truth that had been hovering just on the edges of her subconscious.
She was in love with him.
With Quinn Southerland, who planned to blow out of her life like the south wind in the morning.
She loved the way his mouth quirked up at the edges when he teased her about something. She loved his tender care of Jo in her final days and his deep appreciation of the family and home he had found here. She loved the strength and honor that had carried him through incredible trauma as a boy.
She loved the way he made her feel, cherished and beautiful and wanted, and the heat and abandon she experienced in his arms.
And she especially loved that he knew the very worst parts of her and wanted to spend time with her anyway.
Whatever was she going to do without him in her world? Just the thought of going through the motions after he returned to Seattle left her achy and heartsore.
She knew she would survive. What other choice did she have?
That didn’t mean she wanted to. Hadn’t she faced enough heartache? Just once in her life, couldn’t things work out the way she wanted?
Fighting back a sob, she moved to the sink and poured a glass of water so she could convince herself she hadn’t completely prevaricated to Easton.
She thought of her advice to her friend a few moments earlier.
Don’t sour the joy you can find in today by stewing about what might be coming tomorrow.
She couldn’t ruin these last few hours with him by anticipating the pain she knew waited for her around the corner.
* * *
Something was wrong.
He never claimed to be the most perceptive of men when it came to the opposite sex, but even he could tell Tess was distracted and troubled after dinner when he drove her back from the ranch to town.
She said little, mostly gazed out the window at the lights flickering in the darkness, few and far between in Cold Creek Canyon and becoming more concentrated as he approached the town limits.
He glanced over at her profile, thinking how serenely lovely she was. He supposed her pensiveness was rubbing off on him because he still couldn’t quite process the surreal twist his life had taken these past few days.
If Brant or Cisco—or Easton, even—had told him before he came back to town that he would wrap up his visit to Pine Gulch in Tess Jamison Claybourne’s bed, he would have thought it was some kind of a strange, twisted joke.
Until he showed up at the ranch a few weeks ago, he honestly hadn’t thought of her much in years. He was too busy working his tail off building his business to waste much time or energy on such an unimportant—though undeniably aggravating—part of his past.
On the rare occasions when thoughts of her did filter through his mind for whatever reason, they were usually tainted with acrimony and disdain.
In these past weeks, she had become so much more to him.
Quinn let out a breath. He had tried to avoid examining those fragile, tender feelings too carefully. He appreciated her care for Jo, admired the strength she had demonstrated through her own personal tragedy, found her incredibly sexy.
He didn’t want to poke and prod more deeply than that, afraid to unravel the tangled mess of his feelings.
He did know he didn’t want to leave her or the haven he had found in her arms.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he turned down the street toward her house. For two weeks, his associates had taken the helm of Southerland Shipping. Quinn ought to be ecstatic at the idea of jumping right back into the middle of the action. Strategizing, making decisions, negotiating contracts. It was all in his blood, the one thing he found he was good at, and he had certainly missed the work while he had been at Winder Ranch.
But every time he thought about saying goodbye to Tess, he started to feel restless and uneasy and he had no idea why.
He pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine to his rented SUV.
“You probably want to be with the others,” she said, her voice low. “I don’t mind if we say goodbye now.”
Something remarkably like panic fluttered through him. “Are you that anxious to be rid of me?”
She turned wide green eyes toward him. “No. Nothing like that! I just... I assumed you would want to spend your last few hours in town with your friends,” she said, a vulnerable note to her voice that shocked him.
Though he had already said his farewells to the others when he left the house, with lots of hugs and backslapping, he considered taking the out she was offering him. Maybe he ought to just gather his few belongings from her house and head back to bunk at the ranch for the night. That made perfect sense and would help him begin the process of rebuilding all those protective walls around his emotions.
But he had a few more hours in Pine Gulch and he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her yet.
“I’d like to stay.”
He said the words as more of a question than a statement. After an endless moment when he was quite certain she was going to tell him to hit the road, she nodded, much to his vast relief, and reached for his hand.
A soft, terrifying sweetness unfurled inside him at the touch of her hand in his.
How was he going to walk away in a few hours from this woman who had in a few short weeks become so vi
tally important to him? He didn’t have the first idea.
Chapter Fourteen
She didn’t release his hand, even as she unlocked her door to let them both inside. When he closed the door behind him, she kissed him with a fierce, almost desperate, hunger.
They didn’t even make it past her living room, clawing at clothes, ripping at buttons, tangling mouths with a fiery passion that stunned him.
They had made love in a dozen different ways over the past few days—easy, teasing, urgent, soft.
But never with this explosive heat that threatened to consume them both. She climaxed the instant he entered her and he groaned as her body pulsed around him and followed her just seconds later.
He kissed her, trying to memorize every taste and texture as she clutched him tightly to her. To his amazement, after just a few moments, his body started to stir again inside her and he could feel by her response that she was becoming aroused again.
He carried her to the bedroom and took enough time to undress both of them, wondering if he would ever get enough of her silky curves and the warm, sweet welcome of her body.
This time was slow, tender, with an edge of poignancy to it that made his chest ache. Did she sense it, too? he wondered.
They tasted and touched for a long time, until both of them were breathless, boneless. She cried out his name when she climaxed and he thought she said something else against his shoulder but he couldn’t understand the words.
When he could breathe again and manage to string together two semi-coherent thoughts, he pulled her close under the crook of his arm, memorizing the feel of her—the curves and hollows, the soft delight of her skin.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” he murmured again.
Instead of smiling or perhaps expressing the same regret, she froze in his arms and then pulled away.
Though her bedroom was well-heated against the October chill, he was instantly cold, as he watched her slip her slender arms through the sleeves of her silky green robe that matched her eyes.
“Are you lying for my sake or to appease your own guilt?” she finally asked him.
He blinked, disoriented at the rapid-fire shift from tender and passionate to this unexpected attack that instantly set him on the defensive.
“Why do I have to be lying?”
“Come on, Quinn,” she said, her voice almost sad. “We both know you’re not sorry. Not really.”
He bristled. “When did you become such an expert on what’s going on inside my head?”
“I could never claim such omnipotent power. Nor would I want it.”
Okay. He absolutely did not understand how a woman’s mind worked. How could she pick a fight with him after the incredible intensity they just shared? Was she just trying to make their inevitable parting easier?
“If you could see inside my head,” he answered carefully, “you would see I meant every word. I do wish I didn’t have so many obligations waiting for me back in Seattle. These past few days have been...peaceful and I don’t have much of that in my life.”
She gazed at him, her features tight with an expression he didn’t recognize. After a moment, her prickly mood seemed to slide away and she smiled, though it didn’t quite push away that strange, almost bereft look in her eyes.
“I’m happy for that, Quinn. You deserve a little peace in your life and I’m glad you found it here.”
She paused and looked away from him. “But we both knew from the beginning that this would never be anything but temporary.”
Whenever he let himself think beyond the wonder of the moment, the shared laughter and unexpected joy he found with her, he had assumed exactly that—this was supposed to be a short-term relationship that wouldn’t extend beyond these few magical days.
Hearing the words from her somehow made the reality seem more bluntly desolate.
“Does it have to be?”
“Of course,” she answered briskly. “What other option is there?”
He told himself that wasn’t hurt churning through him at her dismissal of all they had shared and at the potential for them to share more.
“Portland is only a few hours from Seattle. We could certainly still see each other on the weekends.”
She tightened the sash on her robe with fingers that seemed to tremble slightly. From the cold? he wondered. Or from something else?
“To what end?” she asked. “Great sex and amusing conversation?”
Despite his turmoil, he couldn’t resist arching an eyebrow. “Something wrong with either of those?”
Her laugh sounded rough. “Not at all. Believe me, I’ve become a big fan of both these past few days.”
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her robe and drew in a deep breath, as if steeling herself for unpleasantness. “But I’m afraid neither is enough for me.”
That edgy disquiet from earlier returned in full force and he was aware of a pitiful impulse to beg her not to push him from her life.
He wouldn’t, though. He had a sudden, ugly flashback of his mother at the dinner table trying desperately to catch his father’s attention any way she could. New earrings, new silverware, a difficult new recipe. Only until she managed to push one of his father’s hot buttons would he even notice her, and then only to rant and rail and sometimes worse.
He pushed it away. He certainly wasn’t his mother trying desperately in her own sick way to make someone care who wasn’t really capable of it. Tess was not like his father. She had a deep capacity for love. He had seen it with Jo, even Easton and Brant and Cisco.
Why else would she have stayed with an invalid husband for so long?
But maybe she couldn’t care for him. Maybe he didn’t deserve someone like her....
“I want more,” she said quietly, interrupting the grim direction of his thoughts. “All I wanted when I was a girl was a home and a family and a husband who cherished me. I wanted what my parents had. They held hands in the movies and whispered secrets to each other in restaurants and hid love notes for each other all around the house. My mom’s still finding them, years after Dad died. That’s what I wanted.”
He was silent. If not for the years he spent with Jo and Guff seeing just that sort of relationship, he would have had absolutely no frame of reference to understand what she was talking about, but the Winders had shared a love like that, deep and rich and genuine.
“I thought I found that with Scott,” Tess went on, “but fate had other plans and things didn’t turn out quite the way I dreamed.”
“I’m sorry.” He meant the words. He hated thinking of her enduring such loss and pain as a young bride.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said quietly. “But that time in my life is over. I’m ready to move forward now.”
“I can understand that. But why can’t you move forward with me? We have something good here. You know we do.”
She was silent for a long time and he thought perhaps he was making progress on getting her to see his point of view. But when she spoke, her voice was low and sad.
“Easton told me tonight that when you were younger, you vowed you were never getting married.”
“What a guy says when he’s fifteen and what he says when he’s thirty-four are two very different things,” he said, though he had said that very same sentiment to Jo in the garden at Winder Ranch just a few weeks ago.
She sat on the bed and he didn’t miss the way she was careful to keep plenty of space between them. “Okay, tell me the truth. Say we continue to see each other for those weekends you were talking about. Look ahead several months, maybe a year, with a few days a month of more of that great sex and amusing conversation.”
“I can do that,” he said, and spent several very pleasant seconds imagining kissing her on the dock of his house on Mercer Island, of taking her
up in his boat for a quick run to Victoria, of standing beside the ocean on the Oregon Coast at a wonderfully romantic boutique hotel he knew in Cannon Beach.
“So here it is a year in the future,” she said, dousing his hazy fantasies like a cold surf. “Say we’ve seen each other exclusively for that time and have come to...to care about each other. Where do you see things going from there?”
“I don’t know. What do you want me to see?”
“Marriage. Family. Can you ever even imagine yourself contemplating a forever sort of relationship with me or anyone else?”
Marriage. Kids. A dog. Panic spurted through him. Though Jo and Guff had shared a good marriage and he had spent a few years watching their example, for most of his childhood, marriage had meant cold silences alternated with screaming fights and tantrums, culminating in terrible violence that had changed his world forever.
“Maybe,” he managed to say after a moment. “Who’s to say? That would be a long way in the future. Why do we have to jump from here to there in an instant?”
Her sigh was heavy, almost sad. “I saw that panic in your eyes, Quinn. You can’t even consider the idea of it in some long-distant future without being spooked.”
“That could change. I don’t see why we have to ruin this. Why can’t we just enjoy what we have in the moment?”
She didn’t answer him right away. “You know, brain injuries are peculiar, unpredictable things,” she finally said, baffling him with the seemingly random shift in topic.
“Are they?”
“The same injury in the same spot can affect two people in completely different ways. For the first two or three years after Scott’s accident, all the doctors and specialists kept telling me not to give up hope, that things would get better. He could still improve and start regaining function some day.”
Through his confusion, Quinn’s heart always ached when he thought of Tess facing all that on her own.
“I waited and hoped and prayed,” she went on. “Through all those years and promises, I felt as if I were frozen in the moment, that the world went on while I was stuck in place, waiting for something that never happened.”
Safe Harbor: A Cold Creek Homecoming Page 34