A Risk Worth Taking

by Victoria James

  Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours had been laced with the bittersweet warning against loving too deeply. She knew how this would end, even if Quinn didn’t. Which was why she needed to go back to Toronto.

  Quinn’s eyes opened slowly, and Holly held her breath. Her heart constricted painfully as his hand immediately went to smooth Ella’s hair. And then his eyes landed on hers, filled with the emotion that she wanted to run from. He was the man that she could never forget—hard and strong, combined with that mix of tenderness that only he could pull off so well. He made her want to give up her solitary existence, abandon her career in Toronto. He made her want to believe that people stayed, that people lived, that love could conquer everything.

  “Morning,” he whispered, his voice deliciously low and smooth.

  “Morning,” Holly answered, pulling the duvet up and tucking it under her chin.

  “She slept through the rest of the night,” Quinn said over Ella’s gentle snoring.

  Holly nodded. “She doesn’t even look like she has a fever anymore,” she whispered.

  “Didn’t I tell you everything would be okay?”

  Holly bit down on her tongue until it hurt.

  “Holly?” Quinn said, frowning when she didn’t answer.

  “You’re right.” She nodded.

  “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” he asked, reaching out to smooth her hair off her face.

  Holly felt the sting of tears as she looked into his eyes. She was about to cry.

  “You know what, why don’t I put Ella in her crib and then come back, okay?” he asked, carefully rising from the bed. He walked out of the room, not waiting for her reply. And before Holly had a chance to panic, he was back.

  “She actually went to sleep?” Holly asked.

  He nodded. “Poor thing is wiped,” he said, joining her in bed. “And I think you are, too.” He lifted her hand to his lips, his touch offering her safety, beckoning her honesty. Holly traced the hard line of his shoulder, his strength, his heat, reminding her that he was real, that Quinn was here.

  “What are you so afraid of, Holly?”

  “Everything,” she answered.

  Quinn frowned slightly, shifting so that he propped himself on his elbow, his hand still locked with hers. “Tell me,” he said softly, but with enough force in his voice that Holly knew he wasn’t going to let it drop. She turned to him, not wanting to hide, wanting to confide in the man that had always made her feel safe.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “What?”

  “This,” she whispered, waving her hands between them. “This pretend family thing.”

  “It doesn’t have to be pretend,” he said, brushing her hair off her shoulder. Holly fought the urge to pull away from him, to get out of the bed and put as much distance between them as possible.

  “I’m not her mother. I can’t pretend to be.”

  “Whoa,” he said harshly. “You are her mother now. What happened was horrible. But you are here and Ella is here—”

  “I’m not a parent,” Holly said, clenching her hands into fists around the sheet.

  “You are.”

  She shook her head rapidly. “No. No. I’m not a mom. I will never be. I’m nothing like Jennifer,” she said, pausing to suck in some air. “I cut her. That first week, I had to clip Ella’s nails and I cut the skin,” she gushed, a hiccup escaping her lips. “Look what happened last night. I was useless. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be a mom. What happens when she goes to school and it’s Mother’s Day and they make those little cards for their moms? What if she hates me, what if she tells me—”

  “Did you hate your grandmother?”

  Holly stared past him, looking at the fireplace. He didn’t get it. “Of course not.”

  “And when you were in school and it was Mother’s Day, did you make a card for your grandmother instead?”

  Holly nodded, feeling tears begin to tease the back of her eyes and deep in her throat.

  “She’s going to love you. No, she already loves you, and one day when she’s old enough to understand, you’ll show her pictures of Jen and Rick, and you’ll tell her how much they loved her. But you are her family now. You’ve done everything for Ella. And she loves you. And when she’s old enough and you tell her about Jen and Rick, she’s still going to love you. You’re not Jen, you’re you. And she will always love you. Holly,” he said, looking into her eyes, “stay here. Stay here and give us a chance.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head and trying to get up. His hand clamped down on her wrist just hard enough that she knew he meant business. His jaw was clenched and his eyes glittered. “Stop running away,” he said harshly.

  Holly held his gaze, not backing down an inch. She was running. She knew she was. But it was her choice. She was the one who had to figure out how to survive. He couldn’t do it for her. She yanked her arm free of his grasp, the air cool on the skin that was once warmed by his touch.

  “I can’t stay here. I have a job to get back to. I have a home in Toronto, a job, a life. This is not my house—”

  “How can you believe that? Of course this is your house.”

  Holly shook her head. “I already explained this to you. It was supposed to be Jen and Rick’s. They should be here, not me.”

  Quinn just stared at her, his expression impassive. “You know this is what they’d want, don’t you? And you know this is what you want. This is your home, Holly. This is your town, filled with your friends. It’s where you belong.”

  Holly looked away from the sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t know where my home is anymore, Quinn, and I don’t know what they would have wanted.”

  “You do know. Deep down, under all that tough-woman front, you know that your sister would have wanted you to be around people who love you, and who could love their daughter. She would have wanted you to be in the house she thought was perfect for their little girl. She loved you, and she’d want you to be where you are loved.”

  “Please stop,” Holly whispered, hating that he was bringing up thoughts that she tried so hard to keep at bay. “I can’t talk about this,” she said, sitting up. “Why do we have to talk about all this? Why can’t we just enjoy each other’s company?”

  “Because I don’t just want to make love to you. I want you—for the long haul. I want you and Ella. I want you to stay here and marry me.”

  Holly stopped breathing for the briefest of seconds. He couldn’t mean it. But the truth was in every line of his face, in the glint of his eyes.

  The rain pattered soothingly against the windows, and the fireplace silently absorbed the dampness in the room. Holly didn’t move as Quinn sat up and took her hand, raising it to his lips, kissing it until her breath quickened. The sheet was bunched around his waist, his torso bare. She took in the strong lines, the bronzed skin of his muscled chest and shoulders, the lines of his biceps clearly defined when he reached out to cup her face.

  “Marry me,” he said in a thick voice that made Holly’s eyes fill with tears.

  Marry me. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as his words stopped everything inside her. Holly wanted to say something. She wanted to tell him the truth, that she was scared. A few years ago, she would have said yes. She would have let him in and taken that leap of faith. But now…now, if she stayed here, she’d fall so completely and totally in love with Quinn, and she’d have this fairy-tale idea of happily-ever-after. And when it shattered, she wouldn’t be able to pick up the pieces of herself again. She’d done that too many times, and every time she did, she came back a little less whole.

  Holly shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “Nothing lasts, and I couldn’t recover—”

  “Why wouldn’t we last?” he asked, reaching out to touch her cheekbone, his thumb grazing her skin. She wanted to fold herself into him and not think about any of this.

/>   “Can’t we just spend the weekend together? I want to enjoy this, I want to enjoy us. Why do we have to talk about this now? Please, Quinn,” she said, and breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a slow, gentle kiss.

  “I just asked you to marry me, even though I swore I’d never get married again. And now here I am putting myself out there, and you tell me let’s just enjoy ourselves?”

  Holly’s eyes widened, and she tried her hardest not to cry.

  “What happens when you leave?” she whispered.

  Quinn frowned. “Leave?”

  She nodded. “If things don’t work—”

  “I don’t leave. I won’t leave. Things will work.”

  “What about when something happens to you? I almost didn’t make it when Jen and Rick died. I wanted to shrivel up in a ball and stay there forever. But I couldn’t because I had Ella to take care of. But if I’m here, I’m going to grow closer and closer to you every day. And I’m going to start relying on you and depending on you. And loving you,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “If something happened to you, Quinn, I wouldn’t survive.”

  Quinn’s gut twisted painfully. Holly’s eyes were wide, weary, her face drawn. He fought the urge to reach out and hold her, to destroy whatever demons she was afraid of. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you. Nothing is going to happen to Ella,” he said forcefully, believing it with all he had. He needed her to believe it, too, before she ruined everything, before she shut him out.

  “I have to go back,” she whispered, and he knew she meant Toronto.

  Quinn swallowed the curse in his mouth. He knew she was making a mistake. But he also knew she needed to be the one to figure that out. He nodded slowly and reached out to cup her face in his hands. “You waited ten years for me, Holly. I’ll wait for you, for as long as it takes. I love you,” he whispered.

  Holly shook her head, then squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead on his chest. And when her arms slipped around him, her hands climbing his back, her nails digging into his skin, he physically tried to absorb her pain. Her head dipped down to just below his collarbone and hovered for a moment before he felt her mouth on his skin. Her hair tickled his chest and she began a slow, torturous descent with her lips and tongue.

  “Come here,” he implored, his hands firmly grasping her head, then her waist, lifting her on top of him, all his self control focused on filling her until she didn’t feel empty, until she knew that he could make her whole again.

  Chapter Ten

  Quinn was on his way to buy Ella some cupcakes. Tomorrow night was the big reveal and birthday party, and he was dying to see her. He missed her. He missed her smile and her laugh. And he missed the way her little arms wrapped themselves around his neck, the way she reached out for his hand. And the way her faith in him made him feel whole again. He had convinced himself he wasn’t worthy of having kids. He had blamed himself for so long, but now he was done. There was a little girl that he loved. He didn’t know how it happened, but when he was busy letting his guard down, Ella had found a way to reach him. To her, he was good enough, he was worthy. And he wasn’t going to let Holly derail everything they had.

  He understood why she was pushing him away. But that wasn’t good enough. Monday morning, after they’d made love, she’d shut down. But he’d known that was going to happen, he’d felt it when she clutched onto him in bed. When he’d walked out of her house that day, he had faith that she’d call. That was five days ago. He’d stayed away. He wasn’t going to push her, because he wanted her to come to him on her own. The remaining house details were minor so he’d left Jake in charge.

  But he missed Holly. She was stubborn, but he knew that what they had was one of a kind. Nights without her were torture. Days without her witty remarks and sexy smiles—even without her infuriating designer decisions—were tedious. Holly and Ella made him want to be the husband and father he now knew he was capable of being.

  He had spent the morning in the city, buying Ella her birthday gift. He’d been a little stumped at first—but when he’d entered the handmade toy shop, he knew what he was going to buy as soon as he saw it. The enormous, pale green dollhouse was perfect. It was made out of wood, with authentic, hand-carved details, complete with white gingerbread trim. Quinn bought the house, the miniature furniture, and some little figurine family called the Smiths. He knew Ella was a little young for it, but he couldn’t resist. And he had faith that in a couple of years, he’d be watching Ella play with it. And on his way out of the store, he took one look at the pink tool belt filled with children’s tools and purchased that, too.

  As he loaded all the stuff into the back of his truck, an antique jewelry store across the street caught his eye. He’d walked in there, knowing exactly what he wanted to do, what he should have done the moment Holly came back to town, really. Half an hour later, he was on his way back to Red River, with something for both of his girls.

  It had been a last-minute idea to get Ella some cupcakes. Quinn opened the door to the Water’s Edge Bakery, and a waft of cinnamon and fresh coffee greeted him.

  “Hey, Quinn,” Natalia Waters, the owner of the bakery, called out.

  “Hi, Nat, how are you?” He smiled, walking up to the counter. The place had a few patrons sipping coffees and eating, despite the lunch hour being over.

  “Good. Busy getting ready for Holly’s big party tomorrow night,” she said while arranging cookies in a pink box. He forced himself to keep his smile relaxed at the mention of Holly as he stood in front of the display. His eyes immediately went to the assortment of cupcakes lit up behind the glass.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” Natalia asked.

  “Yeah, uh, cupcakes actually,” Quinn said, bending down to peer closer. There were pink ones with pink flowers, red ones with ladybugs, yellow ones with butterflies, and green ones with caterpillars. How was he supposed to know which one Ella would like best? And then another thought popped into his head. “Nat, are these cupcakes all-natural?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yup, even the food coloring.”

  “Hello, Quinn.”

  Quinn’s body tensed and he slowly straightened to look at the owner of that smooth voice, even though he already knew.

  “Hi, Christine,” he said, clearing his throat.

  “I never had you pegged as a cupcake eater,” she said, smiling.

  Quinn smiled back. “They’re not for me. You’re looking well.” Christine was pretty in an I’m-so-delicate-that-I-can’t-even-stand-on-my-own-two-feet sort of way, very unlike the woman who had fallen off a ladder trying to prove how independent she was. She was tall, extremely thin, with, well, a rather disproportionately large head. It was absurd, but… Quinn blinked rapidly… Yes, she did resemble a lollipop. That ridiculous observation was thanks to Holly. But there was no way in hell he was going to admit that out loud to anyone. It was juvenile. Feminine. Pure Holly and Claire. He was embarrassed for even thinking about it.

  “Thank you. You, too,” she said primly. “So, who are the cupcakes for?”

  Quinn caught a flash of purple and pineapples from the corner of his eye as Eunice Jacobs practically dove into one of the armchairs at the front of the bakery. It was amazing, for all the woman’s bulk and age, that she could move so swiftly. “They’re, uh, for Holly’s niece,” he said. Now that Christine was here, he was going to use this opportunity. He wanted closure.

  “Chris, I’m sorry,” he began, lowering his voice and turning away from the counter. He could tell she was startled. Before she could ask why, he continued. “I hate how we left things, and I want you to know that the way I treated you isn’t something I’m proud of.” It was done. The words were out, and he could finally move on with a clean slate.

  …

  Holly stared at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the newly accessorized en suite. She should look happier. She was about to host Ella’s first bi
rthday party and an open house. The renovation was officially over. Her colleagues were coming from Toronto, and then next week, she’d be packing up to resume her normally scheduled life. So why did the thought of returning to her condo in the city, her glamorous office at Martin Laurence, sound…horrifying? One word…or, one man: Quinn.

  You waited ten years for me, Holly. I’ll wait for you. For as long as it takes. Quinn’s words and promises kept her up at night, wondering if there was a way they could be together. Could she take that leap of faith and stay here? Trust that she could have a happily-ever-after? He was so sure. He was certain they would last, that they would be safe. His faith tempted her. He had been right about a lot of things. Maybe he was right about this, too. In the last few days, Holly had picked up the phone so many times to call Martin and say she wasn’t coming back. But then she’d slam the phone down and berate herself. What was she thinking? How could she just throw away years of hard work for…for a life that sounded too good to be true? Quinn made it sound so easy. She could stay here and raise Ella—with Quinn. They could be a real family. And what better home could there be than the one that she had grown up in? But the house was officially going on the market tonight. She’d already signed the listing papers. And she’d already said no to Quinn.

  Holly ran a brush through her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders. She took a deep breath and smoothed the front of her navy silk dress that fell to just below her knees. The scooped neckline revealed her collarbone, but the real wow factor was that the dress was backless. Her strappy navy heels made her legs look long and added just the right amount of sensuality. Her arms were bare except for a silver linked bracelet that her grandmother had given her years ago. She clasped her hooped silver earrings and touched up her hair once again as she looked at herself in the mirror.