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Fated Love

Page 9

by Radclyffe


  “Uh...hello.”

  “Mandy, remember?” The blond’s tone suggested that she doubted anyone could forget.

  “Of course.” Perplexed, Quinn looked around, searching for a partner or child. There didn’t seem to be many unattached people at the party, although she didn’t really know anyone well enough to be certain.

  As if reading her mind, Mandy laughed and rested her fingertips on Quinn’s bare forearm. “I’m the anomaly in this gathering. A single lesbian without children.”

  Quinn couldn’t help but laugh. “Well then, that makes two of us.”

  “See there? We have something in common already, besides liking to work out and...” Mandy raised an eyebrow. “Other physical pursuits, I’ll bet.”

  “So,” Quinn said casually, “I take it that you’re a friend of Robin and Linda’s?”

  “Mmm. Believe it or not, I grew up right here in Germantown and still live just a block away. I ref in the soccer league.” Her fingers glided lightly up and down Quinn’s arm. “I’ve known Linda and Robin for ages.”

  “Small world, I guess.” Quinn realized that Mandy had slid even closer as they were speaking and felt the pressure of Mandy’s thigh against her own. She backed up as unobtrusively as possible.

  “I’m quite a bit younger than them, of course,” Mandy informed her, her lips parting in a slow smile. “And they’re so married.”

  “So...uh...you’re into soccer.” Quinn wasn’t in the mood to flirt. In fact, as attractive as Mandy was, Quinn didn’t have the slightest interest in pursuing anything further with her.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Mandy’s fingers trailed feather-light across Quinn’s abdomen. Her smile grew heavy at the swift contraction of the firm muscles. “I played quite a bit in high school. Plus, my dad owns the gym, so it’s good PR for the business if I’m involved.”

  “You like it?” The insistent touch was starting to get irritating.

  “Sure. There are always so many interesting women around.” Mandy stretched and pushed her hand through her hair, a practiced move that thrust her breasts forward. “It’s so nice to see someone extra special arrive on the scene, however.”

  As Mandy’s hand returned to her waist, Quinn backed up another step. “Uh-huh.”

  “Let’s go find someplace more private so we can have lunch together. I’ll even feed you with my fingers.”

  “Thanks,” Quinn said quickly. “But I’m eating with Honor and her family.”

  Mandy raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Honor and I work together.”

  “How nice.”

  Her tone, however, suggested that was anything but true.

  Honor walked into the kitchen and slammed the screen door.

  “You’re out of Coke. Robin said it was in here somewhere?”

  “You’re ticked off because we ran out of soda?” Linda, her hands covered with barbecue sauce this time, blew hair off her forehead and gestured with her chin to the pantry behind them. “Remind me again why I like to throw these parties? I haven’t been out of this kitchen for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”

  “There are plenty of people to help you, if you’d only ask.” Honor yanked open the pantry door. “Where? Never mind, I see it.”

  Linda rested her butt against the counter and wiped the worst of the sauce off with a paper towel, regarding Honor curiously. “Honor, honey? Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

  Honor spun around, two six-packs of Coke in her hands. “Do you really have to invite her to every one of these parties?”

  “Just a minute while I translate that.” Linda stared off into space. “Mandy’s here, and she’s annoying you already.”

  “She’s practically crawling into Quinn’s pants right in the middle of the lawn.”

  Linda was momentarily speechless, then she rushed to the door. “Where? Let me see.”

  “I swear to God, someone needs to put her on a leash.” Honor slammed the cans down on the table, rattling the bowls of food.

  Linda turned back, regarding Honor in amazement. “Are you still burned about something that happened ages ago? She was a child when she came on to Terry.”

  “She was not a child. She was eighteen years old. And she didn’t just come on to her, she cornered her at a party and kissed her!” Honor flushed at the memory. “If I’d caught her at it, I would’ve killed her.”

  “As I remember Terry’s version, it was over in a second, and she informed Mandy in no uncertain terms that she was off limits.” Linda recalled Terry recounting the story of Mandy catching her alone at a party, and Mandy’s shock when Terry had told her to go away. It had been funny then, and it was funny now, but she held back a laugh because Honor was clearly upset. She just wasn’t entirely certain what Honor was upset about. She’s practically crawling into Quinn’s pants... “Ah...”

  “Ah, what?”

  “Nothing,” Linda said quickly. “So, what’s Quinn doing?”

  “I have no idea, and I couldn’t care less.”

  “Ookaay. So, if you’re not going to be busy killing Mandy for a while, you want to help me with the chicken?”

  Honor stared at her and then at the piles of chicken parts, contemplating homicide. I’m losing my mind. “Sure. Give me a really big knife.”

  The two friends grinned at one another, then broke into laughter.

  Chapter Nine

  Quinn made her way through the crowd gathered around the barbecue grill to where Honor was arranging the food that Robin passed to her. There were two large platters nearly filled with chicken and burgers.

  “I hope you don’t mind that your...mother-in-law...invited me to have lunch with you,” Quinn said, feeling inexplicably shy. In the hospital, Dr. Quinn Maguire knew instinctively how to interact with Dr. Honor Blake. But this was different. Honor was different here; so was she. Outside the ER, Honor seemed unapproachable, remote—as if she didn’t want anyone, except Linda and Robin, too close. Quinn was used to maintaining emotional distance, most surgeons were. But all she wanted now was to find a way through Honor’s invisible shield, to get Honor to look at her with that special smile in her eyes. That longing for connection was new to her, and damn scary.

  “Why would I mind?” Honor said without looking up. She was still feeling off balance from the unexpected surge of anger evoked by seeing Quinn with Mandy. She’d almost been... jealous. And that was absurd.

  “I just didn’t want to intrude on your family time.” Quinn reached for the full platter of barbecue chicken. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  In a move that surprised them both, Honor wrapped her fingers around Quinn’s forearm, stopping her from moving away. She looked up into Quinn’s eyes and smiled. “It’s fine. It will be nice. And I’m sure Arly will be thrilled.”

  “Good, I’m looking forward to it.” Quinn’s heart beat triple-time, and for once, it was a wholly pleasant experience. “I’ll take this up to the table for you.”

  “Thanks. I think Arly and Phyllis have snagged seats under the tree.” Honor’s fingers drifted down over the top of Quinn’s hand in a light caress. She didn’t even realize she’d done it until she felt the faintest of tremors in Quinn’s arm and saw the blue of her eyes shade to purple. Honor’s voice came out husky and low. “I’ll be right there.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Quinn backed up a step, because as long as Honor was touching her, no matter how lightly, she wasn’t going to be able to move. “I’ll save you a seat.”

  Honor nodded appreciatively. You are a charmer, Quinn Maguire. “I don’t care if I sit on the ground. Just save me some food. I’m starving.”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’ll fix you a plate.” Quinn smiled, slow and easy. “You want a leg...or a breast?”

  Startled, Honor’s lips quirked and then she laughed out loud. “Wing.”

  Quinn laughed, too, glad that her hands were full, because she desperately wanted to run her thumb over the tiny cleft in Honor’s chin. She had to force h
erself to keep walking away. “See you in a minute.”

  After Quinn delivered the chicken and fixed a plate for Honor, she found Phyllis and Arly seated around a small glass table under a dark green canvas umbrella. They had paper plates piled with food, drinks in plastic cups, and happy smiles.

  “Hi, Quinn,” Arly said enthusiastically.

  Quinn settled in a lawn chair nearby and balanced her plate on her knee. “Hi, Arly. How’s it going?”

  “Great. I have a shiner.”

  “I see that,” Quinn agreed seriously, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward to take a quick look at the suture line. No swelling or redness, incision looks clean. “It’s very impressive.”

  “Yeah, and cool, too.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Honor picked up the plate from the chair next to Quinn and sat down. “Thanks for this.” She smiled at Arly. “We took a picture this morning for Arly’s scrapbook.”

  Quinn grinned. “Neat.”

  “That’s what I said, too,” Arly stated.

  “So, Quinn,” Phyllis interjected. “Where are you from?”

  “You mean, born?” At Phyllis’s nod, Quinn said, “Out near Pittsburgh. My father was a steelworker.”

  “No other doctors in the family, then?”

  “Not by a long shot.” Quinn shook her head, smiling. “My brothers are both steelworkers, just like my father and his father before him. My mother was a housewife.”

  “They must be very proud of you.”

  “I was a...surprise,” Quinn said noncommittally, thinking that her parents had never known quite what to make of her ambition or her accomplishments. “How about you, Ms. Murphy? Let me guess...you’re either a psychiatrist or a...private detective.”

  Phyllis laughed in delight. “First, you must call me Phyllis, and then you must tell me why you think that.”

  “Easy. You get people to talk about themselves without them realizing it, and you’re so charming they don’t mind when they do figure it out.”

  “Grandmom works at my school,” Arly informed her seriously as Phyllis laughed again.

  “Ah, a teacher?”

  “Once upon a time. I’m one of the assistant principals now,” Phyllis clarified. “Honor tells me you just started working at the hospital.”

  “Quinn just finished her training in Manhattan,” Honor explained.

  “I imagine this neighborhood is a real change after that,” Phyllis said.

  “Yes, but a very pleasant one.” Quinn gestured to the gathering. “This is not the kind of city living I’m used to.”

  “Mom.” Arly rested her hand on Honor’s knee. “Can I go back in swimming now?”

  “Are you done eating?”

  Arly nodded vigorously.

  “I think you’ll have to wait until everyone is done with lunch, so that we have people to watch the pool.”

  “Can I go get something out of the house?”

  “Ask Linda or Robin, honey,” Honor said. “It’s their house, and that’s polite. Okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  “So you’re a surgeon, Quinn,” Phyllis said, continuing her gentle questioning as Arly dashed off.

  Quinn flushed. “Actually, Ms. Mur—Phyllis, I’m an ER doc. I have surgical training, though.”

  “That must come in handy all the same.”

  Quinn glanced at Honor, who was staring at her plate. “Sometimes. I’m still getting the hang of things.”

  “I’m sure that won’t take long,” she said kindly.

  “I hope—”

  “Quinn,” Arly said eagerly as she skidded to a stop next to Quinn’s chair. “Do you want to play?”

  Quinn looked over and grinned when she saw the soccer ball that Arly eagerly extended. She glanced at Honor questioningly.

  “Up to you.”

  “Sure,” Quinn said as she stood and placed her hand lightly on the top of Arly’s head. She looked around and pointed to the lower part of the yard. “We’d better go down there, though, so we don’t end up kicking the ball into somebody’s lunch.”

  “Okay,” Arly replied, happily heading off with Quinn in her wake.

  “She’s very nice,” Phyllis observed as she watched the two of them go.

  “Should I ask about the third degree?” Honor set her plate aside and leaned back in her chair, observing Phyllis curiously.

  “I was just making conversation.”

  “I thought you were going to ask her whether she was single next.”

  “No.” Phyllis leaned over and picked up an uneaten chicken leg from Honor’s plate. “That was going to be my second question. First, I was going to ask her where she was living.”

  “Why are you so interested?”

  Phyllis met Honor’s gaze. “She seems interested in you.”

  Honor flushed, and despite the fact that she was used to Phyllis’s direct approach, she was disconcerted. “Nothing’s going on.”

  “I didn’t think there was, honey.” Phyllis looked around and found her iced tea. She picked up the glass and sipped. “Would you like there to be?”

  “No,” Honor said quickly. “No, not with anyone. But especially not her.”

  “Has she done something wrong?”

  Honor stood, looking across the heads of the people around her who were sitting and having lunch. Quinn and Arly were kicking the soccer ball back and forth to each other at the far end of the lawn. She could see her daughter laughing. “No, but there’s more to her than she’s telling. I’m not sure I...trust her.”

  “Ah. That’s a problem then.”

  “Yes, it is.” To Honor’s relief, she saw Robin headed their way and waved. She did not want to talk any more about Quinn Maguire or why she couldn’t help thinking that the surgeon was hiding something. She did not want to think about the way Quinn looked at her, or the way she felt with that steady, intense gaze upon her. She did not want to think about what she wanted, or didn't want, or feared having.

  Robin kissed Honor’s cheek. “Having a good time?”

  “Terrific. Great lunch, Robbie. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” Robin gave a satisfied sigh and looked around the yard. Linda was deep in conversation with the father of one of their daughter's classmates, probably coordinating carpooling schedules. Their two kids had joined most of the other children in the far back corner of the yard. “Quinn’s drawing quite a crowd.”

  “I know.” For the last few minutes, kids of all sizes had been making their way down to where Quinn and Arly were playing. Now it looked as if there was an impromptu soccer clinic in progress, with Quinn surrounded by the children, all of whom seemed to be watching her intently.

  “She’s like the Pied Piper,” Robin observed. “And she’s really good. I think I’m going to try recruiting her.”

  Before Honor could protest, Robin walked away.

  “You’ve got some good moves there, Quinn.”

  Quinn turned around and grinned at Robin. In a quiet voice she said, “It’s not too hard to look good when your toughest competition is nine years old.”

  Robin laughed. “Listen, we could use another coach for our team. Right now, we have two, but if one of us gets held up at work, it’s a lot for the other one to handle alone. What do you think?”

  “Me?” Quinn looked around at the milling, boisterous children. “Jeez, Robin, I don’t know. I don’t have any experience with kids.”

  “Looks like you’re doing really well to me. Besides, they're at an age when they still do pretty much whatever you tell them. They’re really an easy bunch.”

  “My schedule is kind of crazy at work.” Quinn’s tone was dubious as she struggled with the decision. She’d never been involved in anything like this before. It would be a significant responsibility, but then, she didn’t have anything else to do with her time. And she was having fun. “Okay, sure. If you don’t think it’ll be a problem if I miss a few practices.”

  “None at all.” Robin clapped her on the back.
“Excellent. Before you leave today, make sure I get your telephone numbers, and I’ll give you mine. If you’ve got a fax machine, I can send you the practice times and the game schedules.”

  “A fax machine?” Quinn laughed. “I’ve barely got silverware.”

  “I forgot you’re a bachelor.” She thought for minute. “I’ll give it all to Linda, and she can bring it to you at work.”

  “That’s good.”

  Arly came up to them and grabbed Quinn’s hand. “Can you show us that passing drill again, Quinn?”

  “Sure.” She grinned at Robin and followed Arly back into the melee.

  It happened so fast, there wasn’t even time to think about it. One of the older boys with a really strong leg teed off on the ball and kicked a line drive that was worthy of Mia Hamm. Unfortunately, his ball control was not yet equal to his strength, and the kick went well wide of its target. Quinn saw the ball take off and realized it was going to slam into a toddler who was playing not far away. She took two running steps and launched herself into the air, her body almost parallel to the ground as she stretched out her arms to intercept the projectile. She managed to get her fingers on the ball, but she was so extended that she couldn’t control her fall. She came down with all her weight on her left shoulder. The pain was immediate and blinding. Groaning, she curled up around the pain and tried desperately not to vomit.

  The instant Honor saw Quinn hit the ground, she started running toward her. She didn’t need to hear the sharp cry of pain to know that Quinn was hurt—the angle of contact told her that. She reached Quinn at the same time that Arly and Robin did.

  “Quinn!” Arly cried, her voice trembling. She looked from Quinn, moaning on the ground, to Honor, her eyes huge. “Is she hurt, Mommy?”

  “Let me see, honey.” Honor glanced at Robin. “Take the kids up the hill, Robbie.”

  “I’m okay,” Quinn muttered hoarsely, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice steady. She opened her eyes, her vision swimming with tears. The agony in her shoulder was nearly unbearable. She managed a crooked grin when she saw Arly peering at her from a few inches away. “I’m...okay, kiddo. Just got the...wind knocked out.”

 

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