Homecoming

by Lacey Baker

  “I can’t wait,” he told her, his teeth scraping along her skin. “I want to wait. I want to make it good for you, but—”

  “Oh, it’s good,” she told him. “It’s so good.”

  So good that Nikki wasn’t about to wait. She pulled at her shirt, yanking it over her head quickly. Quinn chuckled then pulled his shirt off in the same passionate effort. Reluctantly, she moved off his lap, smiling at him as she did away with her shorts and underwear. He was with her every step of the way, standing to take off his shoes, pants, boxers.

  She reached for him instantly, letting his length fill her small hands.

  “You drive me nuts,” he told her. “Absolutely nuts, waiting for the moment I can touch you.”

  Nikki licked her lips, stepping closer to him, her head tilted up toward his. “I’m doing the touching now.”

  “Oh yeah, you definitely are. And I’m going insane,” he murmured, bringing his lips to meet hers in another scorching kiss.

  When he pulled away Nikki almost complained. Instead she saw that he was reaching into his wallet for a condom, which she quickly took from him.

  “Let me,” she whispered.

  He simply obliged, standing in front of her in all his naked glory. Rock-hard abs, taut muscle from his arms to his thighs to his calves—he was absolutely beautiful. His shaft was long, hard, hot in her palm as she rolled the latex onto him.

  That was it for her savoring the moment. Quinn hadn’t lied when he said he couldn’t wait. He’d sat back on the bed, pulling her over his hips once more. Before she could sigh in contentment he’d entered her, filling her so completely that the scream she’d been contemplating came rippling free. She shivered over him, moments later reaching another pinnacle and loving every minute of it.

  He wrapped her in his arms so gently, transitioning their bodies so that he was now over her. He stared down at her for what seemed like endless moments, his length pulsating inside of her, their hearts beating a matching rapid beat.

  “What is it?” she asked, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. “What’s the matter?”

  Quinn closed his eyes, shook his head, and took a deep breath. “You’re amazing,” was his reply.

  Nikki’s heart leapt, soared for endless seconds before settling into a rhythm she could swear sang, I love you. I love you. I love you.

  * * *

  He was in trouble. Quinn knew it, felt a pressure in his chest like a sledgehammer. If it weren’t for his medical experience he’d think he was having a heart attack. But he knew differently.

  This reaction was purely a result of this woman beneath him. The one who was at this very moment tracing her tongue along the line of his ear, wrapping her legs so tightly around him he didn’t think their bodies would ever break apart. As he sank deeper inside her, felt the tight grip of her walls around him, he experienced a sensation of sinking, falling so fast and so unexpectedly that he struggled to catch his breath. At that exact moment his release hit him like a freight train and his entire body convulsed. She hugged him closer, and he rested his face in the crook of her neck.

  “Quinn,” she whispered.

  He thought she wanted to say something else. And then he prayed she didn’t. He prayed with everything he had inside him that she didn’t because he knew without a doubt what the words would be. Words he didn’t have a response to and therefore did not want to hear. Even though as he continued with shallow strokes, in and out of her, as her arms cradled him with such tender ferocity he wanted to bury himself right here in this moment and never leave, Quinn couldn’t bring himself to think of what all that might mean.

  He couldn’t bear to think he might be falling in love.

  Chapter 19

  Saturday came quicker than Quinn thought, most likely because he’d spent the last two nights in Nikki’s bed.

  When he wasn’t there, he’d started seeing Bill Riley for at least an hour each day. The man wasn’t going to get better; there was no cure that Quinn could administer to make him and his wife any happier. But he could sit and play checkers with him, watch Family Feud and listen to him laugh like it was the funniest show he’d ever seen. He could give Margaret a much-needed reprieve by staying with Bill while she went to the salon or out to lunch with her friend Carolyn. Yesterday, Michelle had even fixed a basket of food for him to take over to the Riley house so Margaret wouldn’t have to cook for a day or two.

  While Quinn was at the Rileys’ place he noticed that he wasn’t the only one making these house calls. From time to time he’d open the door to other townsfolk who just stopped by to see Bill and chat with him for a while. Even Marabelle and Louisa came, bringing a box of vanilla scones from the coffee shop and an earful of gossip for Margaret, who simply sat on the front porch listening to them—with only half an ear, Quinn thought with a chuckle.

  Now he sat on his own front porch—the one that belonged to The Silver Spoon and wrapped almost completely around the house. The other half of the house was the part that had been extended for the restaurant. He was on the first step, where he usually preferred sitting instead of in one of the Adirondack or rocking chairs that gave the place an even more homey feel. Dixi sat on the step right beneath him, completely tuckered out from running around the house at least ten times in the half hour they’d been out here. It was now twenty minutes to five and Nikki should be here at any moment to pick him up. Quinn planned to ask her if she wasn’t busy tomorrow after church to drive him up to Easton so he could rent a car. Walking was nice, but last night when he’d left the Rileys’ house heading to Nikki’s he and Dixi had gotten completely soaked in the fifteen-minute thunderstorm that hit unexpectedly—not necessarily unexpectedly as he’d watched the evening news with Bill and saw the prediction. He’d simply thought he could beat the weather. He’d been wrong.

  He’d also been laughing while he held a soaked and shivering Dixi in his arms and knocked on Nikki’s door. She’d shaken her head and taken Dixi from him. For the next hour Dixi had been cuddled and held on Nikki’s lap with a fluffy towel wrapped securely around her while Quinn had been forced to wear Ralph Brockington’s robe that was way too big for him. That’s when Nikki had suggested he leave some clothes at her house for moments such as these. Quinn had brushed that suggestion off.

  And on Friday night after spending time in her arms and bed, Quinn had returned to The Silver Spoon. It was another step back, he knew, but had done it anyway.

  He was looking forward to going crabbing, however, because it had been years since he’d sat in a boat and waited patiently for anything. Quinn and Michelle hadn’t spoken about Nikki anymore since their argument four days ago. When he’d walked into the kitchen late Friday afternoon he’d been more than a little nervous asking this favor.

  “Nikki and I are going crabbing in the morning. I was going to fix us some snacks but I don’t want to take supplies you may need from the kitchen.” That’s how he’d put it.

  And she’d seen right through him.

  “So you want me to fix you a basket?” she’d asked as she sliced lemons.

  “I can fix it myself,” he’d immediately replied.

  “Yeah, right and I can fly. What do you want, sandwiches or soup?”

  The slight quirk of her lips said she was in a good mood. The offer to help said she’d forgiven him for his purely male attitude the other day. The way she’d paused and stared at him for just a second before making the offer said she was still questioning his involvement with Nikki.

  “Both,” was his response. “If you don’t mind?”

  She’d shaken her head again. “You know I don’t mind fixing food. But you haven’t been crabbing in a while. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “It’s like riding a bike,” he’d told her. While she’d been more than happy to give him the food for the Rileys, Quinn had wondered if he could go back and ask his sister for a favor. If this were twenty-five years ago she would surely still not be speaking to him.

 
As it stood now, Quinn looked to his left and saw the basket his sister had packed for him and Nikki. He smiled with love and appreciation for Michelle. No matter what, she’d always been there for them, always forgave, always smiled and helped out. He wanted to do something nice for her; he just had to figure out what.

  Nikki pulled up about five minutes later, and Dixi’s rounded head immediately perked up. Her little legs carried her down the steps faster than Quinn thought she’d ever moved. He had a pocket full of treats for her as well as a separate thermos of water and a small bowl in case she became thirsty. It could get extremely hot out there on the water.

  “Mornin’,” he said when he’d walked down to the curb. He leaned into the driver’s-side window and kissed her.

  “Good morning,” she replied cheerfully then waved him back so she could open the door and let Dixi in.

  Dixi, the spoiled princess she was quickly becoming, jumped right up in Nikki’s lap as if that were her appointed seat. Quinn walked around to the passenger-side door smiling, happy and content for the first time in a very long time.

  Half an hour later they were sitting in a boat floating in the river. The sun hadn’t come up yet but the sky was doing its usual dance of transformation from night to day. The boat belonged to Ralph Brockington, and Nikki operated it just like an Eastern Shore native. Between the two of them sat a bucket with about an inch of ice at the bottom. Their food basket was on Quinn’s left. Without a word they’d both began to bait their lines with chicken necks. Nikki wasn’t squeamish at all; then again, Quinn hadn’t really expected her to be. She did this with the same systematic grace he’d watched her do many things lately. It wasn’t until they had rigged two lines, propping them up against the side so they would catch on their own and then lacing another line to hold on to, that they sat back and relaxed.

  “We can steam what we catch for lunch if you’d like,” she said.

  Quinn resisted looking at her again. He’d already noted how cute she looked in her cutoff shorts and orange tank top. Her normally unruly hair had been pulled back tightly, the ends that resembled a fluffy brown puffball emerging through the back opening of the Orioles cap she wore. Her skin looked smooth, sun-kissed, and delectable. The latter was why he chose to keep his eyes on the water.

  “Sounds good,” was his reply.

  A few minutes later he asked, “Do you have a crabbing license?”

  She shook her head. “Today’s a free fishing Saturday. They have them a couple times during the season. We’ll see plenty of boats out here before long as everybody’ll want to take advantage of that.”

  He nodded. “I see.”

  “I talked to Savannah last night,” she said.

  “Really?” Quinn was surprised when he knew he shouldn’t be. Savannah and Nikki had once been extremely close. “What’d she have to say?”

  “Nothing much, but I know that means she’s worried about something. Savannah always has something to talk about, namely herself. But when she called—which was after you left so you know it was late—she said she just wanted to see how I was doing. She asked about us.”

  Of course she did, he thought dismally. “Sorry about that,” he told her.

  “Sorry she called me so late or sorry she asked about us?”

  Quinn hesitated, trying to figure if that was a trick question. “Both, I guess,” was his response, whether it was right or wrong.

  “I couldn’t really answer her since I don’t know much about us.”

  “You know what’s important,” he told her. It was vague and purposely so. This conversation wasn’t going to go well if they continued. “I put in a leave of absence from my job,” he said by way of changing the subject before he sank what might be the very best thing that had ever happened to him.

  “Really?” she asked. “Why?”

  “It was time to take a break. If you’re not too busy tomorrow can you give me a ride to Easton so I can rent a car?”

  “You want to rent a car? For how long?” she asked.

  Quinn didn’t know the answer to that question. He just knew that it was needed. “For a while I guess.”

  “Wouldn’t it be simpler to have your car shipped here?”

  No. That would seem permanent.

  “I can rent for now,” was his only reply.

  They sat in silence after that and he knew she wanted to say more, to ask more. Quinn didn’t want to answer.

  When his line drew tight he sat up in his chair.

  “Pull her up quickly,” she instructed.

  Even though he already knew to do that Quinn acted as if he were doing what she said. Out of the water came a beautiful Chesapeake blue. When his line was safely inside the boat he put the crab down into the bucket and used a ruler to measure it.

  “Remember, anything smaller than five inches goes back. And turn it over to see if it’s male or female,” she continued.

  Maryland had imposed tight restrictions on crabbers throughout the state about two years before because of the diminishing numbers of blue crabs. Smaller ones had to be thrown back to allow for more growth; females were off limits so that they could produce as much as possible.

  “He’s good,” Quinn announced, tossing down the ruler.

  “Great. Looks like someone else is making a decision, too,” she said, using a hand to pat Dixi’s head and push her face out of the bucket before the crab snapped her nose off.

  Quinn quickly covered the bucket. “She’s so silly,” he said about Dixi.

  “She’s curious.”

  Of course, that was it. The rest of the morning proceeded with their conversation on that same level. Catching and releasing crabs, swatting at Dixi so she’d keep her nose intact, and filling the cooler they’d brought along with the maximum of two dozen crabs for a personal unlicensed crabber.

  As they ate the sandwiches and soup that Michelle had packed them Nikki suggested they share the crabs with the Rileys. Quinn figured that was an excellent idea.

  * * *

  They arrived back at The Silver Spoon around six o’clock that evening. Their crabbing excursion had ended around eleven thirty and when they’d come back to dry land they’d gone to the Brockington house to steam the crabs. Once they were finished Nikki drove them over to the Rileys’, and that’s where they’d been since then.

  “I don’t know when the last time was we’ve had this much fun,” Margaret had said while she and Nikki cleaned off the picnic table in the backyard.

  Quinn and Bill had rolled up the paper they’d piled their empty crab shells on and were taking it to the town Dumpster so the smell wouldn’t attract unwelcome rodents in the Rileys’ trash cans.

  “It was nice of you and Quinn to come by this afternoon,” Margaret was telling Nikki.

  They’d just made a new pitcher of summer punch. Nikki had smiled as they’d made it because just about everyone in Sweetland had a different recipe for summer punch, and most of them were delicious. Margaret’s was a mixture of watermelon, white grape juice, and fresh mint. It was refreshing and just lively enough to counter the salt and spicy taste of the steamed crabs. Nikki had enjoyed the pretty day sitting in the Rileys’ backyard sipping from a tall glass.

  “Quinn likes spending time with Bill,” she’d replied.

  The Rileys had a bit of land surrounding their house and it was down a small hill before you could even see the windows from their neighbors. They had two children, a boy and a girl, but neither of them had been in Sweetland for what seemed like ages. Whatever visiting was done would be as a result of the senior Rileys heading to the airport to fly out and see them. Nikki thought that was kind of sad.

  Margaret let out a long sigh. “Bill likes him, too. Says he’s the first doctor he really trusts.”

  That was another sad thing, the fact that Bill was dying and Margaret seemed to be sitting here dying right along with him. At one time she’d been on one or two of Odell’s committees, but Nikki’s mother had remarked the other day that
she hadn’t seen much of Margaret since Bill’s diagnosis.

  “It’s good that he’s been able to remember his surroundings,” Nikki said, trying to be as optimistic as ever.

  “I dead-bolt all the doors at night. Elmer down at the general store came out and installed them. I have this key and I have to use it to lock and open the doors in the morning. I sleep with it around my neck just in case.”

  It sounded so dire, so serious, and Nikki figured it was. If Quinn hadn’t been out that morning to see Bill there was no telling where he would have ended up or if they would’ve ever found him.

  “Does he know they’re locked?” she asked out of curiosity. Nikki remembered Bill Riley mostly from being at the church picnic. He always worked the grill with a big happy smile and a bit of conversation. In the winter months after a big snow or ice storm you could hear Bill’s truck riding around, the plow he’d hitched to the front scraping along the icy roads. Seeing him sit still and fading in and out of conversations wasn’t easy for her, so she was sure it had to be a living hell for him.

  “He got up one night and tried to get out. I heard him yelling and woke up. He said he had to go out and cut the grass. He thought the kids were coming in town for a barbecue. It took me two hours and lots of hot tea to get him calm enough to go back to bed. And actually, don’t tell the doc,” she whispered, “I put one of those pain pills in his tea so he’d go to sleep and stay sleep.”

  Something about the way she’d said that made Nikki shiver. Quinn and Bill were back by then, and they’d spent another hour talking before Quinn suggested they leave so Bill could get some rest.

  Now Nikki was driving and wondering if Quinn was going to stay at her place tonight or not. She wasn’t stupid; she knew her suggestion that he bring some of his clothes over had scared him off so that last night he went back to the B&B. She probably would have kicked herself about it all night if Savannah hadn’t called her to keep her mind off him.

  “I need to walk Dixi,” he was saying as Nikki turned onto Main Street.