The Best Part of Me

by Jamie Hollins

  “Once. They came here to collect my mom’s things before they moved to Pittsburgh. He didn’t get a warm welcome from my aunt and uncle, but I’m sure that doesn’t really surprise you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “My Dad was German. He was born and raised in Frankfurt. I think he suspected my aunt and uncle gave him the cold shoulder because he was foreign.”

  Guess Maura Hughes hadn’t changed much through the years. And to think Ewan had thought he was the only one the old lady hated.

  ###

  For the tenth time that day, she silently thanked God that she’d brought her raincoat with her. The wind had picked up and was now blowing against their faces, making Quinn’s ponytail dance behind her. With the wind came the mist as it crept down over the tops of the hills to settle around them.

  Still, it was gorgeous, and Quinn was content. Content in the peacefulness and stillness as they wound their way down the valley. Even more content to have Ewan beside her.

  The past couple weeks had been total ecstasy. Ewan was not the type of man that anyone could overlook. His presence, albeit quiet and serious, loomed large in any room. Sometimes Quinn couldn’t believe that at the end of the day, she was the one in his bed. Sometimes she’d watch him while working behind the bar. She watched the way he moved, the way his shirt would stretch across the muscles in his back while he reached for a bottle. The way his eyes would narrow slightly as he listened to a customer place their order.

  To the town, he was Ewan McKenna, manager of their local pub. Quinn had to pinch herself because he was so much more to her. She knew what his skin felt like underneath his clothes. She’d practically memorized the wide expanse of his chest and how it felt to run her fingers along the curve of his spine. She knew the feel of him, the taste of him. The noises he made right before he’d plant himself deep inside of her with his release.

  There was no stopping her train of thought, even in the serenity of their surroundings. Quinn saw his long, powerful legs stretch out next to her with every step he made. His gait was steady but slow so that she could keep pace with her much shorter legs. The man who walked beside her was arguably the hottest, most desirable man she’d ever seen. Not to mention a certified sex god. Not the kind of certification that you got from an online course with a quiz at the end. The God-given-talent type of certification.

  In the two weeks since they’d had dinner at his aunt and uncle’s, Quinn had been introduced to alone-in-the-middle-of-the-woods sex, a truck-tailgate quickie, and round two in her garden shed. Round two, although amazing on top of the potting surface, still fell to second place behind round one against the cottage wall. He’d tried his hardest to make it happen in her creaky twin bed in her bedroom, but thank God she’d withstood his relentless harassment when her cousin’s voice had called from the hallway announcing he was home early from work.

  She’d also felt pretty good about herself when she surprised him one evening with a few tricks she could do with her mouth. From the way his eyes had burned into her while she was showing him, she was pretty sure he’d liked them.

  Although thrilling as it might be, Blue Hills Reservation sex might be pushing it. It almost seemed like blasphemy in such a reverent place. Still, the thought had crossed her mind.

  They walked for quite a while in silence, listening to the gurgle of the water somewhere off to the right of the trail in the forest.

  “Did your aunt and uncle bring you here when you were little?”

  “Yeah, once.” His smooth voice sent a shiver up her spine.

  “They seem like really great people.”

  “They are.”

  She smiled as she recalled their dinner some weeks ago.

  “Did you and Sean fight when you were little?”

  The tips of his mouth turned up. “Oh, yeah.”

  “I bet. You two were probably always in trouble.”

  He shrugged slightly. “Surprisingly, my aunt was the strict one. She was the disciplinarian between her and my uncle. The only time my uncle really gave us shit was when we didn’t do our chores.”

  Quinn laughed. “What kind of chores did you have?”

  “I was responsible for doing the dishes. That and getting the mail.”

  “Since how old?”

  “Since I was nine.”

  “What were Sean’s chores?”

  “He mowed the yard and took the trash out once a week.”

  “And Megan’s?”

  “She set the table and then cleared it after we were all done eating.”

  Quinn smiled, thinking about the three of them completing their daily chores.

  “I had to set the table and do dishes when I was growing up. I also had to keep my room clean or I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my friends on the weekends.”

  He nodded. “I shared a room with Sean until I was about thirteen, then I got my own room when my uncle built on to the back of the house. It was a lot easier to keep clean after that. Sean’s bloody messy,” he said, his Irish brogue accenting the word bloody.

  She’d heard as much from Darcy. That Sean’s place in Boston needed to be cleaned by a hazmat team.

  “He’s been thoroughly pampered his entire life,” Ewan continued. “He’s the baby. He always got whatever he wanted.”

  There was no animosity or resentment in his statement. He said it as simply as if he were telling her the sky was blue and the grass was green.

  “Are you an only child?”

  Ewan was quiet, and their easy conversation hit a pause.

  Apparently, Quinn had stepped over that invisible line between allowable questions to off-limits.

  Ewan was a closed book. Hell, he was a locked book. Quinn knew that his past was a sensitive topic, and she’d always been respectful of giving him space. She knew that some things were painful to talk about. But she’d always hoped they’d get to a point in their relationship when he’d open up a little more. She thought they’d passed that point after he’d spent the night holding her in his truck while she sobbed about her mother.

  Something had changed that night. He’d proven time and time again that he could take care of her physical needs, but that night he’d taken care of her emotionally. Her heart had been lying open in front of him, and he’d helped her mend it. She desperately wanted to do the same for him. But he had to open up to her first.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she tried again.

  After a few seconds, he looked over at her. And surprisingly, he nodded.

  “Are you the oldest?” she cautiously asked, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice at his willingness to share.

  “Youngest.”

  “So you're the baby in your family too.”

  He didn’t respond, just continued walking, eyes forward down the path.

  “How many siblings do you have?”

  He took a deep breath. “One brother,” he answered shortly, without looking at her.

  “What’s his name?”

  He cleared his throat. “Darren.”

  Quinn watched as he shoved his hands in his front pockets. His shoulders were back, and she could see his brow was furrowed, even though he was still staring ahead.

  She decided to take the little information he had just given her and not push her luck.

  “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s absolutely stunning.”

  He looked over at her then, and she smiled at him. His eyes turned warm once again.

  “You’re welcome.”

  They heard the crunch of bike tires on the path, and Ewan took Quinn’s arm and pulled her to the side of the road to let the two bikers pass. Quinn stood snugly against him for a quick second before he released her arm and stepped back on the path. After resuming their walk, they fell into an uneasy silence. He’d opened up a little, but it was obvious it was a struggle for him to do so. She was trying desperately to think of ways to bridge the gap between them, thinking that if she kept talking, he’d keep
sharing.

  “When I was in Providence with Darcy, I learned that her university offers a master’s program in landscape architecture.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “It’s a three-year program, and after Darcy relentlessly harassed me, I called the school to find out more about it. It turns out that they’d accept the credits that I took before I dropped out.”

  Ewan lazily kicked a stone to the side of the road, not responding.

  “With the transferred credits, it would cut the program down to two years. Darcy even gave me a tour of the campus.”

  He nodded, his eyes on the road. She didn’t really know what she expected from him, but a little bit more of a reaction would have been nice.

  “The chair of the department said there was room for me in their program this fall. All I had to do was apply.”

  Still no verbal response. Quinn looked ahead. The bikers that had passed them minutes before were getting smaller and smaller in the distance, the sound of the bike tires no longer audible.

  “So I filled out the university’s application and sent it in. If I’m accepted, I can start classes in a couple months.”

  “You sure that’s what you want to do?”

  “Yeah, I think it is. I felt terrible that I never followed through with my degree. But after my parents died, it was just all too much. I’m finally at a place where I feel I can give it one hundred percent again.”

  He nodded, turning his head to look up at the towering trees around them.

  “Darcy has an apartment down there already. She has one more class to take next semester before she’s finished. She said she’d be happy to have me as a roommate. She’s practically begging me to stay with her. I figure I could stay down there during the week while classes are going on, then I can come back up to Ballagh on the weekends. Or maybe you could come down and see me.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to finish your education at your old school since your credits are already there?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see why I couldn’t do it here just as easily.”

  “Don’t you have anything keeping you in Pittsburgh?”

  Quinn looked at his profile and bit her lip. “I was hoping I had more keeping me here.”

  He looked over, and when his eyes met hers, her heart sank. He pulled in a deep breath, releasing it slowly, like he was preparing himself for battle.

  “Quinn, if you go to school in Providence, that’s your decision.” His voice was quiet but firm.

  “I know.”

  “Your decision shouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

  Quinn shook her head. “I don’t understand why. I’d like to think if I stayed here we could continue seeing each other.”

  He looked over at her and stopped walking, his eyes no longer sparkling blue but flat and dull. “There is no future for us.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I am. I told you before we even started anything that I wasn’t the right kind of guy for you. What we have going…it’s not permanent.”

  His voice was firm. His face, which all morning had been carefree and warm, was blank and held no promise or hope. She saw through his eyes that his barrier was back in place. He was guarding himself against something, and he was retreating. Quinn didn’t like it one bit.

  They’d been having a perfect morning after a blissful couple of weeks. She’d thought they’d made progress. She’d thought she’d cracked his shield. And her disappointment was so great it manifested into a bright, hot anger. She’d been walking a thin line, not wanting to push him, but goddamn it, what the hell was his problem?

  “What are you so scared of, Ewan?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you really care nothing for me?” she asked, her anger starting to simmer in her chest.

  “You know that’s not true.”

  “Well, then explain this to me. This is bullshit and you know it!”

  He looked back to the road ahead of them and took a deep breath. A whole minute passed while Quinn waited for him to say something. Her impatience hit the boiling point.

  “So I’m good enough to fuck, but I’m not good enough to be permanent?”

  His head snapped toward her and his eyes blazed.

  “God, no.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’ve got it all wrong. It’s me.”

  “Oh, great. The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he snapped. “I’m only good enough to fuck. I’m the one who isn’t good enough to be permanent. Not for you.”

  She stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

  “Shouldn’t that be my decision?” she finally replied.

  “No. You don’t know me, Quinn. You don’t know what a fucked-up person I am.”

  “Well, it’s not for a lack of trying! You’re like a fortress. You won’t give me even an inch when it comes to getting to know you better. If you’d let me, I’d love to know everything about you. I want to know what makes you happy and what makes you sad. I want to know what your goals are and what you want out of life. I want to know where you’ve come from and what makes you tick. Minutes ago when you told me about your brother, it was the first time since we’ve known each other that you’ve shared anything with me about your family.”

  “You don’t know anything about my brother.” His voice was eerily calm.

  “You’re right, I don’t. But I’d like to. Hell, I’d love to meet him if you’d let me.”

  “He’s dead.”

  Quinn snapped her mouth shut and blinked. Ewan stared at her, his lips a thin, straight line.

  “I…I’m sorry.” She watched the pain flash across his face for a split second, and then it was gone.

  “Me too,” he said quietly.

  Ewan turned and started walking again, his pace quicker than it had been before. Quinn hurried to match his step. It was impossible for her not to think that his brother’s death might be a key to why he was so tight-lipped.

  “Were you close to him?”

  “Jesus, Quinn.” He took a deep breath. “Darren died when I was nine years old. I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “It would probably really help if you talked about this with someone.” She reached for his hand. As soon as her fingertips touch his skin, he jerked away as if her hand were on fire.

  Anger washed over his face like a wave. “Who are you to say what would help me?” he replied bitterly.

  “Because I’ve been through it.”

  He glared at her through narrowed eyes, his perfect beautiful face marred with dark, seething pain.

  “Quinn, I know you lost your parents, and I wish to God that it hadn’t happened. But don’t pretend that you know anything about me or what you think would help me. Because you don’t.”

  His words sliced at her heart like a knife. And as angry and frustrated as she was at him, what he had just said hurt her more than any fist to the gut could have. Try as she might, she couldn’t formulate any sort of response.

  “I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” he said. “I wish I could explain things to you in a way you’d understand.”

  His dark hair had fallen over his furrowed brow. His dark sapphire eyes focused on her, trying to convey a message that she wasn’t willing to accept.

  “Maybe you should think long and hard about it,” she countered. “Because saying stuff like you’re not good enough for me doesn’t tell me shit. Your past may be fucked up, and I’m sure I don’t even know the half of it. But for you to stand there and tell me you wish it didn’t have to be this way makes you look like a big, fat coward.”

  He stopped suddenly, turning toward her. But she kept walking.

  After some time, she stopped listening for his footsteps behind her. After twenty minutes, she made it back to his truck and waited impatiently beside the passenger door until he unlocked it. During the short ride to her aunt’s house, neither of them said anything.

  When
he finally pulled into her aunt’s drive, she didn’t even wait for him to put the truck in park before she opened the door and slid out, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Chapter 22

  Two weeks.

  It had been two weeks and three days since he’d watched Quinn Adler walk away from him. The tiny but mighty Quinn Adler, storming up the porch steps and into her house.

  She’d called him a coward.

  If a man had said it, Ewan would’ve made it so he was spitting out his teeth. But hearing that from Quinn’s lips, the same lips he craved like they were a drug—it cut deep.

  He had to give himself credit. This time he’d been able to stay away.

  His life had returned to some sort of normalcy. Not quite pre-Quinn Adler normal, but it was a pattern he could live with.

  He worked every day at the pub, even when it was his day off. He completed his inventories and deliveries early in the morning before Ballagh was out of bed. And he closed the doors of the pub in the early-morning hours after the last patron left. There was an ebb and flow to his daily activities. And he felt like he had a handle on things again.

  He wouldn’t deny that he was avoiding Quinn. It was for the best. Just like he’d tried to explain to her before she got all dreamy-eyed on him, nothing would ever come of their relationship. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Not surprisingly, Darcy had shot him dirty looks across the bar a few times. He hadn’t seen Rory or Erin come by in the last two weeks. Even Lisbeth, whom he could always count on for her pathetic flirting, stopped talking to him. Guess he could call that a silver lining.

  Sean and his uncle left him alone. His aunt couldn’t help herself. She’d stopped by earlier that morning to insist he come by the house. He’d been turning down her invitations to dinner, knowing that Quinn very well might be there. He wasn’t trying to hurt his aunt’s feelings, but he needed to give things a little more time before he ran into Quinn again.

  And from the sounds of it, he wouldn’t have to wait very much longer.

  One evening, he’d overheard Darcy tell Sean at the pub that Quinn had decided to withdraw her application to the school in Providence and was thinking about heading back to Pittsburgh. Ewan had turned his back to them and quickly tamped down the dismay that rose in his throat. A normal bastard would have cared. He couldn’t allow himself to think that way. The sooner Quinn Adler got on a plane, the easier it would be to get back to the sorry excuse for a life he led.