Quinn used the time Jo and Fred were showing Hastings around to change into his city clothes and lay his borrowed ones in a neat pile on his bunk. He hadn’t told anyone about reserving a seat on the red-eye, figuring he’d make his goodbyes short and sweet when the time came. Finally he walked to the house, where a light shone from the kitchen window and he could see people gathered around Emmy Lou’s table, probably swapping stories of the day and sampling one of her pies.
Quinn felt very sorry for himself. Not long ago he’d sat in that kitchen enjoying the same treatment Hastings was getting, being fed like a king and hailed as Jo’s savior. Now she had a new hero. Come to think of it, she’d never really needed Quinn. Salvation had arrived only a few days after he was pressed into service. If Hastings hadn’t turned out to be an understanding guy, Quinn’s presence even might have ruined the movie deal. He’d been worse than useless—he’d been in the way.
At least he wouldn’t make the mistake of hanging around. He walked up the steps to the porch just as Jo came out the front door.
“There you are! I’ve been wondering where you—” She paused and surveyed his outfit. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I’m taking the red-eye, Jo.”
“Tonight?” Her face paled. “You’re leaving right now?”
He nodded. “I was coming in to say goodbye to everyone.”
“I see.” She swallowed. “Well, let me say, while we’re out here by ourselves, that I’m very grateful for all you’ve done.” She twisted her hands in front of her. “I can’t…thank you enough.”
Gratitude, he thought, was beggar’s wages. He wanted love from her, not a polite thank-you. But she needed a cowboy to love. “It turns out I didn’t do a damn thing. Hastings was on his way.”
“We didn’t know that. You stepped into the breach, Quinn. I’ll never forget…that.”
He figured she would forget it, and him, eventually. He wasn’t part of her world and never could be. But standing here and not reaching for her, no matter how dumb the gesture would be, was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.
“I, um, guess you need to come in so you can get going,” she said.
“Yeah.” His voice was husky with sadness.
“I’ll…I’ll be right down. I need to…check on something.” She turned and fled, letting the screen door bang after her as she ran upstairs.
With a heavy sigh Quinn walked into the house and entered the cheerful kitchen, the kitchen he’d never see again.
Conversation stopped, and Fred glanced up from his plate. “Where’ve you been, boy? I know how you crave Emmy Lou’s cooking.”
“It’s been one of the best things about this trip,” Quinn said, smiling at Emmy Lou. “Thank you for feeding me so well.”
Emmy Lou frowned. “That sounded like a goodbye thank-you, to me.”
“And you got your own clothes on for a change,” Benny said.
“I’m catching the red-eye for New York tonight,” Quinn said.
Benny leaped from his chair. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave yet.”
“I’ve got a few minutes left,” Quinn said. Funny how emotional he felt at this moment. Like he was leaving his own family.
“Does Jo know?” Emmy Lou asked.
“Yeah. I met her on the porch.”
“So that’s why she pounded up those stairs like a skunk was after her,” Fred said.
Quinn cleared his throat. “I wanted to say that you’ve been great, all of you.” He glanced at Hastings, who sat at the table with his chauffeur, Sid. Hastings had a button missing from his shirt. Emmy Lou had scored her trophy, after all. “You, too, Brian,” Quinn said. “You could have nailed me for this little stunt. Thanks for letting it go.”
Hastings grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Hey, I love a challenge. Figuring out how to explain you to the good folks of Ugly Bug was the most fun I’ve had in years. Just don’t go trying to be me anymore, okay?”
Quinn returned his smile. “I never wanted to be you in the first place.”
“You didn’t?” Hastings pretended great shock. “Who wouldn’t want that?”
“I sure as hell wouldn’t,” Fred said. He got up to come over and shake Quinn’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure.”
Quinn’s conscience nagged him about the swiped condoms. “Uh, Fred, I—you might notice sometime that you—”
“I already did.” Fred winked at him. “Forget it.”
Not likely, considering what I used them for. Quinn nodded. “Thanks.”
Emmy Lou pulled Quinn into a big hug. “Come back, you hear?”
“I…we’ll see.”
Emmy Lou stood back and gazed at him with tears in her eyes. “How about a button off your shirt?”
Quinn laughed in surprise. “I’m no celebrity.”
“You are to me. I’ve never known a New York investment banker before. Can I have one?”
Quinn shrugged, more touched by the request than he wanted her to know. “Why not?” He stood patiently while she found some scissors and snipped off the button nearest his collar.
Then she patted his chest. “I mean it. Come back.”
He was sure she knew that wasn’t going to happen, or she wouldn’t be fighting tears. “I’ll try.”
Benny came charging into the kitchen, his black Stetson in his hand. He shoved it at Quinn. “Here.”
“Benny, I couldn’t take this. It’s your best hat.”
“It looked good on you today. Well, until Hyper started running and it fell off. Wear it in New York. Go on. Take it.”
Quinn recognized the gift as a gesture of friendship that meant as much to Benny as it did to Quinn. “Thank you. I’ll wear it with pride.” God, it would be tough leaving these people. He put on the hat and adjusted the brim while Benny beamed at him. Another couple of minutes and Quinn was afraid he’d be bawling. “Well, folks, I’d better get on the road.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Hastings said, pushing back his chair.
Uh-oh. Quinn wondered if Hastings was as laid-back as he’d seemed about the impersonation thing. Maybe he wanted Quinn to sign an affidavit promising never to repeat the stunt. Or maybe he was planning to press charges after all. “Okay.”
After a last round of goodbyes, handshakes and hugs from Emmy Lou, Quinn walked to his rental car with Hastings, his eyes moist. It took him a few seconds before he trusted himself to speak. “So, what’s on your mind?” he asked as they reached the car.
“The more appropriate question is, what’s on yours?”
Quinn stood by the driver’s side of the sedan and turned to Hastings. “What do you mean?”
“Are you really as stupid as you’re acting right now, or do you have some master plan you’re not telling anyone?”
Quinn stared at him.
Hastings sighed and shook his head. “So you’re stupid. So stupid you’re going to leave that woman, even though she loves you to pieces.”
“Jo?”
“No, Meg Ryan.” Hastings snorted. “Yes, Jo! Lord love a duck, but you’re dense. I was thinking of hiring you for a couple of financial deals I’m working on, but if this is how you are, forget it. Jo is crazy about you. Genuine crazy, not the starstruck stuff I get most of the time. She loves you deep down to the bone. A guy finds that maybe once in a lifetime, if he’s lucky, and you’re walking away from it. You’re an idiot, Monroe.”
“She wants a cowboy. She said so.”
“Oh, my God. So be a cowboy.”
“I’m no good at it.”
“Trust me, she won’t care. All you really need to pull it off is a Stetson and a smile. Benny just gave you the Stetson, and according to Jo, and I quote—” Hastings slipped into falsetto “—when he smiles, one of his eyeteeth is slightly crooked, which gives him a rakish air.” Hastings rolled his eyes. “That’s love talking, sport. L-U-V, love. She looks at you as if you’re the most expensive thing on the menu, something she’d give anything to have, but she’
s afraid she doesn’t have the money to pay for.”
Quinn’s brain whirled as he wondered if he dared believe what Hastings was saying. “But if she really wants me—”
“She’s scared to say, because of your big important job. Are you married to that hotshot position in New York, or could you see yourself moving to Montana? Montana’s not so far from California, and if you can convince me you have at least a few brain cells working, I could probably scare you up some Hollywood clients. They’re flaky, but they’re rich. But then, you’re flaky. It should work out.”
“I’m not flaky.”
“Oh, sure. I’ve heard enough to think otherwise. You hop on a plane to bring the lady horse sperm, and then you parade around here pretending to be a big star when you’re clueless about the film industry, and then you climb on some spoiled-rotten horse and go tearing around a rodeo arena in front of the good people of Ugly Bug when you can’t even ride, let alone ride and carry a flag. I’m gonna hook you up with Steve Martin. You two are soul mates.”
“You’ve got me pegged wrong.” Maybe he used to be like that when he was growing up in the Bronx with Murray, but he’d changed.
Hastings grinned at him. “Have it your way. I’ve spent years studying how character is revealed, and I know this cold. You’re a wild man. I’m not even going to ask what went on in that tree, but news flash, Quinn, baby—tight-assed guys don’t make love in trees.”
“I was just trying to stay away from snakes!”
“Are you kidding? Snakes can climb trees!”
Quinn could have lived without that factoid. “Okay, okay. What do you think I should do?”
“I have to tell you? Put away your car keys and go upstairs!”
“But everybody’s in the house. It’s an old house. I don’t want—”
“I see your point. Okay. Especially considering your wild streak. Sid and I will take everybody for a moonlit limo ride. I can give you an hour, maybe an hour and a half. But if you can’t get your business done in under sixty minutes, you’re not the banker for me.”
JO KNEW she was being cowardly, but she couldn’t go back downstairs and watch Quinn leave. Besides, no amount of makeup or eyedrops would be able to disguise that she’d been crying buckets. She’d closed her door and muffled the sound with pillows so they wouldn’t be able to hear her downstairs, but with all those people in the house talking and laughing, they probably couldn’t hear her, anyway.
Through her sobs she listened to everyone filing out of the house. No doubt they’d all gone to wave goodbye as Quinn drove away. He’d been a popular guest. The sound of a car engine drifted up to her window, and a fresh wave of tears engulfed her. He was really gone.
When she heard her bedroom door open, she moaned. “Go away, Em. And don’t tell me I’m stupid to cry over him.” She sniffed. “I already know that.”
Footsteps approached the bed.
“Please, Emmy Lou. There are some things a girl has to get through alone. I should never have allowed myself to care about him, but I did, so now I get to pay the consequences.”
The bed sagged.
“Dammit, Emmy Lou. I don’t need mothering, I need—” She lifted her head and stared into Quinn’s blue, blue eyes.
“Loving?” he murmured, smoothing her tousled hair from her damp cheeks.
She buried her face in the pillow, mortified that he’d heard her babble about him and especially that he saw her like this, weeping like a dope because he’d left. “What are you doing here?” she mumbled into the pillow. “You’ll miss your flight.”
“Guess so.” He stroked her hair.
“Why are you wearing Benny’s hat?”
“He gave it to me. He likes me.”
“Well, I don’t. And don’t you dare stay here because you feel sorry for me! I’m not crying over you, anyway.”
“You’re not?” He kicked off his shoes, took off his hat and scooted down next to her on the bed. “Then what are you crying for?”
“None of your beeswax.”
He curved his arm around her waist. “I haven’t heard that since fourth grade.”
“Don’t touch me, either.”
“Why?” He nestled closer and pushed her hair back so he could nibble at her ear. “Because I have cooties?”
“Exactly.” She didn’t want to like his arm around her, or his warm breath on her ear. Maybe he wasn’t leaving tonight, but he would leave tomorrow. And she’d have to go through this all over again.
“But you like bugs.”
Apparently she’d cried so hard she’d sapped her strength. That was the only explanation for why she allowed him to roll her onto her back. And before she knew it, he’d plastered himself on top of her. And her stupid body was getting all hot and bothered about it, too. “Go away.” The words came out in a croak.
“No.” He began to kiss her eyes and her cheeks.
“Don’t kiss me. I probably look like hell.”
He grinned. “No, you don’t. Just a little red and puffy.”
“You missed your plane just so you could tell me that? What a guy.”
His grin faded. “No, I didn’t miss my plane so I could tell you that. I missed my plane so I could tell you this. I love you.”
The world stopped. She stared at him, her mouth open.
“Breathe, Jo.”
She gasped.
“That’s it. Now keep breathing. In, out, in, out. That’s a good girl.”
She struggled to do as he asked, but it wasn’t easy. “Sorry,” she said in a strained voice. “But that’s not the sort of thing I hear every day.”
He gazed at her with loving concern. “I sure hope not.”
She looked into his eyes. She’d suspected he was falling in love with her, but she’d never in a million years expected him to say so. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
“In hopes I could get you to say the same thing back to me.”
“And then what?”
He nudged her gently with his arousal. “We have an hour before the group comes back from their moonlit limo ride.”
“No.”
The light in his eyes dulled. “No, you don’t love me?”
“Yes, I love you, but no, we won’t be frolicking in the sheets for the next hour.”
The gleam returned to his eyes. “Why not?”
“Because this love talk is bad enough, but if you throw in a session with your talented and very large equipment, I won’t be able to survive your leaving tomorrow, that’s why.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. “Which means I have to stay.”
Her breath caught at that sweet contact. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t stay. You’ll ruin your career.”
“My career will be fine.” He feathered a light kiss on her mouth. “I’m just afraid I’ll be in the way around here. I can handle your ledgers like no one you’ve ever seen, but as you know, I can’t ride and I can’t rope and I’m scared of snakes and big ugly bugs.”
“You think I care about that?”
He lifted his head to gaze at her. “I thought you did, yeah. I thought I wasn’t cowboy enough for you.”
“Oh, Quinn.” She pulled his head down and proceeded to kiss him until the press of his arousal became very prominent indeed.
Gasping, he levered himself away from her. “Is that a yes?”
“I don’t recall you asking a question.”
“I didn’t? Damn. Okay, let’s make it a two-parter. First part—will you marry me? And second part—can we get rid of these clothes and get to it before that limo pulls up in front of the house?”
She smiled at him, her heart brimming with happiness. “Here’s a one-part answer to your two-part question. Yes.”
“Hallelujah.” Quinn began unbuttoning her blouse at a furious pace.
“Oh, Quinn, we haven’t talked about children!”
“Do we have to right now?” He tugged off her jeans and panties in one motion. “We on
ly have about forty-four minutes left.” He pulled his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it.
“We certainly do have to talk about children, unless you came prepared for this encounter, which I seriously doubt, because I happen to know Fred’s supply was nearly exhausted last night.”
Quinn paused, his pants half off. “He told you I swiped?”
“Yes, and he’s about out by now. So, are we having kids or not?”
“That’s up to you.” Quinn pulled a foil-wrapped square from his pocket before letting the slacks fall to the floor.
“Are you taking Fred’s last one?”
“Nope. He has a backup stash. And this time I didn’t have to swipe it. He offered.”
Jo’s cheeks heated. “So everybody knows what we’re doing up here?”
“Pretty much. So what’ll it be?” He leaned down and wiggled the packet in front of her face. “I happen to like kids, myself.”
Jo’s embarrassment lost out to a powerful surge of desire. “I like kids, too,” she said, her voice husky.
Quinn straightened, tossed the packet over his shoulder and took off his briefs.
Jo looked at him standing before her in all his glory. He was perfect, but one little detail would make him even more perfect. “Quinn, do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
She picked up the Stetson from where he’d laid it on the bedside table. “Humor me and put this on.”
Quinn chuckled as he took the hat. He set it on his head and pulled it low over his eyes. “Damned if Hastings wasn’t right.”
“About what?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. Nothing at all.” Then he smiled that heart-stopping smile, the one that made her knees weak and her pulse race.
Her heart brimming with happiness, Jo opened her arms. “Come here, you big, beautiful cowboy.”
CHRISTIE RIDGWAY
The Bridesmaid’s Bet
Why, oh, why hadn’t she made an effort to date before now?
With a Stetson and a Smile & The Bridesmaid’s Bet Page 17