by Abby Gaines
“OH DEAR, WHAT TIME IS IT?” Daisy sat up, disoriented to find herself still on the couch in the living room. She must have fallen asleep as the delay after the multicar pileup postponed the end of the race past midnight. One moment she had been listening to an on-track announcer interviewing Bart Branch as he sat in his car on the track and the next she had been dreaming of eating ice cream on a rickety dock by the lake, laughing at something funny Quinn had said while Brianna, all grown up, sat beside him eating an ice-cream cone of her own. The warm, fuzzy residue of that idyllic dream faded as time and place returned abruptly. “Brianna?” Her eyes flew to the bassinette. It was empty.
She swung her feet to the floor, wincing as her still-tender ankle bumped against the leg of the low pine table where she and Sheila and Mellie and Lily had held their impromptu inside picnic just a couple of days earlier. “Quinn?” She rose, still a little stiff, and threw the afghan Quinn must have covered her with over the back of the couch.
“Right here,” he spoke quietly from across the room. Brianna was tucked against his shoulder, supported there by one big hand across her back. One of her bottles was stuck in his pants pocket drawing his jeans tight across his narrow hips. Her eyes lingered there for a moment longer than was necessary and she was glad it was dark enough in the big room, lit only by the embers of the small fire Quinn had kindled earlier to help take the dampness from the night air, so that he couldn’t see her blush.
She had been noticing more and more of those sorts of sensual details as the days passed and she watched him work out of doors and around the house. He didn’t do manual labor for a living but he wasn’t a soft man, not by any means. His muscles were well defined. He had broad shoulders and a strong back and although his touch was gentle his hands were as hard and strong as the rest of him.
“I didn’t hear her wake up,” she said, feeling alarmed she’d slept so deeply. A little arrow of uneasiness streaked through her heart. What if this happened when they were alone together, just the two of them? And what might happen when Brianna was older as she had been in her dream? What if she wandered out of the apartment and out in to traffic?
“You didn’t hear her because she didn’t make any noise,” Quinn assured her and she knew, he had read her thoughts as he seemed to be able to do now and then. “She was awake so I took her with me to warm her bottle. She was bored lying in the bassinette. She wanted to know how the race ended.” He settled into the chair at a right angle to where she sat on the couch and began feeding her daughter. It was the first time he’d attempted the task, but he looked as if he’d been doing it all his life.
“I’ve been taking notes,” he said with that devastatingly sexy smile he used so rarely. “I figured it was time I gave it a try.”
Daisy found the sight of Brianna in his arms every bit as appealing in real life as it had been in her dreams. Quinn Parrish would make a wonderful father, a better father than his stepbrother would have been. She didn’t berate herself for the thought. It was the truth and she would be less than honest if she pretended otherwise.
“You’re doing great.” She curled her legs under her and wrapped her arms around a throw pillow, allowing the fantasy of the three of them as a family to play out a little longer.
“She’s hungry,” he said, looking down at the baby, “but not starving like she always seemed to be before.”
Daisy glanced at the clock. “Is it really after three? I fed her at eleven. That’s over four hours. Starting her on cereal was the right thing to do, I guess.”
“Yeah, it seems that way.” He grinned down at Brianna, who was wide-awake and listening to every word, it seemed. “Your momma’s a smart lady, isn’t she?”
Daisy’s throat tightened with emotion. They looked so right together, the two of them. She stiffened, searching for a way to divert her thoughts from going further down a forbidden path. She owed Quinn so much she could never repay. She didn’t dare start letting herself think that there could be more to their relationship than gratitude and friendship. That way promised nothing but heartbreak.
“Who won the race?” she asked. The race was a much safer topic of conversation.
“I recorded the finish.” Quinn nodded toward the remote as Brianna sucked hungrily on her bottle and grinned. “I think you’ll like the way it turned out.”
Daisy wondered if she should remind him to burp Brianna now that her formula was half gone, but he glanced at the bottle as he spoke and gently tugged it out of her mouth, lifting her back to his shoulder. The baby squirmed a little, not wanting to stop eating, but after a dozen gentle pats she relaxed and turned her head to nuzzle his neck.
Daisy’s heart turned over in her chest and tears stung her eyes. She fumbled for the remote and switched on the TV to keep from staring at the two of them. She found the right button and began to fast forward through the race delay. The sound was muted. She continued to watch the screen as she talked so he wouldn’t see how close she was to losing control of her emotions. “Have you always been a NASCAR fan?” she asked.
“Not when I was a kid,” he admitted. “Grandma and Granddad weren’t all that much into racing, probably because of my dad’s accident, but once my mom married Carlyle and I got old enough to be interested in cars I got hooked. What about you?”
“My dad and my uncle loved dirt track racing. When I was a kid my uncle crewed on a couple of teams but my dad worked two jobs to keep all of us in sneakers and jeans so he didn’t have a lot of time or money left over for going to races.”
“Did he teach you to drive? You handled your car like a pro that first day I met you.”
“Until I pulled out in front of a truck, you mean?” she asked, giving him a quick, rueful glance before turning back to the screen.
“It was an accident, not bad driving.”
“The outcome was the same.” She shrugged not wanting to think about the accident and how much more serious it could have been for both her and her daughter. “My oldest brother taught me to drive. He always wanted to be a NASCAR driver. He had to settle for driving a big rig.”
“He lives near your parents in Florida?”
They had spoken briefly of her family now and then but very little of his. “Mom and Dad moved to Sarasota when Dad’s plant closed. They’re close by each other. Mom helps out with his kids. My other brother and my sister are in Georgia and Texas. We’re scattered all over the place these days.” Tears pricked behind her eyelids again. She was still way too emotional. “You’re lucky to be near your mother,” she said before she could censor her tongue.
“Distance isn’t always measured in miles.” Brianna emitted a loud unladylike burp and he gave a short bark of laughter. “Way to go, Bri, honey. That was a good one.” He settled her back into his arms and began feeding her again. Obviously there wasn’t going to be any more discussion about his family.
Daisy pretended to watch the race as the cars fired their engines and took up position for the double-file restart. She hated to see people estranged from their loved ones. There were so many separations, like Brendan’s death, that could never be altered or made right. To her way of thinking it was almost a sin to create them among the living. The estrangement between Quinn and his mother was none of her business even though she wished there was something she could do or say to help mend the relationship.
She turned her face away from the screen and looked at Quinn, at the hard, unyielding line of his jaw and knew she couldn’t say what was in her heart. Not now, perhaps not ever. He glanced up and caught her watching him. “Don’t worry about me, Daisy,” he said quietly, leaning forward to touch her cheek with the tips of his fingers. His touch was light and fleeting but its effect on Daisy’s nerve endings was anything but. She held herself very still to keep from giving into the temptation to lean into his hand, snuggling against his palm just as Brianna was nestled against his shoulder. The caress seemed to take Quinn by surprise as much as it had her. He dropped his hand and sat back abruptl
y. Brianna squirmed against his shoulder disturbed by his sudden movement. Automatically he began to pat her back. “It’s been this way between the two of us for a long time,” he said gruffly. “I’m used to it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She couldn’t hold his gaze. There was darkness in his eyes and sorrow that she knew instinctively he didn’t want her to see. The subject of his relationship with his mother was one he didn’t intend to pursue. She would respect his wishes even though her heart was heavy with sorrow. She took a quick, steadying breath, forcing her mind away from the shattering impact of his touch. She raised the volume on the TV slightly so that they wouldn’t have to sit in silence, but not loud enough that the sound of the big engines roaring to life would startle Brianna who had settled once more. “So,” she said with false brightness. “Tell me where Eli finished in case I fall asleep again.”
CHAPTER TEN
BY TUESDAY THE RAIN had ended and the heat of early September had returned. Quinn was getting ready to go into Charlotte to take care of a number of things at the office that had been waiting his attention through the long holiday weekend. She and Brianna were going with him as far as Mooresville where they would spend the afternoon holding court at Cut ’N’ Chat and then, if Brianna wasn’t too fussy, they would join the Tarts for their regular evening at Maudie’s Down Home Diner.
Daisy was relieved to be spending the day on her own. She couldn’t seem to get the memory of Quinn’s fleeting caress out of her thoughts or her dreams. It was the starting point for a whole series of intimate, sensual imaginings that told her she was much closer to falling in love with him than she had ever thought she would be.
She had no idea how he felt about her.
She knew she was going to have to leave this secluded cabin soon. The realization saddened her more than she wanted to admit. It was definitely time to go, to get her life back under her own control. Today she would make plans with Rue and Sheila to return to her apartment. Her ankle was still not as strong as she would like it to be but she couldn’t stay here, alone, with Quinn any longer. Not if she didn’t want to fall completely and helplessly in love with him and end up with a broken heart.
“Ready to go?” he asked coming out of the kitchen with the small insulated cooler she used for Brianna’s bottles.
“Ready.” She gave him a blinding smile that probably looked as manufactured as it felt and held up her tote. “Everything we need for a girls’ day out on the town.” It had taken her almost half an hour to pack everything she thought was essential to her daughter’s comfort. Soon she wouldn’t have the luxury of spending ten minutes picking out just the right outfit, deciding on which receiving blanket was the best match for the little pink jumper with the tiny bunnies embroidered on the front, whether to dress her daughter in the crocheted booties or the tiny white shoes and lacy anklets. She wanted to savor every moment.
“I brought the car around while you were getting Brianna ready.” He reached for Brianna’s carrier.
Daisy shook her head. “I’ll do it,” she said. “My ankle’s almost healed. It’s time I got used to carrying her.”
Quinn frowned. “Are you sure? The yard’s still pretty rough.”
“I’m sure,” Daisy said firmly. She had made her decision in the sleepless hours before dawn. She was going home, soon. She had no other choice.
His eyebrows drew together as his frown deepened. Was he reading her thoughts again? It didn’t matter. He would know soon enough that she was leaving for good.
“Daisy—”
“We’d better get started. You’ve got plenty of work to catch up on before the weekend.” Quinn was going to Richmond for the last race before the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup began. Eli Ward was on the bubble, thirteenth in points. A good finish Sunday would move him up in the standings and qualify him for the ten-race Chase. He would leave for Virginia on Friday morning.
She would leave on Thursday. It would be better that way.
“We need to talk,” he said, retaining his grip on Brianna’s carrier. “We need to talk about—”
“This evening,” she said, hurriedly. She wanted to have all her options laid out, all her arguments ready or she was afraid she would weaken and give in to the growing desire, the growing need inside her, to stay, here, with Quinn.
“Not this evening,” he said forcefully. “Now—” A knock on the door stopped him in mid-sentence. “Are you expecting anyone this morning?”
Daisy shook her head, suddenly apprehensive. It had been so peaceful and she felt so secure in Quinn’s company she had almost forgotten the danger August Carlyle’s threats posed to her and her child. She looked past Quinn’s shoulder, alarmed to see a sleek, black sports car parked behind Quinn’s SUV. “Don’t open the door,” she said, giving voice to her fears.
It was too late. Quinn had already set Brianna’s carrier down on the couch and opened the door. His broad shoulders blocked Daisy’s view. Acting on instinct she reached down and picked up the sleeping baby, holding her tight against her heart. “Who is it, Quinn?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her but spoke directly to the person on the other side of the screen. “Mom, what are you doing here?”
His mother? Daisy relaxed a tiny fraction, not really certain why, only that her greatest fear, that it was August Carlyle himself standing on the porch, had not come true. She reached out and touched Quinn’s arm. He moved out of the doorway but didn’t invite his mother inside.
Fiona Carlyle’s gaze was locked on Brianna’s face as she slept against Daisy’s shoulder. The cool, composed expression she usually wore dissolved into softness. “She looks so much like the pictures I’ve seen of Brendan at that age,” she whispered and Daisy saw the shimmer of tears in the older woman’s eyes.
Eyes almost exactly the same incredible blue of Quinn’s.
Daisy was a mother now and she sensed the older woman’s emotional response to Brianna was real. Fiona Carlyle was a mother grieving for a lost child, not her flesh and blood, it was true, but a child of her heart. This woman had lost part of herself when Brendan died, and she had nothing left of him but memories. And adding to that burden of grief was her estrangement from her own son. Sadness and pity welled up inside Daisy. She made a decision she hoped she would not regret and reached past Quinn to open the screen door. “Come in, Mrs. Carlyle,” she said, taking a step back.
“Thank you.” Fiona Carlyle was dressed as expensively and impeccably as she had been the day she and her husband came to the hospital, but beneath the flawless makeup Daisy saw strain and the dark shadows of sleepless nights.
“What do you want, Mom?” Quinn asked. Daisy was standing close enough to feel the waves of tension radiating from him although his voice betrayed no emotion beyond politeness.
Fiona made an effort to tear her eyes away from Brianna. She clasped her hands around her designer shoulder bag—one that Daisy knew for a fact would cost her more than a week’s salary and tips—and faced her son. Her expression didn’t change when she encountered his cool indifference but she stuttered slightly, betraying her inner turmoil. “I…I came to see the baby. To see Brendan’s little girl.”
“Does August know you’re here?”
Fiona lifted her chin, as though she had had enough of his cross-examination, and Daisy recognized a feminine version of Quinn’s stubbornness in the gesture. “No, I came on my own.”
“I’m surprised you stepped that far out of line,” Quinn said darkly.
“I don’t always tell your stepfather everything I do,” she returned, but Daisy could see the words had hit a vulnerable spot.
“Quinn, let your mother say what she came to say,” Daisy interrupted.
“Thank you. I don’t wish you any harm, Daisy. I just wanted to ask you to meet with my husband and try to work something out between you.”
Daisy shook her head. “I don’t think that’s possible. I’m sorry but I don’t trust your husband at all.”
“He
’s not a bad man, just one that is used to getting his own way. Losing Brendan was a terrible blow to my husband. Brianna is all that he has left of his son.” Fiona looked to Quinn as if hoping against hope that he might agree with her. He remained silent and Fiona seemed to wilt a little under his impassive stare. “This wasn’t a good idea, me coming out here, was it?” she said finally.
Daisy didn’t want to feel sorry for Quinn’s mother. It was so much easier to stay strong when her heart was filled with anger and righteous indignation toward both the Carlyles. She didn’t want to start thinking about Fiona’s loss, her heartache, all that she would miss out on in her grandchild’s life, but she couldn’t retreat. Fiona might not be as much of a danger as she had thought before but she was convinced August still was. “I won’t change my mind,” she said as much to herself as to Fiona. “Never.”
Brianna started to fuss, sensing Daisy’s distress. Fiona broke eye contact with Daisy and returned her stricken gaze to the baby. “Please,” she said, “may I hold her, just for a moment?”
Daisy wanted to say no. Her own mother hadn’t held Brianna yet, so why should she let this woman? Because Fiona had loved Brianna’s father and lost him and grieved for him, her inner voice prompted. Daisy was a mother now; she understood these things. Fiona deserved the comfort of holding Brendan’s child. “Yes,” Daisy said. “You may hold her.”
Fiona smiled and held out her arms, but before Daisy could hand her the baby, a second car, almost as expensive as the one Fiona drove, pulled into the yard and a short, compact man in a dark suit exited the driver’s side. He was carrying a briefcase. Even though Daisy had never seen him before she knew instinctively he was a lawyer, and his being here could mean nothing but trouble.