“That’s right,” Serafin advocated, squeezing Layla’s knee. “We’ve waited a long time for the opportunity to take care of you. We’ll make sure we get it right. Whatever you need, we’ll provide.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve accepted an offer like that,” Layla replied, “but I’m going to try to accept it now. Not only because I miss having a family, but because I saw how hard it was for you guys to leave Ketchum without me.”
“Yes,” Morrigan agreed. “That was the saddest day of our lives, but we don’t want that heartache to be the driving force of our bond, so don’t exhaust yourself trying to make up for lost time. Our dreams have finally come true. All we have to do now is relax and enjoy them.”
Caitrin cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, steering the conversation along brighter paths. “How do you feel about your magic, Layla?”
“It’s amazing,” she gushed. “When Quin first showed me he could perform magic, I was blown away, and of course I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. But then I performed it, and there was no denying the incredible feeling it gave me.”
“Quin says your magic is already impressive,” Serafin noted.
“Quin’s probably just being polite,” Layla countered.
“What have you performed so far?” Caitrin asked.
“Well, the first thing I did was find Quin’s aura while he was concealed, which was amazing, but it was nothing compared to the second thing.”
Morrigan curled her legs on the couch and moved closer. “What was the second thing?”
“I shot a fireball from my hand,” Layla exclaimed. “It was crazy. It felt so... invigorating.”
Serafin laughed and traded a glance with Caitrin. “A fireball was the second bit of magic you performed?”
“Yeah,” she answered.
“That is impressive,” Caitrin commended. “Fire’s the trickiest element.”
“That’s what Quin said, but I loved it. I hope I get to try it again soon.”
“You don’t have to hope,” Morrigan pointed out. “You can step outside and shoot a fireball now if you’d like.”
Layla’s eyes widened. “I guess I could. Weird.” But she didn’t jump up and become the fire starter she was tempted to be. She was far too comfortable wedged between her grandmas.
“You have plenty of time,” Serafin assured, checking his watch. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Um... I don’t know. I keep forgetting to think about food. It’s been like that for two days. If it weren’t for Quin, I would have starved.”
“I’ll have to thank him for keeping my granddaughter alive,” Caitrin noted.
Layla looked at her coffee, cheeks growing tingly and warm. “Like I said, Quin’s been wonderful. There’s more to thank him for than feeding me.”
“We’ll be sure to do that,” Morrigan replied, touching Layla’s cheek. “Would you like to eat dinner with us? Or would you rather have dinner with Quinlan?”
Layla jerked her head up, face flaming. “I don’t... I haven’t... I didn’t make dinner plans with Quin.”
“I know, sweetie,” Morrigan soothed, squeezing her arm. “I’m merely asking your preference.”
“Oh. Well he’s probably busy after dealing with me all weekend, and dinner with you guys sounds great.”
Caitrin and Serafin suddenly stood from their chairs. Then they glanced at each other before turning back to Layla.
“Would you like me to invite Quinlan to dinner with us?” Caitrin asked.
Blasted hot cheeks. Although, her aura probably incriminated her more than her skin, so she sucked it up and faced the fact that she was busted. “Sure, but please tell him he doesn’t have to join us if he doesn’t want to.”
“Of course,” Caitrin agreed. “I’ll be right back.” He stared at Layla for a long and thoughtful moment. Then he blew Morrigan a kiss and left the house.
“What would you like to eat?” Serafin asked.
“Um…” Layla mumbled, trying to think of something crowd-pleasing. “You like spaghetti. Let’s have that.”
“May I ask how you know that?” he returned, titling his head.
Layla didn’t want to bum everyone out, so she purposefully kept her voice pleasant. “I watched you have lunch with my dad in your workshop, the day he told you about my mom.”
Serafin’s mind drifted, but his smile remained. “Ah, yes. I remember the conversation, but forget the meal. Thanks for reminding me. Do you like spaghetti?”
“Sure.”
“Then we’ll have spaghetti.” He headed for the kitchen, lightly running a hand across Daleen’s head, and her bonded light brightened, only to fade once he left the room.
Morrigan scooted closer, pulling one of Layla’s curls to her nose. “Have you had a chance to see the house?”
“No, but that reminds me, I got to hear you play piano, and you –are—amazing. Do you have a piano at your house? Did you teach my mom to play? I would love to learn sometime.”
“Slow down,” Morrigan laughed. “Yes, I have a piano at my house. Yes, I did teach Rhosewen to play. And yes, I would love to show you what I know.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely, but first you have to tell me when and where you heard me play.”
“Oh yeah. At Karena’s inn. Quin asked the front desk for your CD when he checked me in. I thought he was trying to impress me by saying he knew you, but now that I know the whole story...” She trailed off, recalling the way Quin had thoughtfully led her home. “Anyway, he offered to introduce me to you. I thought it was just talk, but I’m learning almost everything he says holds deeper meaning than mindless chit chat.”
“Quinlan’s a meditative soul,” Morrigan agreed. Then she raised her eyebrows and glanced at the door. “Speaking of.”
Caitrin walked in, followed by Quin, and Layla couldn’t help but grin. Then she realized how cheesy she must look and chewed her lip.
Morrigan rose and took Caitrin’s hand, brightening the room with shimmering gold. Then they followed Daleen to the kitchen.
The moment Quin saw Layla’s smiling face, his frustration melted and his pulse quickened. He watched her from across the room as her grandparents made their exit, a tingle rolling down his relaxed spine. Then he closed the gap and sat beside her. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey,” she greeted, grinning despite her blush.
“It went well?” he asked.
“Very well,” she answered.
“Good,” he approved, leaning in for a kiss. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”
“I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything.”
He straightened and stretched one arm across the back of the sofa, watching her eyes flit over his chest. “Well you did.”
“I’m sorry,” she offered, meeting his stare. “What were you doing?”
He smiled and picked up a curl. “I was fretting over you, and believe me, I needed to be pulled away.”
“Oh,” she murmured, unable to hide a smug grin as she cuddled into him. “I would have invited you sooner if I’d known.”
“That’s good to know,” he replied, wrapping her in a hug, “but you needed time with them without me getting in the way.”
“They’re wonderful, Quin. I had no idea what I’ve been missing.”
“They’re over the moon about seeing you. I’ve never seen their auras so alive.”
“You were right about the bonded lights,” she added. “They’re beautiful.”
“Then you should fit right in,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair.
Layla wiggled closer as an odd feeling swept over her, somehow tantalizing and satisfying all at once. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and it was wonderful. “I missed you, Quin.”
“I missed you, too, Layla.”
“I hope I didn’t put you on the spot by inviting you to dinner with my grandparents. I know you were concerned about the situation.”
“Don’
t worry about me,” he insisted. “I’ve been dining with Caitrin and Morrigan my entire life, so it’s not the least bit awkward. Besides, they’ve avoided asking too many personal questions, and those they have asked were merely voiced for your benefit. Their main concern is your well being. Now that they’ve seen for themselves that you’re safe and happy and perfectly capable of tossing me out should I misbehave, they’re not so worried about me scaring you away.”
“You’re not scary,” she teased, turning her face into his neck. “You’ve got nothing on the super witch.”
“Oh yeah?” he returned, softly tickling her sides. “We might have to test that theory.”
Layla was extremely ticklish, to the point where prolonged tickling made her manic, so his light touch launched her into uncontrollable giggles. “Not fair,” she squealed. “Tickling’s my kryptonite.”
“Good to know,” he laughed, moving his fingers to the back of her neck.
She squeaked and rolled her head. “Quin! You’re not playing fair.”
“Who said anything about playing fair?” he returned, sliding his hands to her ribs.
Layla was on the brink of screaming and couldn’t take much more, so she filled her lungs and grabbed his wrists, trying to push them away as she dove for his neck.
Her tongue found skin, and he stilled, his chest rumbling as he pulled his wrists from her grip with ridiculous ease. “Now you’ve found my kryptonite,” he noted, cradling her head in both hands.
Layla slowly closed her mouth, gliding teeth over hot flesh. Then she pulled away, cheeks flaming as her thighs twitched. “Good. Now it’s fair.”
He grinned and hugged her to his chest. Then he buried his face in her hair until Daleen called them to dinner.
Chapter 6
“THREE HOURS?” LAYLA EXCLAIMED, FLIPPING her gaze to Quin. “You balanced on one leg for three hours just to prove you could?”
Her grandparents laughed, and Quin smiled as he chewed and swallowed his food. “What else does a five-year-old have to do on a Saturday?”
Layla’s mouth hung open as she watched him take the last bite of his pie. The more she learned about him—which was a lot after dining with Caitrin and Morrigan—the more admirable his dedication became. When he set his mind on something, it gained his full attention, not some half-ass attempt.
Morrigan rose and moved to the coffee maker, brewing a fresh pot. “If we didn’t challenge him, he would get bored and become our little mischief maker.”
“Indeed,” Caitrin confirmed, clearing the table with a sweep of his hand. “We’d walk outside to find he’d vanished our porch or grown the grass taller than our heads.”
“You didn’t,” Layla gasped, unable to hide her humor.
Quin winked as he took a drink. Then he set his glass aside and rested his arm on the back of her chair. “They talk like I’m alone in the mischief making, but I wasn’t the first kid to turn our lawn into a jungle, and I won’t be the last.”
“He speaks the truth,” Caitrin attested, taking his wife by the waist. “We are a mischievous breed.” He scanned Morrigan’s aura as he stood. Then he kissed her cheek. “Let’s give Layla a break, sweet peach, and go get some rest.”
“What?” Layla blurted, shooting from her chair. “You don’t have to leave on my account. You just made coffee.”
“I made it for you,” Morrigan explained, reaching for Layla’s hand as she rounded the table. “You’ve had a big weekend. We don’t want you to feel like you have to make up for twenty-one years in one night. Relax and let everything soak in. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Layla nodded, but she clutched Morrigan’s hand like it was the last one on earth.
Morrigan smiled and pulled her into a hug. “Daleen and I are staying home tomorrow. Would you like to spend some time with us?”
“Yes,” Layla answered, not even trying to hide her desperation.
“That makes me so happy,” Morrigan whispered. “Give us a call in the morning, anytime. We’ll be ready when you are. Our number’s by the phone.”
“Okay,” Layla agreed, staying glued to Morrigan’s side as everyone walked to the foyer.
They halted by the door, and Layla severed her attachment to Morrigan so she could hug the others. Caitrin was the last to hold her, and he kept his hands on her shoulders as he leaned back. “If you need anything, call us. Even if you just want to talk. Okay?”
“I promise,” she assured.
“Good.” He watched her face for a moment then kissed her forehead. “We’ll see you soon, Layla Love. Very soon.”
She nodded her approval. Then she passed out another round of hugs before letting them leave. They were all smiles, but Layla’s eyes swam with moisture, blurring and magnifying their departing auras and bonded lights. The door closed behind them, and its soft thud echoed deep in Layla’s head as she recalled the details of the reunion, making sure she had them memorized.
Quin’s hands covered her shoulders, and she jolted before turning and hugging his waist. “Do you have to leave, too?”
“Nope.”
“So you’ll stay?”
“I’d love to.”
Comforted by his continued company, she leaned back and smiled. “What do you want to do?”
His dark eyes glinted as his lips twitched, and his aura picked up speed, drawing Layla’s attention from his ignited gaze.
“This is nice,” he answered, brushing her hair from her face. “But we can do something more productive if you’d like.”
How did he effortlessly maintain eye contact when so aroused? Layla could barely meet his stare. Now that she knew what he wanted to do, she wanted to do it, too, and that mortified her. Partly because she wasn’t used to feeling that way, let alone sharing the news, and partly because she wasn’t ready to feel that way.
She scooted back and averted her gaze, putting some space between them. The last thing she wanted to be was a tease.
The haze rushing around him halted, like it had turned into a solid. Then it pulsed once before drawing closer to his body. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she answered, offering what she hoped was a casual smile.
He reached out, covering her lips with his thumb. “That’s a lie.”
Busted. “I guess.”
“Come here,” he insisted, pulling her closer. “These lips are too beautiful to lie, so out with it. Why did you back away?”
She pouted as she watched him, ashamed of her bold faced lie, but she couldn’t help but feel a little justified. “Can’t a girl have her secrets?”
“Yes, until they start pulling you away from me. If there’s a reason why you don’t want me to hold you, just say it. I’ll respect your wishes and do my best to understand. But don’t leave me wondering what went wrong.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to sharing my feelings with people. It’s embarrassing.”
“I can tell. But what do you think I’m going to do? Laugh at you?”
“No.”
“Then tuck that pretty pout in and tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t want to lead you on,” she blurted, like a dam bursting. Her cheeks flamed, but she forced herself to continue. “I’m not ready to follow through with anything, so I gave you some space… to be fair.”
“I see,” he replied, a smile tugging on his lips.
“Are you trying not to laugh?” she scolded.
“No,” he assured, “but I think it’s sweet you’re worried about me.”
“It’s not all about you. I don’t want you to be frustrated with me.”
Without any warning, he scooped her legs out from under her, softly catching her back in his other arm.
“Wha…” she muttered, finding his face.
But he ignored her scowl and carried her to the couch, making her comfortable on his lap as he urged her cheek to his chest. “I won’t lie and say I don’t want it, but that’s not why I’m here. I know you’re
not ready, and that’s okay. I feel blessed to be on the receiving end of your kisses and wouldn’t dare push my luck by asking for more.”
Layla furrowed her eyebrows as she searched his aura. “Really?”
“Really,” he returned. “I’m not in a hurry, so I won’t get upset with you for making me wait. But if you make me stop touching you, I’ll be very sad.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Okay.”
“What’s okay?” he pressed, sliding his palms down her sides. “This?”
Layla closed her eyes, sighing her agreement as his hands slid under her shirt. He flexed his fingers, inciting goose bumps and a shiver. Then he took her by the ribs and squeezed.
A laugh burst from her diaphragm as she jolted and twisted away, reaching for the safety of the floor, but he pulled her back in.
“No you don’t,” he refused, somehow finding every ticklish spot on her body.
“Quin!”
“What?”
She struggled to breathe as she pushed on his chest. “Stop.”
“Or what?” he challenged, sliding a hand to her thigh.
She yanked in air as she stretched for his neck, and in her desperation, she sucked harder than she’d intended. His game ceased, and she softened, puckering around his strong pulse.
“Mmm…” he murmured. “You could calm a battlefield with those lips.”
She slid her fingers into his hair as she pressed closer, kissing again and again; and it made her heady, as if he’d bathed in wine. He swept her hair aside, exposing the sensitive dip between her shoulder blades, and as his hand spanned bare skin, she quivered with an internal throb she’d never felt before. Her heart stuttered then sped, and warmth surged her veins, intensely flaring in some areas while soothing others.
The hand on her thigh flexed around fluctuating muscles then slid to the tender spot below her hip, leaving a charged trail in its wake. She twitched as he gathered her skirt in his fist, his sigh floating through curls to stimulate her scalp. Then he unfurled his fist and extended his fingers, grasping her pelvic bone and butt in one firm handful.
Impassion Page 6