There's No Place Like Home (The MacQuire Women Book 2)

by Peggy Jaeger

  He rubbed the back of his hand down her face from temple to chin.

  “So,” he said at last, “When I said to you I didn’t want our first time together to be on a couch, it brought all that back, didn’t it?”

  She nodded and burrowed her face into his chest. Gently, he pulled her shoulders back, forcing her to look at him. “I’m sorry I made you relive it all. But I feel better now knowing what happened.”

  “It’s over, Q. If anything, this entire, horrible incident has forced me to reexamine my life and try to figure out what I want to do with it.”

  His eyes were warm and soft when he gazed down at her. “Any thoughts on what?”

  With a shake of her head, she said, “Still working on it.”

  “Well, you can start with this,” he said, tugging her across his lap and kissing her. Against her lips he asked, “Do you want this? Do you want to be with me, like this, Moira?” His mouth skimmed down her jaw, up her cheek, to take one of her ear lobes into his mouth. “Do you want me in your life, like this, now?”

  “More than I’ve ever wanted anything,” she told him, tears brimming. “More than anything.”

  The smile he gave her made her toes curl. It started at one corner of his mouth then lazily crawled to the other side, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with it.

  “You don’t know how happy I am for you to admit it.”

  “I think,” she said, tracing a finger along his bottom lip, “I do.” She replaced her finger with her lips and, slaking her hands around his neck, pulled him to her so she fell backward on the couch, Quentin’s body on top of hers. The weight of him, the touch of his long torso and legs, dwarfed her, consumed her, and she drank in the feel of him, so hard and so hot, on top of her. She knew he took most of his weight on his elbows, but what she did feel was all man and all hers. He kissed her, once again running his tongue over her lips until she parted them on a sigh and took all of him into her mouth. Gently now, lazily, he twined his tongue with hers, tasting her, being tasted, pleasuring and being pleasured.

  “I want to continue this,” he sighed against her neck, “desperately. But I think we both need a little time.” He pulled back up onto his elbows and took her face in his hands. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night. Here. I want us to be alone, no one else around, no one to intrude or interrupt. I want you to myself, Moira. All to myself.”

  She knew what he was asking, what he wanted from her. It mirrored everything she wanted as well.

  “I have rounds most of the day, but we can have dinner here. I still owe you a slasher movie marathon,” he added, chuckling and kissing her cheek. “What do you say?”

  “Dinner and a movie. Sounds like a date.”

  “The first of many,” he promised, kissing her once more, lightly. “Come on.” He rose and pulled her up with him. “I promised your father I’d get you home safe.”

  She clicked her tongue and pouted. “Again, here’s a perfect example of what I meant. You’d think I was five years old and couldn’t get home on my own without something bad happening.”

  “You’re the only girl he has, M. Think about Cole. Alaina’s his only girl now, too. I bet he’s gonna worry about her when she’s grown and married with kids of her own.”

  She sighed, heavily. “You’re probably right.” She got her purse from where she’d dropped it on the foyer table. Glancing once more up at the painting above the fireplace, she said, “You know, I never got the house tour.”

  “Tomorrow,” he told her, kissing her lips. “Tomorrow you’ll see everything.”

  When he dropped her off at the farmhouse a few minutes later, she admitted to herself she truly didn’t want to leave him. The Stapleton’s car was still parked in the drive, as well as Pat’s.

  “Want to come in?” she asked. “Seems like the party started up again.”

  “In all honesty I’m beat,” he told her. “I’d rather just go have a beer. Wind down. It’s been a memorable day.”

  “That’s one word for it. Do not, I repeat, do not get out of this truck,” she told him when he started to open his door. “I can walk up those stairs all by myself. Besides, I don’t want to get involved with kissing you good night again,” she added, her lips lifting. “I’m not strong enough.”

  He leaned over and planted a hard and fast kiss on her mouth. “I’m waiting until you’re inside before I leave,” he told her. “No arguments.”

  “Okay. Do you need me tomorrow during the day?”

  “Moira.” The word was more a caress than a statement of her name. “I need you all day, every day.”

  Her heart flipped again and she felt her eyes grow moist. “That’s just sweet,” she said, squeezing his thigh, “but I meant at the clinic.”

  “No,” he swallowed a chuckle. “Weekends are staffed well with volunteers. I’ll see you about six tomorrow night then, okay?”

  “No worries,” she told him and hopped down out of the cab. Before closing the door she said, “Stay.”

  “I’m not Rob Roy, M, but I’ll be a good boy.”

  “See that you do. ’Night.”

  “‘Night.”

  True to his word, he waited until she was through the front door.

  “Moira, is that you?” Serena called from the dining room.

  “Yeah, Mom.” She came into the room and saw her parents, the Stapletons and her twin seated around the table, surrounded by food. From the living room, she heard her younger brothers and the Stapleton boys engaged in a video game battle that was loud and raucous.

  “We never got a chance to eat before all the excitement started,” Pat said. “Happy welcome home party.”

  Laughing, she took her usual place at the table. “Thanks. What course are we on?”

  “Whatever you want it to be,” Serena told her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Q didn’t want to come in?”

  “No. He said he was beat and wanted to go home and wind down.”

  “He had a busy morning at the clinic and then farm rounds,” David said, helping himself to his fifth chocolate chip cookie, his wife lifting an eyebrow. “What? They’re as good as yours. I can’t help myself.”

  “A walking appetite.” Serena shook her head and smiled. “That’s what Addie and Mother always called you.”

  “Speaking of Grandma, you know Cole and Tiff named the baby Alaina, right?” Moira asked.

  Serena’s smile was soft and loving. “I think it’s perfect. She’d be so pleased to have a great-grandchild named after her.”

  “The boy’s are calling her Al and Tiffany’s afraid the name is going to stick,” Moira said, filling her glass with water.

  Delilah laughed. “If she turns out to be the powerhouse pixie her mother is, the name will be perfect for her. A little red haired girl named Al. How sweet is that?”

  “I want to go into town tomorrow and pick something up for her,” Moira said. “Cole and Tiff asked Quentin and me to be godparents.”

  Congratulations were given all around.

  “That’s two for you,” Serena said.

  “And a first for Quentin,” Delilah added. “I figured we’d have to wait for Pat to get married and have kids before any god parenting duties came his way.”

  Pat’s face reddened as he finished his tea. “Don’t get me married off too soon, Aunt Dee. I’m fine for the moment.”

  Moira saw Delilah look over the rim of her teacup at Serena, and watched as her mother’s mouth curved upward.

  The conversation turned to the clinic and upcoming projects already planned. Moira listened with half an ear, still reeling from the emotions swirling through her concerning Quentin. If he hadn’t stopped them when he did, Moira knew in her heart they would have become lovers this very night.

  Lovers. Her and Quentin Stapleton. It still boggled her mind.

  And absolutely enchanted her. From best friend, to teenage crush, and now possibly lover by tomorrow night. For the umpteenth time that week Moira was thankful she’d come
back home.

  “Earth to M,” she heard her twin say.

  She turned to him and blinked. “Sorry. Tired all of a sudden. Did you ask me something?”

  “I wanted to know if you’d like to make rounds with me tomorrow morning. I’ve got five clients to go check on. We haven’t had any time together, just you and me, since you got back. You up for it?”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’m up for it. It sounds like fun. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up about eight, okay?”

  She nodded, then caught a yawn in her hand. Excusing herself, she went around the table giving good night kisses and then drifted up to her room. Rob Roy was already sprawled on top of her comforter, snoring. She quickly washed and readied for bed. Just as she cuddled under the covers, her dog’s body leaning against hers, his warmth steeping into her, she heard her cellphone ping. When she picked it up and read the message, her smile came instantly.

  Wish u were here next 2 me in my bed. Miss u. Can’t wait 4 tmrw. Dream abt me. Q.

  Quickly, she typed back: Wish I was there 2. U dream abt me! M

  As she closed her eyes, a smile danced on her lips, and Moira told her dog, “I think I’m in love, boy.”

  The dog snorted in his sleep and yawned.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Showered and dressed, Moira was waiting in the kitchen when her brother arrived promptly at eight A.M.

  “I figured you’d be here early,” she told him, filling a mug for him, “to con Mom into making you breakfast.”

  “Some of us have matured since you’ve been gone,” he told her taking a huge draught of the tea. His sigh was deep and long. “I don’t need to con Mom into making me breakfast anymore. I’m a grown-ass man and can make it for myself.”

  “So, what did you have? Pop tarts or a cereal bar?” she asked sweetly, finishing her tea and rinsing out the cup.

  He chuckled into his cup and mumbled, “Blueberry pop tarts, you pain.”

  She laughed. “Well, at least they were some variant of fruit.”

  When they were seated in his car, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  He listed four farms she wasn’t familiar with and then a fifth that delighted her. “Mr. Calahan’s still breeding labs? That’s wonderful, but he must be close to ninety by now.”

  “He just turned eighty-eight. Good memory, sis. His wife died last year and I think the only thing that’s gotten him through it was the breeding. He wants me to check out the newest batch before he lets them all be adopted. He’s got eight in this litter.”

  “How old are they?”

  “Seven weeks. I saw them when they were a day old, then a week and then two. This’ll be their final checkup.”

  “It’s nice you go to him and not make him haul them all into the clinic.”

  Pat’s shoulders lifted. “Not so much nice as logical. There’s no way he can keep up with them all if he has to transport them, and they’re so cute the staff would probably stop working just to play with them.”

  She laughed and punched him in the upper arm. There was no heat behind the strike, just sisterly love. “You don’t fool me for a second, Padric Oliver. You’d be the one who wouldn’t get any work done, rolling around with them on the floor. I know you. Don’t forget it.”

  He slid her a look across the seat. “Keep it to yourself. I have an image to protect and I don’t want my rep ruined by you.”

  She laughed again. “No worries. I’ll protect your precious reputation.”

  They finished up their first four calls quickly. Moira helped inoculate a new litter of piglets, gave deworming medicine to a herd of goats, treated a mammary infection in a cow, and provided reassurance to the owner of an ancient cat who needed insulin injections.

  “You sure are busy,” she said as they arrived at Mr. Calahan’s farm.

  “And thankful for it,” he said, grabbing his bag. “Carry the scale for me?” He handed it to her, removing it from his trunk.

  “This is new,” she said, positioning it comfortably in her arms to carry. “Digital?”

  “Yup. Mega-accurate. Cost a small fortune, but so worth it for visits like this. Especially if I have to prescribe any meds.”

  Mr. Calahan was waiting at the front door for them, a wide welcoming smile on his old and weathered face.

  “Moira Cleary. I haven’t seen you since the last concert you gave before leaving on tour.”

  “Mr. Calahan,” She leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Still as handsome as ever.”

  His bright blue, sharp eyes were clear and glistened as he assessed her. “And you certainly grew into your beauty, young lady. How are you?”

  “Fine. I’m home now and my slave driver brother here recruited my help this morning.”

  “And what a joy for me, he did. Come in, come in, and meet my little hellions.”

  He led them through the house, kept precision tidy as his wife always had, to the back porch. “I have them all penned in,” he said, “in the yard. They love to romp out here all day long and it wears them out so I get some sleep at night, as does their mama.”

  He held the back door open for both of them to go through.

  “Oh,” Moira cried the moment she laid eyes on the little bundles of black fur scampering about the yard. “They’re gorgeous.”

  At the sound of her voice, all eight little furry bodies ran over to her yipping and jumping at her heels and legs. Moira squatted to rub bellies, scratch behind ears, and generally be nipped and licked all over.

  Her giggles were free and happy. Pat stared down at her, his lips twitching at the corners. “How old are you?” he asked, hands on his hips, laughter swimming in his blueberry colored gaze.

  “Five.” She picked one little fur ball up and rubbed her nose against his. “Oh, this is too much fun.”

  “I can see bringing you was a total waste of manpower,” he said, taking one of the puppies into his arms and scratching it behind the ears.

  “Oh be quiet, Scrooge, and just tell me what you want me to do.”

  Mr. Calahan’s low chuckle sounded behind them. “Seems I remember you two jabbering at one another like this when your daddy used to bring you on his visits. Good to know some things never change.”

  Moira graced him with a smile and then helped her brother weigh and measure the litter.

  “Are they all spoken for?” she asked when they were done. She had two puppies in her lap, one asleep, the other sucking on her fingers.

  “All but those two you’re holding. Runts, both of them, and from the looks of them, they’re gonna be handfuls.”

  “Not these two darlings,” she said, rubbing their noses. “They’ll be great leaders, just you watch.”

  “I’d be honored to give you one, Moira.”

  Moira felt her heart jump with unexpected joy, but then reality set in. She bit her bottom lip and said, “Oh, Mr. Calahan, I’d love it, but I’m still at home and don’t know what I’m going to be doing yet, as far as staying or moving. I don’t have a place to live other than my parent’s right now and I don’t want to commit to a little one like this and then wind up having to leave him all day. Maybe when I’m settled, and you have another litter available.”

  Mr. Calahan shook his head, a sad smile tugging across his mouth. “I wish more people thought like you, young lady. I see it every day. Someone will adopt a dog, then come to realize they don’t have the time or the space to deal with it. That’s why I’m so particular about who I give them to.”

  Both of the puppies where now sleeping in Moira’s arms, and as she placed them gently back down on the grass, tears stung the backs of her eyes.

  They said their goodbyes, Moira squeezing Mr. Calahan into a big hug, and left.

  In the car, she swiped at her eyes. Pat turned to his sister and said, “Q always says you’re so softhearted, and he’s right.”

  Moira shook her head. “I could never do what you guys do everyday. I’d be a blubberin
g mess most of the time, especially if an animal’s sick.”

  As she had before, he lightly punched her upper arm now, and said, “It’s really good to have you home, sis. I hope you stick around.”

  “No place to go,” she said in a soft voice.

  Pat drove in silence for a few moments and then asked, “How are you feeling? Really? And I don’t mean your stomach.”

  With a small shrug, she replied. “Better. I’m still tired, but it’s not the bone weary kind I brought home with me. Working at the clinic has helped.” With a roll of her eyes and a smile she said, “Q’s quite the boss-man when he has available manpower. Especially since I’m a free and able body, according to him.”

  “He’ll have more help soon. So, things have been going okay there?”

  “Yup. I love working with the horses. I always have.”

  Pat nodded. “You ever gonna tell me what really happened while you were gone?”

  Moira blew out a breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “Does it matter so much, Pat? Isn’t is just enough I’m home and getting better?”

  “It would be if I didn’t have the impression whatever happened had affected you so badly. It’s like you were broken when you got here. And I can’t stand that, Moira. I really can’t.”

  He reached across the cab and took one of her hands in his. With a gentle squeeze, he added, “I love you and want you to be okay. I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened.”

  Moira stared down at their hands. Like Quentin’s, her brother’s were large, strong and comforting. “You are helping, Pat, just by being like this. Going on rounds with you today was wonderful. It was like old times with Daddy, just like Mr. Calahan said. I realized how much I missed those times together when he pointed it out.”

  Pat’s lips lifted. “We did have fun, didn’t we, back then? Dad was so patient and the clients never minded having two rambunctious kids helping him.”

  “Speak for yourself.” She squeezed his hand. “I was never rambunctious. That was you. I was always the one referred to as calm and soothing.”