More Than This Page 28

She looked around. “What’s wrong with this table?”

  He bent to speak quietly in her ear. “Honey, you’re twelve feet from the kitchen.”

  In truth, she hadn’t noticed, and if she had, it wouldn’t have struck her as odd. “Well, I guess my food will be hot when it arrives.”

  His smile showed deep, dimpled lines bracketing his mouth. This man exuded sexy the way so many others did power. And he knew it.

  “I’m starting to understand Ryan a little better,” he murmured.

  Quinn’s eyes popped wide. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I better get back before the lawyers start looking for me.” He focused on Indy for a minute. “I’m glad you’re here too. I need to put the house search on hold for a while longer. I’ve got a mess on my hands at work, so I’ll be in and out of town a lot.”

  “Okay. Give me a call when you’re ready to resume.”

  He nodded. “Enjoy your meal.”

  “Thanks,” they answered in unison.

  Indy sighed. “There goes that commission.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s looking for another agent. I had a feeling it was too good to be true.”

  The waiter returned with their bottle of wine. Indy placed her order for prime rib. After listening to descriptions, Quinn settled on a sirloin, medium well, with a baked potato on the side. To combat the cholesterol frenzy she was about to consume, she added a salad to start.

  They ate in silence. Quinn mulled over the quiet in her life. She hadn’t been on any dates. No one who tagged her profile sounded even remotely interesting. She had accumulated more than a full week of comp time at school. Brian had been right. She would probably never use it.

  “Do you ever feel restless with your life?”

  Indy’s question had Quinn putting down her fork. “How do you mean?”

  “Like something’s not right, but you can’t quite put a finger on it. You know you need a change, though.”

  Quinn nodded. Indy voiced where her own thoughts had been headed. “That’s pretty much my whole life right now. I wish I’d never taken this summer off.”

  “You’ve had a great time.”

  “Yeah, but if I had stuck with my safe, predictable routine, I wouldn’t be searching for something better now.” She pushed the remaining leaves of lettuce around on the chilled plate.

  “Then this summer taught you that you weren’t really happy before.”

  She laid her fork across her plate. “But I thought I was. Maybe not giddy with happiness, but I was content.”

  Indy’s mouth formed a straight line. “Don’t we all deserve more?”

  Quinn realized Indy was talking about herself as much as Quinn. “I used to think so.”

  “What would make you happy?”

  Quinn heaved a sigh. It came back to the list. “I want to have a baby. I want to be a mom.”

  Deeper than that, she knew her true vision was one of a whole family. She kept trying to adjust the dream to coincide with reality.

  Another week closer to her vacation and Quinn had decisions to make. She dialed Indy’s number before she lost her nerve. “Hey, Indy. I need a favor.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I want you to find out what my loft is worth and put it on the market.” Her right hand tightened into a fist, waiting for Indy’s explosion.

  She didn’t disappoint. “What? Your loft is perfect. Why would you want to sell? Especially in this market. Where are you going to go?”

  Here goes nothing. “I want to liquidate to get as much cash as I can. I’m going to try to get pregnant as soon as I get back from vacation.”

  Indy paused and Quinn knew she was trying to choose her words carefully. “Where will you live?”

  “I’ll rent something small until I have the baby. Then I think I’ll move home.” She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.

  “Home? To Hooperville? You’re kidding, right? You love it here.”

  “I haven’t been happy with my job, and the loft is not the kind of home I want for my child. I want a backyard with swings and stuff.”

  “So you plan to go home and do what? Buy a single-wide?”

  Quinn swallowed hard. “Do you have to put down everything? Home was never as bad as you make it sound.”

  “Did you think what it’ll be like going back there as an unwed mother?”

  The words stung, despite her protest. “The town is not that conservative.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the town. I meant Dad.”

  She hadn’t given that any real thought. She’d gotten used to only speaking with their father long distance, with the rare visit. “He’ll be fine.”

  Indy snorted in her ear. “I dare you to run the idea past him.”

  “It’s my life. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  “It’s a whole lot easier to dismiss his derisive attitude from two hundred and eighty miles away.”

  Quinn felt a headache coming on and rubbed her temple. “I have time to develop a solid approach for Dad. I’m not even trying to get pregnant yet. No matter what, the loft has to go. Can you please check into it for me?”

  “I will. I’ll also look into renting it. Get the right person in there, and you’ll make money and keep your equity.”

  “Thanks. Don’t forget we have the singles thing I signed us up for Sunday night. Bye.” She hung up quickly, knowing Indy would argue about attending. Quinn was tired of fighting. It would be good for Indy to get out and meet people. She could pass her cards out to possible clients. Even better, she might step out of the box Richard tried to keep her in.

  Quinn settled on her couch to review the information she gathered from the fertility specialist. So much to consider. It was a huge step. A rock settled in her stomach.

  How would she handle questions about her pregnancy? She hadn’t considered all the closed-minded people who would take issue with her choice to be a single mom.

  Her doorbell rang. “Yes,” she said into the intercom, expecting it to be a mistake.

  “Pizza.”

  “I didn’t order a pizza.”

  “But you want some, don’t you?”

  She recognized Ryan’s voice and buzzed him up. Leaving the door ajar, she went to check the fridge for drinks. They hadn’t had plans, but over the past couple of weeks, Ryan had occasionally shown up unexpectedly and they hung out. She’d come to enjoy his surprise visits.

  “You always buzz up anyone who asks?” Ryan said, closing the door behind him.

  “Only the ones who bring food. Beer or pop?”

  “Pop. I’m working tonight.”

  She grabbed two cans of pop, a pile of napkins, and paper plates. He stood in the living room holding the cardboard box.

  “Here. Put it on the table.” She set down the drinks and quickly piled up the brochures she’d been reading.

  “What have you been up to?” he asked, flipping the lid on the pizza box.

  It was an early dinner, but Quinn was grateful for the distraction. Both the brochures and Indy had given her a lot to think about. “I’ve been preparing for artificial insemination.”

  He said nothing as he bit into the first slice of pizza.

  “No opinion?”

  “Of course I have an opinion. You didn’t ask for it.” He wiped a napkin across his chin.

  “I didn’t know you needed a formal invitation. I’m asking.” She slid two small slices onto a paper plate and settled in on the couch. She stretched her legs out until her ankles rested on Ryan’s lap.

  “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

  “How so?” She blew on her pizza, wanting to sink her teeth in but fearing a blistered mouth.

  “What happens when you find a guy you want to spend your life with? Is it fair for you to expect him to raise another man’s child?”

  She swallowed a gob of cheese. “First, I don’t think I’m going to meet my soul mate. I don’t know he exists. Secon
d, it’s pretty common to have blended families these days because of the divorce rate.”

  Ryan finished off two more pieces of pizza and didn’t comment. He cleared his throat. “I’ve thought a lot about you asking me to be your sperm donor.”

  Her heart kicked, but she kept her mouth shut.

  “I want you to be happy, Quinn. But I don’t think I can do it. I want a family someday. A big one. I don’t think I could live knowing there was a little O’Leary running around that wasn’t really mine.”

  Her stomach sank. She’d known this would be his answer, of course, but hearing it made it harder to swallow. She forced a smile. “I figured as much. It’s not like I was counting on it. Thanks for considering it.”

  After a few moments of silence, she needed to know they were still on solid ground. She needed to connect with him. “How’s the bar? Have there been any more rapes?”

  His face clouded with anger and she knew the answer before he spoke. “Three more.”

  “And the cops still don’t have any leads?”

  He shook his head. Something else bothered him.

  “It didn’t happen at O’Leary’s, did it?”

  “No, we’ve escaped so far. But I also have two off-duty firemen watching the crowd every night in addition to my usual staff.” He tossed his unfinished slice back in the box and wiped his hands clean.

  He absently began rubbing her bare feet. She closed her eyes briefly and enjoyed the comforting strokes. When she looked at him through slitted eyelids, the strain seeped from his face, but she felt it. She wondered when exactly they’d gotten to the point of solid friendship.

  Sure, their attraction still simmered beneath the surface, but the care they had for each other kept it in check. She began to think she made the right choice in backing away.

  “Let’s talk about something fun.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “How’s the list? You haven’t mentioned it in weeks.”

  She wiggled her emerald green toes with a proud smirk. “Because it’s done. I had dinner at Gibson’s last week and I’m leaving for New Orleans next week.”

  “Easier than you expected, huh?”

  “Not at all. I wouldn’t have finished half the list without your help. And they all weren’t successful. Posing nude was as horrid as it gets, but at least I made the attempt. The summer romance is a complete failure.”

  “My offer to use my camera is still open.” His hands moved over her calf as he spoke.

  She raised her knees to pull her legs in. “No, thanks. One humiliating experience is enough.”

  “We both know I wouldn’t humiliate you.”

  Her heart beat rapidly. Why had she thought their desire was held in check? His gaze caressed her body.

  She swallowed hard and her eyes met his. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Tell me about New Orleans.”

  Her breathing slowed as she thought of her vacation. She said nothing as he took her feet back to his lap. “I have a handful of things I want to do, and more that are maybes. I haven’t quite figured out a schedule yet.”

  He laughed. “Schedule? It’s a vacation. You’re supposed to go and play it by ear.”

  “I might not fit everything in.”

  “Then you have an excuse to take another vacation.”

  She sighed. “Not likely.” She paused. “Are you going to tell me what’s been eating at you?”

  “That obvious?” He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Not obvious, but right there below the surface. For a while, I thought the rapes were bothering you, but it’s more.”

  He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “It’s my sister Maggie.”

  “The youngest.”

  “She’s got it in her head to go to Europe.”

  She swung her legs over the edge of the couch and sat up. “And?”

  “Maggie’s . . . a kid. She can’t take care of herself.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, but she’s grown. By her age, I was married and starting my career.”

  He rolled his head to face her. “Exactly. She should finish school, not be running around Europe.”

  He didn’t even poke at her failed marriage. He was seriously worried.

  “I took a trip to Europe one summer in college. I was younger than she is. Why does she want to go?”

  “She says to study and experience different cultures. She wants to write.” He leaned back.

  “Why don’t you believe her?”

  “I do. She’s always been a writer, but she’s running away.”

  “From?”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Me. Chicago. Everything.”

  She inched closer and waited. With every word he spoke, the stress lifted from him. He carried a world of worry with him.

  “Maggie used to be one of the tenants above the bar. She stayed while my dad started the remodeling. After he died, the work fell to the wayside. We were all pretty shaken. Maggie continued to live there alone. She worked at the bar while she tried to figure out what she wanted to do with her life.

  “She was pretty wild. Guys always chasing after her. That’s why I liked her working at the bar, so I could keep an eye on her. She had an ex-boyfriend who kept popping up and bothering her. One night, she drank too much, and he took her upstairs and raped her.”

  He sat, fists clenched, rage vibrating the air around him.

  Quinn wanted to reach out to him, but waited. “I’m so sorry.”

  She thought of how the current rapes must torment him.

  “She fell apart. For more than a year, she could barely leave my mom’s house. Now she wants to go to Europe.”

  Quinn clasped her hands. “Sounds like she’s trying to reclaim her life.”

  “I know. I’m worried about her.”

  She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him now. She stroked his head until she felt his tense muscles go limp. At that moment, she realized she’d become his Comfort Cookies. “Can I say something without you getting mad?”

  He pulled from her embrace but stayed close enough to toy with her hair. “Go ahead.”

  “It looks to me like she’s not the only one running.”

  He responded with raised eyebrows.

  “For weeks you’ve been showing up here to hang out. I think I’m your escape. Not that I mind. It’s what friends are for.”

  “Perceptive and beautiful.”

  She had half a second to smile before his mouth covered hers. His tongue slipped past her lips and hers answered. Her mind fogged.

  Her hands remained in her lap, and his fingers touched only her head and face, but her body hummed in response.

  When her hands rose to tangle in his hair, she caught herself and jerked away from him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He tucked her hair behind her ear and she tossed her head from his touch. “I didn’t plan to do that.”

  She moved her body back on the couch. The kiss had been heady and wonderful, but she grasped her resolve. “Don’t let it happen again,” she joked.

  “I’ll try.” He rose. “I’m heading to the bar.”

  She stood and took his hand. “Talk to Maggie. Seriously listen to her. Try to understand. She needs that.”

  “Thanks. I will.” He bent and kissed her cheek.

  “Will you be at Twilight Sunday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Mary got me to sign up for the singles thing again.”

  “I guess I’ll have to be there to help you weed through the jerks.”

  Closing the door behind him, she knew he’d been trying to keep the conversation light, especially after that kiss, but she couldn’t think of him that way anymore. He’d become so much more than a wingman that hearing him say it made her want to tell him so. Tell him what? He was more than a wingman? It sounded stupid even inside her head.

  Ryan had spent the next two days gutting the apartment
across the hall. He had three contractors coming by to give him bids.

  Maggie had made some good points when they’d talked. It was time to move on. His life had become stagnant. He didn’t even live in his own apartment. Maggie blamed herself.

  Since Cassie left, he’d been hiding as much as Maggie had. His collection of one-night stands didn’t amount to a social life. He needed to do something.

  The manual labor and the rhythmic thumping of the sledgehammer offered him time and space to gather his thoughts. They all centered on Quinn. He never thought helping her might kill him.

  Without some man to sweep her off her feet, he was supposed to get a chance, but she’d locked him in as a friend. Now she was talking clinics and sperm donors. He couldn’t compete with the pedigree of any of the donors she was considering. The fact that another man wouldn’t touch her offered him some comfort.

  The weight of the hammer smashed through the last of the plaster and lathe. The entire apartment had been reduced to the old wood studs and the brick exterior.

  His confusion hadn’t abated. His feelings for Quinn were still a mess. He wanted her, that hadn’t changed. He didn’t want to be a dad, though. At least not now. He should cut and run. It was the smart thing to do. There were plenty of other women who didn’t have baby on the brain.

  Quinn had been right. They were good friends.

  Anything more would be a mistake.

  As long as he kept his hands off her, they would remain friends. He’d been enjoying their friendship. Maybe it would be enough.

  He looked over the destruction of the past two days and felt accomplished. For the first time in a long while, his life was moving forward.

  A quiet rap on the door made him growl. “Go away.”

  The knob turned and his mother walked in. “I most certainly will not.”

  He turned to the door. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

  Her dark red hair was streaked with silver, but she never colored it. Her freckles kept her looking much younger than she was. She was short and thin, but far from frail. The woman was made of iron. “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you I’m renovating the apartments.”

  “But you haven’t been home.”

  He took a swig of water. “Between the apartments and the bars, I’ve been busy.”