Knock Me Off My Feet (8 page)
She was good, Quinn had to admit. She smiled pleasantly as she rattled off facts and tricks. She looked perfectly in control. She looked as if she enjoyed herself.
It was only when Audie stepped down from the podium that the spell had been broken. She tripped on a microphone cord and nearly fell on her face before the library director grabbed her arm.
About an hour had passed since then, and Audie sat at
a
long wooden table, her legs crossed daintily at the ankles, writing and smiling and nodding. At one point she raised her head, blinked, and looked around the room until she found him.
Quinn watched something pass over her face—relief, maybe. Whatever it was, it was just for him, and it made him smile.
The smile abruptly faded. Quinn felt the hard, cold stare of unfriendly eyes on him and turned in time to see a man disappear around the double doors of the hall. After a quick look Audie's way, Quinn followed.
He found nothing. No one. But he wasn't about to leave Audie alone to go chase after the guy. Besides, he had an appointment with him in a few days.
An appointment with Vice Mayor Tim Burke.
* * *
"I've got to eat something." Audie leaned back in the car seat, closed her eyes, and sighed. She flipped off her shoes. "I thought I'd never get out of there!"
Quinn was driving the Porsche north on
"I'm too tired to go anywhere."
"Then I'll take you nowhere."
"Perfect."
They drove in silence for most of the way as Quinn headed west on Division and north on Clybourn. He pulled into an alley off of
Southport
. In the dark, Audie had no idea where they were—until they whipped into a small parking space adjacent to someone's neatly landscaped backyard.
She turned to him, too tired and hungry to put up much of a fight. "Is the food here any good?"
"Always."
The first thing she noticed was how clean his floors were—shiny, flawless oak strips that ran the narrow length of the house, not a scatter rug to be seen in the whole place.
The next thing she noticed was that Quinn's house immediately put her at ease. There were big, overstuffed chairs, a soft-looking couch, photographs on the walls, and a nice old fireplace. She saw lots of green thriving plants near the windows and the bookcases filled with rows of books arranged by height.
"Make yourself at home," Quinn said, hanging his suit jacket in the hall closet. "Wine?"
She nodded. "Bathroom?"
He pointed up the set of stairs. "Down the hall and to the left."
When she finished in the bathroom, she ripped off her panty hose and balled them up in her hand. Wearing panty hose in the summer in
Chicago
was masochistic, and she sighed with relief to feel the air on her legs.
Audie caught the smell of onions and hot butter and headed toward the stairs, as if pulled by the rich and pungent scent.
But suddenly she stopped, blinked, and stared at the wall of framed photographs beside her—portraits, candids, baby pictures, weddings, communions, landscapes, cityscapes, graduations—all along the upstairs hallway from the chair rail nearly to the ceiling. The faces! So many faces!
The pictures made her smile. Quinn and two other boys in hockey uniforms, one boy missing a front tooth. Scruffy-looking mutts. Fishing trips. First cars.
Her eye moved to one picture, a wedding portrait from what looked like the early 1900s. The man stood stiffly in a suit that didn't quite fit, one large hand clutching a cap against his leg and a sweet, shy smile plastered across his broad face.
His other hand rested hesitantly on the tufted parlor chair that held his bride. Her thick, dark hair was piled loosely on top of her head. Her light eyes danced in the camera flash. The bodice of her gown fit snugly against her tidy figure.
Quinn's great-grandparents, maybe? Audie gazed in wonder at all the people that seemed to radiate from this single old wedding portrait, their placement telling the story of a family.
Audie realized with a start that she was weeping, that a steady flow of silent tears now ran down her face. She swiped at them with the balled-up panty hose and scolded herself for the ridiculous outburst. It had been a long day.
With a deep breath she turned to go, but her heart was having none of it. She looked back and stared. There was joy on that wall. There was life and death and a reason for everything in between. She felt the jealousy stick in her chest like a knife, sending the pain of longing through her.
Damn it, how did her heart become such an empty, awful place? It wasn't right that she felt so disconnected when other people had so much … what was all this she was looking at? Belonging? Family? Love?
She'd always known she was different somehow, but standing here in front of these faces made the truth so obvious it was laughable.
Audie was alone. She always had been.
The tears came in earnest, and she bent her face to the panty hose and let her shoulders shake.
She caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Quinn at the bottom of the stairs, watching her, his face pulled tight with concern.
She shook her head and started down the steps, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I'm sorry for crying."
He pulled out a crisp white handkerchief from his pants pocket and waited for her to reach him. With great gentleness, he dabbed at her tears and then handed her the folded cloth. Quinn placed a hand at the small of her back and bent his lips to her ear.
"I know we're not the prettiest bunch on earth," he whispered musically, "but I believe you're the first that's been driven to tears at the sight of us."
She laughed a bit and leaned against him, feeling his arm come around her. Quinn had removed his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves, and his bare forearm rested warm against her exposed skin.
"Let's eat, OK, Homey?"
She nodded, still wiping at the tears, as he led her into the kitchen.
It was perhaps the most delicious omelet she'd ever eaten—light but rich with cream cheese, onions, green peppers, and mushrooms. He'd made rye toast, too, and orange juice. The meal raised her blood sugar, and her mood, dramatically.
When they were done, Quinn sat back and watched Audie pad around his kitchen in her bare feet, happily scrubbing pans and wiping the countertops, chattering all the while. Apparently, she
did
know how to clean a kitchen when the need arose, and the fact lightened his heart.
He enjoyed seeing her turn and spin and pivot on those smooth, uncovered legs. He smiled appreciatively when she bent over to fill the dishwasher. When she stood up, he could see the slight swell of her belly against the snug dress, and he wanted to run his hands across her there. He noticed the bone and muscle move in her ankles and soft-looking feet, and he wanted to put his hands on her there, too.
She turned to him suddenly, holding a small box in her hand. Her dark eyes were huge. "Quinn?"
He winced, then shrugged in defeat. "I'm busted."
Audie let out a delighted laugh as she flipped through the categories. "'Auto,' 'Home Maintenance,' 'Household Organization,' 'Laundry,' 'Stains,' 'Thrifty Tips'
…
?"
Her mouth fell open.
Quinn rose from his seat at the kitchen table and sauntered toward her. He gently took the box from her hands, closed the lid, and placed it back on the countertop. In doing so, he'd managed to reach across her body and pin her to the cabinets.
"It was my mother's." He pulled back just a bit, his eyes moving from her gaze to her fabulously full lips. "She was your biggest fan."
"You mean my mother's biggest fan, don't you?" Audie struggled to raise her wineglass in the narrow space between them and took a sip.
"I've always liked the column, too."
Audie grinned, then politely pushed past him into the middle of the room. She looked around his house again—charming, organized, clean, and comfortable. Her eyes fell to the gleaming floors.
"Damp mopped with two tea bags per quart of water, Quinn?"
He nodded.
"Wow."
"Yeah, my brothers think I'm a freak."
"Well, you are!" She laughed at him, suddenly spinning around to examine the spice rack over the stove. "Aha! Alphabetized! I knew it!"
He shrugged.
"The CDs, too?"
"Yes."
"Could I please look in your freezer?"
"Be my guest."
So what if she was giggling at the sight of his labeled and dated Tupperware containers and freezer bags? He got to stare at her sweet, round butt as she did so.
"Oh, my God!" Audie slammed the freezer door and spun around with her arms flung wide, the laughter pouring out of her. "You're me! I mean, the me I'm supposed to be! Hey, you wanna take over the column?"
"Nope." Quinn grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and gestured to the back door. "How about we sit on the deck?"
He put his palm against the small of her back and guided her to the door. She twirled away from him.
"You're always doing that, pushing me somewhere, steering me. Why do you do that?"
He dropped his hand and his eyes flashed at her. "I was being polite and escorting you to the goddamn deck."
She snorted and reached for the door before he could. "After you, Detective," Audie said. As he walked past, she placed her hand on the curve of his back and it was warm and hard—and Audie decided right then that she probably shouldn't have any more wine.
They made themselves comfortable in cushioned patio chairs at an oval cedar table. Audie looked out over a narrow manicured yard glowing under tastefully placed outdoor lights. The weed-free grass was cut short and looked like green velvet, and the entire space was set off with boxwoods and mulch along the fence line.
She sighed in appreciation.
"This is a very cute house, Quinn. How long have you lived here?"
"About five years now."
"Have you ever been married?"
"Nope. Unless you count Stanny-O."
Audie giggled and poured herself some more wine. One more glass wouldn't make her lose her head over Stacey Quinn, certainly. "Have you ever lived with anyone?"
"I'm living with someone now," he said casually. "Why do you ask?"
Audie put down the wine bottle rather forcefully and blinked at him. "Is she at Ace Hardware stocking up on mulch while you entertain me tonight?"
Quinn shook his head and sniggered. "Nope. Rocky Datillio is at his fiancée's tonight. He'll be moving out for good when he gets married in a few weeks."
"Oh."
"Can I ask you something, Audie?"
"Mmm…
"
She was taking a nice long draw from her wineglass.
"Why were you crying upstairs?"
She put down her drink and began to remove the bobby pins from her hair, then tossed them in a pile on the table. She raked her fingers through her waves and massaged her scalp, waiting for her emotions to subside.
"I get a little sentimental when I'm hungry and my feet hurt," she finally said.
"I give a mean foot massage." Quinn took a sip of his wine and looked out into the yard, listening to the neighborhood night noises of cars, barking dogs, garbage can lids, and voices. He waited a long while before he felt her feet plunk down in his lap.
Quinn touched her ankles with reverence before he pushed her feet aside. "Wait. Come here to me."
He pulled Audie by the hands and guided her to the edge of the table, where she hopped up, letting her feet dangle. Quinn positioned his chair in front of her and sat down.
"There. That's better." He placed her feet squarely in his lap.
Audie giggled until she grew accustomed to his touch, then let her eyelids drift down in heavy pleasure. In silence, Quinn rolled his fingers into the ball of one foot and pressed his thumb along her arch. Then he stroked the top of the foot, paying lavish attention to each toe—pulling, bending up, and pushing down—until little electric shocks of pleasure raced up from the thin bones of her feet.
Then he started the cycle of touch all over again, and soon Audie's breathing fell in sync with his movements and she felt her muscles uncoil from her soles to her shoulders.
When he went to the other foot, she giggled again but was soon returned to bliss with his rhythmic touch.
"This is wonderful, Quinn."
"Yes, it is."
Audie realized her eyes had been closed all this time, and she opened them to admire his efforts.
"Oh!" The little exclamation came out involuntarily. It seemed Quinn's lion-at-breakfast look was back, but this time she'd served herself to him on a plate. He held her gaze as his touch suddenly changed.
Audie felt the hot, firm pressure move to her ankles now, then to her calves. He stopped there and raked his knuckles hard down her muscle.