The Mighty Quinns: Ronan (28 page)

“I—I knew the minute I met her,” Paddy said.

“Come on.” Marcus shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“She walked in the room and I gave my mate a nudge and said, ‘There’s the girl I’m to marry.’ And that’s what came to pass.”

“But how did you know? You must have had some doubts. Weren’t you afraid you were just caught up in the moment?”

“No,” Paddy replied. “I felt it in my gut.” He patted his stomach. “Whenever she wasn’t around, I had this ache, like I’d eaten too many turnips.”

“Did you tell her?” Marcus asked.

“I may have been in love, boyo, but I wasn’t a bleedin’ eedjit. Of course I didn’t tell her. Not straight off, anyway. I would have sent her runnin’ for the hills. She had no interest in me. At least that’s what I thought. I come to learn later that wasn’t the case. She
shouldn’t have loved me, but she did.”

“Why shouldn’t she have loved you?” Marcus asked.

“Her ma, your Nana Callahan, didn’t approve. She’d just learned that your mother had inherited that big house in Ireland and a fair bit of money, as well. She was determined to take your mother back there and marry her off to some rich Irishman, not a scrappy fisherman.”

“How did you get her to stay?”

“One night I screwed up my courage and I told her how I felt. I knew she might laugh at me, but I had one chance to convince her, so I tried. And she didn’t laugh.” He grinned. “She cried. Buckets of tears. Scared the shite out of me. She turned over that house and all the money to your grandmother and stayed with me. Even though it caused a terrible row between them, she chose me. Later on, when we could have used that money to pay for her hospital bills, she was too proud to ask. She’d made her choice and she wasn’t about to admit that she might have made a mistake.”

“But she didn’t make a mistake,” Marcus said.

Paddy shook his head. “I don’t believe so. And neither does your ma.”

“You’ve never me told that story before.”

“You’ve never asked.” He took the crowbar from Marcus’s hands and began to pry open another crate. “What’s the use of offerin’ advice if you’re not ready to hear it? Maybe you’re ready now?”

“I guess I am,” Marcus admitted.

“Then what the hell are you doing opening crates with yer da? Why don’t you go tell this girl how you feel? Seize the moment, boyo. It won’t get any easier as time passes.”

“But I don’t know how I feel about her,” Marcus said.

“Sure you do.” His father patted him on the shoulder. “You’re just afraid to admit it. Don’t try to fool yourself. You might lose the best thing to come along.”

Marcus yanked off his gloves and shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans. “You’ll be all right with the rest of these?” he asked.

Paddy nodded. “I can manage.”

As he walked toward the boathouse, Marcus thought about what he might say. But no matter how he tried to parse it, the words just wouldn’t come. Maybe he didn’t love her. Maybe this was all about desire and lust and physical release. There were no words for that and he was just imagining himself in love.

How the hell was he supposed to know, short of—Marcus stopped in his tracks, groaning softly. The only way to gauge his true feelings for Eden would have been to avoid sex.

Wasn’t that just crap? he mused. Had he simply abided by the deal he’d made with his brothers, maybe he’d have been able to figure out how he truly felt. But now he was forced to look at everything through a haze of desire.

Marcus strode toward the boathouse, and when he reached the stairs he took them two at a time. He walked inside the loft and found Eden staring at a box of brownie mix, intently reading the directions.

“I’m making brownies,” she murmured, ignoring his entrance.

Baking, Marcus mused. Another step on her journey through real life. No matter how badly she failed, Eden seemed to meet each new challenge with optimism. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“It shouldn’t be.” She looked up at him and smiled. Once again Marcus was struck by how pretty she was. Her face was scrubbed clean and her mussed hair fell in careless waves. Even from across the room Marcus knew how she’d smell, all fresh and fruity.

He walked over to her and slipped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. He’d become so accustomed to her presence in his apartment that he was almost taking it for granted. But Marcus knew better. He reminded himself that she could be gone in the blink of an eye. He’d do well to enjoy himself while she was here.

“I did it,” she murmured as though making a confession.

Marcus kissed her neck, wondering what household disaster she might have perpetrated this time. “Will it cost a lot to fix?” he asked.

Eden turned around in his arms. “I wrote to my father. Just like you asked.” She reached across the counter and snatched up a sheet of paper and waved it in front of him. “I e-mailed it to his office. Now maybe you’ll quit bugging me?”

Marcus felt his breath freeze in his throat. He’d been pushing her toward this, but he’d never fully considered the consequences if she fulfilled his request. Eden was getting past her mistakes and making amends. Soon she wouldn’t need his protection. She’d go back to the world she knew and forget all about him. “Good,” he said. “I’m sure you’re going to ease his worries.”

“I said I was sorry for the embarrassment I’ve caused him, but I’ve put my problems in the past and I’m getting on with my life.” She smiled wistfully. “And I actually meant it.”

“I would hope so,” Marcus said.

“No, it’s true. Usually when I speak to my father I’m always promising him whatever he wants to hear, just so he won’t get upset. But this time I really do believe I’m going to change. And I called my mother,” she added almost as an afterthought.

“How did that go?”

“She wants me to come home. She’s getting a divorce from her fourth husband and she needs someone to be there to tell her how young and beautiful she looks.”

“Are you going to go?”

Eden nodded. “I really should. Now that I’ve settled things with my father, I should try to make things better with her. After seeing you with your mother, I realized that my relationships with my parents are really messed up. And part of that is my fault.”

Marcus nodded, knowing that it would be foolish to disagree. He couldn’t keep her here forever, like some pretty bird in a cage. They both had to face reality. “When are you leaving?”

She shrugged. “Friday afternoon.” Eden wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you going to be sad to see me go?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve got six or seven women who’ve been dying to crawl into my bed. I’ll just ring one of them up and they’ll be over in a flash.”

She opened her mouth in mock surprise, then slapped his chest. “And not one of them could make you feel the way I make you feel.”

“I’m not sure of that,” Marcus said, spanning her waist with his hands. Before she could protest, he captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. She sank into him, her hips pressed against his. His passion surged and suddenly he needed to have her, right then and there.

The clock was ticking, and every minute that passed was one less that they’d spend together. He didn’t want to bother with seduction or foreplay. His brain screamed with the need to bury himself deep inside of her and forget all the confusion she’d caused him.

Reaching down, Marcus grabbed the hem of her
T-shirt and yanked it over her head, breaking the kiss for just a heartbeat before resuming his assault on her mouth. His hand smoothed over her body as he tried to memorize every detail, the sweet hollow at the base of her spine, the gentle curve of her neck and the soft swell of her breasts.

Frantic to possess her, Marcus ripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside, then unbuttoned his jeans. With a wicked laugh, Eden reached down to touch him, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“Don’t,” he warned.

She seemed stunned by the ferocity in his voice but then nodded her assent. He skimmed the skirt over her hips, and a moment later she was completely naked. No matter how much he touched her, he couldn’t seem to get close enough. There was only one way.

Grabbing her waist, he wrapped her legs around his hips and carried her over to the old oak table. Marcus set her down on the edge, then gently pushed her back. His hands slid beneath her thighs, drawing them up, and he stood between her legs and stared down at her body.

There would be a last time for this, for them. The thought banged inside his brain like an alarm bell. How was he supposed to live without this? He unzipped his jeans and tugged his boxers down. His erection brushed against her belly.

He didn’t want to bother with a condom and he didn’t care about the consequences. Every other barrier had fallen between them and he wanted to rid himself of this one, as well. Marcus needed to feel every inch of her surrounding him, but he knew it wasn’t his choice. With a soft groan, he bent over to kiss her. “I have to go get—”

“No,” she murmured. Eden reached down and guided him to her damp entrance. “It’s all right. I want it this way.”

He held his breath, then pressed against her. She was hot and tight, and the sensation of entering her was nearly enough to push him over the edge. Eden arched back on the table, moaning softly as he began to move. Marcus let his gaze drop and he watched himself disappear inside her again and again. The sight added to the pleasure, like an erotic movie winding out before him. He rubbed his thumb against her clitoris, and Eden cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the oak table, her eyes closed.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to be buried inside her and let his orgasm consume him. The tension began to build, a wonderful discomfort that promised an explosive release. He gave himself over to the feelings, and when Eden tightened around him, Marcus knew it was time.

Her spasms closed in on him and he drove into her once more, burying himself to the hilt. And then it was there, washing over him like a warm rain, soothing nerves that were on fire. It seemed to last forever, surge after surge of pleasure.

His knees went weak and he braced his hands on the table, leaning against it as he caught his breath. It had happened so quickly, yet the satisfaction was just as intense.

Eden stretched her arms above her head and groaned lazily, a contented smile on her face. When she opened her eyes, they were still glazed, as if she hadn’t quite returned to reality. Marcus didn’t move, anxious to stay connected as long as he could.

She smiled at him and pushed up on her elbows. “What was that about?” she murmured.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In truth, he wasn’t sure how to explain himself—he had merely followed his instincts. “You’re so beautiful. Sometimes I just have to have you.”

Eden reached out, and he wove his fingers through hers, drawing her up into his embrace. “How am I ever going to do without this?” she asked, her lips pressed against his chest.

“Don’t leave.” The instant he said the words Marcus wanted to take them back. But they were easier to say than the other words rattling around in his head.
I love you.
That’s what he’d wanted to say because that’s what he felt. For the first time in his life he was sure, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

“I thought you wanted me to go. You kept—”

“I know what I said, Eden.”

“And now you don’t want me to—”

“No,” he said. “You’re right. You need to go. This is starting to get a little too comfortable for me.”

“And that’s not a good thing?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s definitely not a good thing.”

She nuzzled his chest, her breath warm against his skin. “This was supposed to be fun. If we get all serious, it will just be ruined.”

Marcus ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face. Though he’d like to believe in love at first sight, he knew that the chances of making that kind of relationship last—hell, any kind of relationship—were fifty-fifty at best. And though it would be difficult to say goodbye to Eden, it would be far more difficult to let himself love her only to lose her later.

This was for the best, her leaving. He’d just have to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

* * *

E
DEN
DIPPED
THE
BRUSH
into the bottle of pink nail polish and carefully painted her big toe. She glanced up at Marcus, who was comfortably stretched out on the other end of the sofa, a sketch pad resting in his lap.

He had one more design to complete for her father’s commission and had been worrying over it all day long. But she sensed his preoccupation was more about her leaving tomorrow than about his work.

They’d made an agreement when they’d first met that they would enjoy each other and then move on—and they certainly had enjoyed each other. Eden had never been one to stay too long at the party. Things were always so ugly when they turned the lights on.

She sighed softly and went back to her pedicure. Over the past few days, they’d settled into an odd type of domestic bliss. Eden imagined that newly married couples spent their evenings in much the same sort of mundane pursuits—watching a game show on television, cooking spaghetti, making love on the kitchen floor.

But the more she’d come to enjoy playing house with Marcus, the more restless she’d become. It was simple to ignore what was going on in the outside world when she was wrapped up in his life. Though they spent fabulous nights, and sometimes entire afternoons, in bed, outside of their sexual attraction, she felt…confused.

Marcus had a life—he did his work, he ran errands, he talked to his family. But Eden was trapped in a strange limbo between two worlds—a past that she was determined to leave behind and a future she couldn’t quite see.

She dipped the brush into the nail polish and started on her other foot. There were things to do, places to go to find work, but she’d hesitated to make a decision. Was Marcus the cause of her procrastination? Was she hoping that he’d suddenly profess his love for her and all her problems would be magically solved?