The Mighty Quinns: Rourke (11 page)

“And what brought that memory back?” Rourke asked.

“I felt the same way today. I was happy, but scared at the same time. I felt sick to my stomach and giddy. People believe I’m an artist and—”

“You
are
an artist,” Rourke insisted.

“And I felt afraid because things are changing so quickly. I’m not sure who I am anymore.”

“That’s the way life is, Annie. Your life has been on hold for a while. But now it’s moving forward. You don’t need to be afraid. I’m here. I’ll help you.”

“I should be able to do this myself,” Annie replied. Would she ever trust anyone enough to accept help, even as something as simple as moral support?

“Yes, you should,” he said. “But I feel somewhat responsible since I started you down this road.”

She stopped on the sidewalk and turned to him. “Do you really think you’re going to stay on Cape Breton?”

Rourke reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm. He leaned close, brushing a kiss across her soft lips. “More and more, I think this might be the life for me.”

“And you’ll just walk away from your life in New York? And you won’t miss it?”

“There are things I’ll miss,” he said. “Things I can’t get here.”

“Like what,” Annie asked.

“A giant slice of pizza. A decent hot dog. Onion bagels and the
Sunday Times
. A bookstore with every kind of book I could possibly want. Movie houses that show obscure foreign films. And a few other things.”

“If you’ll miss that much, why would you want to move?”

“Because there is one thing on Cape Breton that I can’t possibly find in New York.”

“Your uncle’s cottage?”

Rourke chuckled. “I was going to say you. You’re here.”

“Me?”

He grabbed her hand and started down the street again. “I thought we’d decided that I was your boyfriend. I know I’m your lover. And I’m thinking, I might want to be more.”

“No,” Annie said, shaking her head. “I—I didn’t mean I thought you were my boyfriend. I just was afraid people would ask questions and I wouldn’t know how to answer them.”

Rourke frowned. Had he misunderstood? “I thought you were talking about your feelings for me.”

“No. We had an agreement. This was just about sex. I can’t— I mean, I’m not interested in anything else. I thought you understood that.”

He didn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way she wasn’t feeling the same deep, deep connection that he felt. They were more than just intimate strangers. But when he tried to force her to admit it, she put up the same old walls. He knew that pushing her into saying something she wasn’t ready to give voice to would only make Annie push back even harder.

“Of course,” he said. “You’re right. We should keep this simple. Sex. Nothing more. I think some people would call it ‘friends with benefits.’ Are we at least friends?”

“Yes, we’re friends.”

Rourke bit back a curse. Would it always be this way with Annie? One step forward and two steps back. Or three—or four? She was the most confounding woman he’d ever met. He knew she felt something deeper than just a physical attraction. He’d be willing to bet his life on it. But there was something still holding her back. It wasn’t trust, because he was sure that she trusted him. Though his patience could be stretched thin, sooner or later he’d figure her out. And then maybe they’d be able to talk about a future together.

* * *

A
NNIE
STARED
AT
the ceiling above the bed. The room was dark, with low light provided by the dying embers of a fire that Rourke had built when they got home.

The day had been exhausting but in a good way. Though it had all been too much to take in in such a short time, now that she had a chance to reflect, the positives far outweighed the negatives. She’d always considered her art something she’d done to please herself. But there had been people who were truly pleased to buy something she’d created.

They’d take her work and hang it in their homes or their offices. Or maybe they’d give it to someone as a gift. Whatever happened, their purchase was a tremendous compliment. But focusing on the positive only went so far. There was the other concern that had been keeping sleep at bay.

He was falling in love with her. Annie could see it in his eyes, in his smile. The way he’d touched her when they made love earlier had been different than before. And it wasn’t just him, Annie thought. She was different, too.

In the beginning, it was all about physical pleasure, and they’d been good at providing that to each other. But now there was emotion behind what they did in bed.

Need was no longer the only thing that drove her into his arms. She felt safe and comfortable, valued, understood. Annie had never been able to trust, not completely. But with Rourke, she did.

And yet, one fear kept creeping in to spoil her happiness. She’d never worried about it before with men, but then none of those men had any intention of becoming a permanent part of her life.

She’d tried to convince herself that the fear was irrational, but then, irrationality would be one of the symptoms. Her mother had it and Annie was afraid that someday, she’d suffer the same affliction.

She’d heard the whispers in town, she’d read books and magazines about the illness, and she knew what they all thought—that Annie had inherited the disease from her mother. It was possible, she knew. Bipolar disorder could be passed along from generation to generation.

She’d seen what her mother’s illness had done to her father and how it had affected her as a child. Annie didn’t want that to happen to the family she might have. As much as she wanted a future with Rourke, would happiness elude them, as well?

She cursed to herself. Was this the way she wanted to live her life, just waiting for the other shoe to drop? What if she let Rourke wander out of her life and then twenty or thirty years later realized that there was no reason—that she’d lost her one and only chance at love simply because she was afraid?

Did her mother know it was happening to her, did she realize she was drifting out of control? Had she wanted to be “normal”? Or was she content with her life as it was? Annie had always believed that she was unaware. She wouldn’t have willingly walked into the ocean and left her husband and daughter behind.

But if her mother had been unaware of the depth of her troubles, maybe Annie would be, too, if and when they came along. She gently pulled the covers back and slipped out of bed. The sun would be up in an hour. Grabbing the afghan from the back of her chair, she wrapped it around her naked body and walked to the kitchen door.

The sky to the east had already turned from inky black to deep blue and the stars had begun to fade. The moment she touched the doorknob, Kit leaped up from his spot near the fireplace and trotted to the door. They both slipped outside, into the cool of early morning.

Annie wandered down the path to the shore, Kit running out ahead of her, sniffing the air. He suddenly veered off the path and headed toward the lighthouse. The beam swept across the water and she stared up and watched as clouds raced through the predawn sky. Another storm was in the air. They’d have rain soon and then it would turn cold again. Unlike the rest of the islanders, she didn’t need to listen to the weather forecast to know what was coming. She could feel it and smell it.

Annie walked out to the rocks and found a spot, perching on the flat surface of her favorite boulder. The sun had warmed the rock during the day and it still radiated heat, providing a sort of protection from the breeze off the water.

Kit leaped up beside her and she pulled him across her lap and nuzzled her face into the dog’s fur. “Everything’s changing,” she whispered. “What do you think I should do?”

The dog wriggled in her lap and tried to lick her cheek. Annie laughed softly. “I remember when you were the only boy who kissed me. Now I’ve got a real boyfriend and I think he loves me.” She rubbed the dog’s belly. “Do you believe that?”

So if that was true, then what came next? Annie wondered. Would he admit his feelings out loud and would she then have to reciprocate? She let the words run through her mind before they formed on her lips. “I love you,” she said, the sound disappearing in the breeze. “I love you.”

She’d never said it to a single human being. She couldn’t recall saying it as a child to her parents, and her grandmother had never been one to express her feelings. And the men in her life had never needed or wanted to hear the words.

“I love you,” Annie said.

Maybe she was crazy, she thought. It was the only way to describe her behavior. She’d known Rourke for just over a week. Eight days. No one fell in love that fast, especially someone like her.

Annie sat on the rock until the dawn was just beginning to break on the eastern horizon. She was cold and confused, unsure of what would come next. They’d tried to be honest with each other, even when it wasn’t easy. But Annie wasn’t sure she could tell Rourke about this particular insecurity.

If she were a more selfish person, she might just forget the worry altogether and take her chances. But she did trust Rourke and if he truly loved her, like her father loved her mother, then what she feared about herself shouldn’t make a difference.

When she reached the cottage, she silently slipped back inside, shushing Kit, who was anxious for his breakfast. Dropping the afghan on the floor beside the bed, she crawled back beneath the covers. Rourke stirred and then reached out and pulled her body into his.

“Why are you so cold?” he murmured, pressing his face into the curve of her neck.

“I was out watching the sun come up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me? I would have gone out with you.”

“I wanted to be alone. I needed to think about some things.”

“Am I included in those things?” he asked.

Annie shook her head. “No,” she lied. She’d tell him the truth later, when she was ready to admit her fears. He deserved to know. Right now, she wanted to enjoy his warmth and maybe fall asleep for a bit.

“We don’t have to go back to the art fair today,” Rourke said. “You’ve sold almost all your work. Returning is hardly worth it. I’m thinking we should just spend the day at home.”

“There’s a small apple grove on my property,” Annie said. “I usually go pick apples and then make applesauce. I could probably do twice as much if I had another pair of hands.”

“I could help,” he said. “As long as we get to spend the morning in bed, you have me at your beck and call for the rest of the day.”

Annie yawned, her tired eyes watering. “I just need to sleep now,” she murmured.

It was odd how everything seemed to be perfect as long as they stayed in bed. Without the outside world, there were no disagreements or disappointments. They could just focus on each other and not on the rest of the world. Annie was perfectly happy with Rourke, all alone.

But Rourke preferred to live in the real world, not in some sexual fantasyland inside her cottage. And if she wanted him in her world, she’d have to learn to live in his. But was his world here, on this island, or was it back in New York?

8

I
T
HAD
BEEN
a week since the art fair and Rourke hadn’t made any moves to leave the island. In truth, he’d all but decided to stay. He had numerous messages on his cell phone, but he’d been ignoring them. And the phone had been buzzing all morning, but he hadn’t picked up. There were two calls from the estate lawyer, Maria, three calls from his mother and another from one of his father’s business partners.

Rourke was tempted to find out just what Ed Kopitski wanted, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold his tongue. Even after all this time, his departure still stung. He’d invested almost eight years of his life with that firm, trying to replace his father and preserve his legacy.

But the partners, both old friends of his father, had insisted that they knew better how to run the firm and customers had gradually begun to fall away. By the time he’d gone, they’d barely been able to make payroll.

Did he really want to open that door again? He’d put that part of his life behind him and moved on to something new. And yet, the pull of his old life was still strong. Maybe Ed was willing to admit that he’d been right all along. That would be worth hearing, just for the sheer satisfaction of it.

“Are you ready to go?” Annie asked, stepping out onto the porch.

Rourke shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He and Annie had planned a drive over to his uncle Buddy’s place. The folks who’d rented it for the festival had left the day before and he’d wanted to clean up before any prospective buyers came through.

The prospect of selling Buddy’s place seemed more and more remote. Even if he got a great offer tomorrow, Rourke was sure he’d turn it down. Why not just take the place off the market? He’d need a place to stay if Annie didn’t want him to move into the light keeper’s cottage permanently.

“Thanks for helping out,” Rourke said as they walked to his SUV.

Annie laughed. “Are you kidding? With everything you’ve done for me, I could at least scrub a few sinks and sweep a few floors.”

“You do know that you’ll be forced to use electrical appliances. A vacuum cleaner? A clothes dryer? Are you prepared for that?”

She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Very funny. I’m sure I can manage.”

They spent the drive over to Buddy’s place chatting about the new art project she had started the night before. She’d decided to take up the bird-watchers on their offer and planned to show them twelve different illustrations to choose from. Rourke could see the excitement in her eyes as she explained how they could make two different sets of note cards and sell twice as many.

He couldn’t help but take pride in her accomplishments. It was an odd feeling to be so invested in someone else’s life, but there it was.

After passing through Pearson Bay, she fell silent. Rourke wasn’t sure what was going through her head, but she had something she wanted to discuss. He could see it in her expression. Were they going to go over all that relationship stuff again? Was he her boyfriend or her lover? Right now, Rourke really didn’t care what he was called. He was just happy to be with her.

“Here, look at this,” Annie finally said.

He glanced over to find her holding a business card. “What’s that?”

“Look at it.”

“Franklin Phillips. Gray Goose Graphics and Printing. Halifax.”

“He talked to me at the art fair. He wants to publish my note cards, too. And maybe some of my other work. He would pay me for my art.”

“Of course he would pay you,” Rourke said. “Annie, this is wonderful. This would be a regular income, something you could depend upon.”

“I know.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing. I was just so shocked and a little confused.”

“And why did it take you so long to tell me about it?”

“Because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about it. And now I am. I want to do it. But I need your help.”

“Sure,” Rourke said. “Anything.”

“He wants me to send samples of my work to him by email. And I’m not really sure how to do that since I don’t own a computer. Do you know how to do that?”

“Well, first we’d have to take scans or digital photos of your work, then download them onto my laptop and then—”

“See. I don’t really understand any of that. I’m not sure I want to. It sounds very complicated.”

“It really isn’t. It’s actually quite easy and—”

“Just tell me the first part. One step at a time.”

“All right. First you need to select some of your pieces that you think are representative of your best work.”

“I sold all my best work.”

“Then you need to go back and do more. Some of your paintings belong to people in town. We could ask to take photos of them. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. And you really only need one sample of each type of thing you’ve done.”

“I’m not sure I can produce good work on demand.”

“You’ll do your best and see what happens.”

He pulled into the driveway of the cottage, then steered the SUV up the small rise to the house. Annie stared out the window. Buddy’s cottage looked much different than it had when she’d last seen it.

“Wow,” she murmured. “It’s like a bright new penny, all shiny and nice.” She turned to him. “I like the color.”

Rourke grinned. “Good. Come on, I’ll show you around the place. You can see a sample of my work.”

As he gave Annie the ten-cent tour, Rourke realized how much he’d enjoyed bringing the house back from ruin. It was now a comfortable and modern home, yet still retained all the charm of the past. As they walked into each room, Annie flipped on the lights, as if amazed at the convenience of having electricity at her command.

She found the gas fireplace particularly fascinating. “It looks like real wood,” she said. “But it doesn’t smell like it.”

“I know. I could always change to a wood-burner if I wanted to. I really like the hearth at your place.”

Rourke’s phone rang and he glanced at the screen. It was his mother. She’d called three times in the past week and he hadn’t called her back. “Why don’t you look around upstairs. I just have to take this. It’s my mother.”

“Sure,” she said. “I’m going to go check out the bedrooms.”

He watched as she walked up the stairs, and then quickly dialed his mother. As usual, she answered on the seventh ring.

“Hello, Mom.”

“Rourke! I was beginning to think you’d fallen off the planet. I thought you were headed home. Where are you?”

“I’m still on Cape Breton,” Rourke replied. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, of course it is. Why are you calling?”

“You called me, Mom. Three times.”

“Oh, that’s right. Well, I’m glad you called back. I just wanted to tell you to get in touch with Ed Kopitski. He’s been calling here, asking if I’d pass along a message, and I just told him to call you directly.”

“What message?” Rourke asked.

“They want you back at the firm. It seems they’ve run things into the ground and feel that only the son of the founder could get the company back on track. And of course, they’re interested in your money.”

“What money?”

“The inheritance from your great-aunt Aileen. I understand it could be almost a million dollars.”

“A—a million?” Though Rourke had talked to the lawyer about the inheritance, she’d never brought up an amount and he hadn’t bothered to ask. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. The investigator tracked me down and I gave him your number. But he said Aileen Quinn was prepared to leave you a million dollars. He said there were some conditions, but for a million dollars, I’d—”

“Stop saying a million dollars,” Rourke snapped. “So, I’d assume that you told Ed about the money.”

“Yes. It did come up in conversation. If you want my advice, let them go down in flames. They never appreciated what your father did for that business and they never appreciated you. Spend your money on something that makes you happy.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“When are you coming home?”

“Soon. I think I’m going to have to come back to take care of this inheritance thing. I’ll call you before I leave.”

“Rourke? I’m really happy for you. I know you’ve been at loose ends since you quit. But now you have choices.”

He hung up the phone, then immediately dialed Maria’s number. When she picked up the phone, he couldn’t help himself. “A million dollars? Why didn’t you tell me we were talking about a million dollars?”

“Mr. Quinn?”

“Rourke,” he said.

“Rourke. We usually don’t like to discuss these things over the phone. Sometimes heirs spend the money as soon as they hear the amount, and before they learn the conditions.”

“Which are?”

“I think it would be best if we talk in person,” Maria said. “Can you stop by the office?”

“I’m not in New York. But I can be. Give me a couple days. I’ll call you when I get into town.” He drew a deep breath. “This woman is really giving me a million dollars?”

“She seems to be,” Maria said. “She’s searching out all the descendants of her brothers. You’re not the only one who is benefiting from her generosity.”

“Where did she get all this money?”

“She’s Aileen Quinn. The Irish novelist?”

“Right,” Rourke said. He didn’t recognize the name, but he was going to look her up at the first available opportunity.

Rourke hung up the phone and then dropped it in his jacket pocket. He sat down on the sofa and thought about what had just transpired. He was about to be handed an incredible gift. For a guy who had been unemployed just yesterday, he now had prospects. He could do a lot with a million dollars. He could start his own business. He could travel the world for a few years. He could build a beautiful house here on the island.

He could afford to wait for Annie to fall in love with him. Though he’d thought about staying in Buddy’s place, Rourke knew that he couldn’t keep the house for long, not without a job. And finding any job on Cape Breton was going to be tricky. But now, he didn’t need a job. With a million dollars, he’d consider himself independently wealthy.

He slowly stood. There were so many things to think about. Until he’d made some decisions, he wouldn’t tell Annie about his windfall. She scraped by on three hundred dollars a month. How would she react when she found out he might become a millionaire?

Rourke climbed the stairs, expecting to find her in one of the bedrooms. But as he stepped into the hall, he heard running water in the bathroom. Curious, he pushed open the door only to find her naked, immersed in a tub full of hot water and bubbles.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Taking a bubble bath,” she said. “Your guests left a bottle of shampoo. It makes nice bubbles. And they smell good.”

His gaze drifted down the length of her body and he fought the urge to reach out and brush the bubbles away from her breasts. Rourke shrugged out of his jacket. When he’d put in the oversize whirlpool tub, he’d though it would increase the value of the house. He never thought he’d be using it for seduction.

“You know, that tub is made for two.” He tugged his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons. His T-shirt followed, tossed to the floor onto a growing pile of clothes.

“Slow down,” Annie teased. “I want to watch.”

A naughty grin curled her lips as he finished his task. And when he was completely naked, she demanded that he turn around, offering her a view of the other side.

“All right,” she said. “I guess you’ll do.”

Rourke turned to face her. “I’ll do?” He stepped into the tub and sank into the warm water. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” He slipped his hand between her legs and found the spot that always drove her wild with passion.

“And after I’m done showing you the tub,” he murmured, his mouth hovering over hers, “I think we ought to see the shower.”

* * *

“W
HAT
DO
YOU
mean you’re leaving?” Annie demanded. “When? Where are you going? Why?”

“I have to go to New York to settle some business. I’m not going to be gone long. No more than a week.”

The news hit Annie like a sack of bricks. Though she’d always known there was a chance he’d leave, things had been moving toward Rourke’s taking up residence on the island. He’d even taken Buddy’s house off the market.

“You could come with me,” Rourke said.

Annie shook her head. There was that strange feeling again—giddiness mixed with sheer terror. “No. That’s not possible. I have a lot of work to do. I have to get things ready to send to Mr. Phillips. And—and there’s Kit. Who would take care of him?”

“You can bring your work with you and we’ll take Kit along, too.”

“He’s never ridden in a car. What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Let’s take him for a ride and see. Get your jacket.” Rourke whistled to the dog, who was sleeping next to the bed. The border collie’s ears perked up. “Come on, boy, you want to go for a ride?”

The words seemed familiar to the dog, who leaped to his feet and ran to the door, his tail wagging. Annie watched the two of them. Kit’s loyalty had always been to her, but now he seemed just as anxious to please Rourke. “Maybe he would like the car. But where would we stay? Would there be a place for him to run? Is there grass in New York City?”

“We have a really big plot of grass. It’s called Central Park.”

Annie sighed. “I know about Central Park,” she muttered. “How far do you live from the park?”

“Just a few blocks.”

“So if he wants to go out at night, we have to put a leash on him and walk him two blocks to the park? That doesn’t seem very practical.”

“Is this really about Kit? Or is this about you?” Rourke asked.

His question stung and she knew she was being childish. If she really wanted a relationship with Rourke, she’d have to learn to conquer her insecurities. They couldn’t stay on the island forever. There would be vacations and trips to see his family. She’d never been out of Nova Scotia, never been on a plane. She didn’t have a passport and was intimidated by the prospect of navigating a strange city or foreign country.