The Mighty Quinns: Dermot-Dex
Dermot stared at her for a long moment. He’d been completely honest with her. She was the one who didn’t believe him. God, she was the most beautiful, exasperating, exciting woman he’d ever known, and every day that they spent together, she grew more beautiful. He lived for her smile and her laugh and the way her eyes lit up when they spoke.
“Would you like to hear another truth?” he asked.
“First you need to clean the ice cream off the end of your nose.”
“You do that,” he said.
When she leaned into him, he caught her by surprise, kissing her again. “Here’s a truth,” he murmured. “I like you a whole lot, Rachel Howe. And if I’m not careful, I might fall in love with you.”
Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at him, wide-eyed. “I like you, too,” she said.
It felt good to say those words out loud. And he didn’t care if all they shared was the occasional kiss from now until he left. He was satisfied just to sit next to her and talk.
He had eighteen days left to figure this all out. It didn’t seem like a lot of time, but for the two of them, it would have to be enough.
SLEEP WAS IMPOSSIBLE. Rachel stared at the ceiling of her bedroom and groaned softly. The heat made her skin sticky and her hair damp. Even the fan in the window didn’t provide any relief. But she knew it wasn’t the heat. It was Dermot.
Her mind was spinning, a tangle of thoughts she just couldn’t seem to sort out. She’d left him at the door a few hours before, determined not to let a few delicious kisses rock her resolve to put distance between them.
Was it so difficult for him to understand? She was only trying to protect herself from the hurt that would eventually come. Surely he could see that she was growing far too dependent on him.
It would be so easy to fall in love, to believe that he was some white knight come to rescue her from all her problems. With a partner, she could keep the farm, she could have time to do her work as an artist, she could honor the promise she made to her father. Everything would fall into place so neatly.
But was she idealizing what they shared because she needed him to make her life easier? Or was she feeling a connection that was meant to last a lifetime? Rachel had thought she’d found love in the past and she’d been proved wrong. So what made her think this was the real thing—and after only three weeks together?
With a soft curse, she sat up and raked her hands through her tangled hair. This was crazy! No matter what she did, she was going to get hurt. Even now, the thought of falling asleep without him brought a lonely ache to her heart.
He was a wonderful man, kind and compassionate, patient and concerned, so incredibly sexy. Exactly the sort of man she could see herself loving for the rest of her life. But was she in love or just caught up in the possibility of love?
Her stomach growled. Maybe if she made herself a snack she’d be able to sleep. Rachel rolled out of bed and walked downstairs. The kitchen was dark and she pulled open the refrigerator door and let the cool air rush out.
The pitcher of lemonade looked appealing and she set it on the counter, then pulled out a package of string cheese. She found a glass and a plate and added a few crackers, then carried the food out to the porch.
After living in the heart of Chicago, she was always amazed at how silent the world could be. It almost hurt her ears to search for a noise. A dog barked in the distance, the sound traveling in the still air.
“Can’t sleep?”
The sound of his voice startled her. He sat on one of the wicker chairs at the end of the porch. He was wearing just his boxers, his bare feet resting on the porch rail, a bottle of beer in his hand.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry. I came over to get something to drink. It’s so hot I can’t sleep.”
The sky flashed. “Heat lightning. I don’t think it’s going to cool down.”
She held out the plate to him as she sat down, and he took a piece of string cheese. “I have to get some of this to take home with me,” he said.
“You can probably get it in Seattle,” she said. “You just haven’t looked for it.”
He took a bite, then a sip of his beer. “You know what I’d like to do? For the next seventeen days, I’d like to forget that I’m leaving. I’d like to pretend that the bus ticket I have back to Seattle doesn’t exist. I’d like to just live each day without thinking about the next.”
“That might be difficult to do,” Rachel said.
“Why can’t we do what feels right?” he said. “Why do we have to deny ourselves?”
Rachel’s breath caught in her throat and she quickly drew another. Why? Was it really going to change anything? It wouldn’t lessen the loneliness she’d feel after he left, so why bother to protect herself?
He was right. She could deal with the pain when it came. But until then, she’d revel in the passion that this man had brought into her life. “All right,” she said. “But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Dermot said.
“When it comes time to leave, you’ll just go. You’ll walk away and there won’t be any long goodbyes or promises that we’ll see each other again. You’ll just disappear and not come back.”
“Rachel, I—”
“Those are my terms,” she said.
He considered her offer, then nodded. “All right. I can live with that.”
Rachel set the snack down on the small table between the wicker chairs, then slowly stood. She walked to his chair and, straddling his legs, sat down on his lap. “I think I want you to kiss me now.”
Dermot stared up at her, then reached to touch her breast. He cupped her warm flesh, running his thumb over her nipple until it became a stiff peak beneath the thin cotton of her nightgown. He smoothed his hand along her hip, his fingers soft and teasing.
Rachel could feel his hard shaft between them, straining against the front of his boxers. When he was with her, it never took much for Dermot to get aroused. Rachel had never had that power with a man before. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that she could have Dermot whenever she wanted him, that he would be there, ready and willing to fulfill her every need. Dermot moaned softly as she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his heat.
Already, his body was so familiar to her. She knew how he’d react to her touch, the way his breath would catch in his throat, the sound of his voice whispering her name.
“Three days has been too long,” she murmured.
Dermot grabbed her waist and stood, wrapping her legs around his hips. He backed her up against the wall of the house and kissed the curve of her neck and then moved lower, teasing at her breast with his tongue. “Your bed or mine?” he asked as he gently caressed her nipple.
“Let’s stay right here,” she said. “It’s too hot inside.”
He groaned softly, his kiss growing more urgent, and he dragged his tongue along the crease of her mouth until she surrendered completely. Her knees went soft and she felt herself melt in his arms.
“Why did we ever stop doing this?” she murmured.
“I can’t remember. But we won’t make that mistake again, will we?”
“No,” Rachel said.
He slowly trailed kisses over her shoulder and down her arm. Then, he set her back on her feet and knelt in front of her, pushing her nightgown up around her hips. Rachel raked her fingers through his hair, anticipating what he was about to do to her.
He was so beautiful, so incredibly sexy. She couldn’t imagine ever feeling this attracted to a man again. There seemed to be electricity that crackled between them every time they were together. Just one touch of his fingers to her bare skin was all it took for the attraction to overwhelm them both.
“I need you,” he murmured. “I need to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up the same way.”
Rachel understood how he felt. The luxury of spending an entire night together in bed was one they’d grown very fond of. “We have to get up early to do chores,” she said. “Will you promise not to keep me up too late?”
He looked up at her. “Why? Would it be so bad if we spent the whole night making love?”
Dermot’s kisses trailed lower, until he found the damp spot between her legs. She was already aroused, and the moment his tongue touched her there, her body jerked in response.
“I love that I can touch you like this,” he said. “That there’s nothing left to stop us.” He gently parted her legs, tasting her until she writhed against the wall, her knees weak and her body burning.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, right there.”
As he brought her closer and closer to her release, Rachel murmured his name urgently. Dermot followed her cues, dragging her back from the edge when she got too close. It wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to experience this pleasure by herself.
She reached out and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging until he looked up at her. He knew what she wanted without her even needing to tell him, and he stood and drew her leg up along his hip.
“It’s all right,” she said. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Are you sure?”
Rachel nodded. She’d been on the pill for years and it had always seemed like such a practical thing. But now, it was liberating. She trusted Dermot and he trusted her. She wanted to experience him without any barriers between them. Rachel didn’t care what came later as long as this came now.
She gently guided him to her entrance and Dermot closed his eyes the moment they touched. Slowly, exquisitely, he pushed inside of her. Rachel felt the muscles in his body tense, but he didn’t give in. Instead, he slowly began to move.
She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations that washed over her body. She was already so close, but this seemed to take her to a higher level, the need growing more intense with each stroke. This was paradise, she thought. There was nothing more perfect.
“I want you,” he murmured. “Come for me.”
He increased his pace and Rachel felt herself dancing on the edge. And when release came, it came so fast that it caught her by surprise. She cried out and the pleasure shook her body, stealing her ability to think.
It was enough to send him over the edge and Dermot surrendered a moment later. It was simple, uncomplicated and pure, the two of them searching for release and finding it with each other.
He was craving what she could only satisfy for a short time. Though she felt sated now, Rachel knew that she’d want more. He untangled her leg from around his waist and nuzzled into the curve of her neck. “Can we stay here forever?” he asked.
“I think maybe we could,” Rachel joked.
They stood there for a long time, his forehead pressed against hers, his hand braced beside her head. Rachel listened to his breathing. She wondered what he was thinking. But she was afraid to ask. Instead, she pressed a kiss into the center of his chest.
“You know what I could go for? A nice, cool bath.”
He reached down and grabbed her hand. “Lead the way.”
6
“ARE YOU GOING TO tell me where we’re going?” Dermot asked as he slid behind the wheel of the pickup.
“We’re going on a field trip,” Rachel said.
They’d finished the milking for the morning and Rachel had ordered him out of his barn clothes and into something “decent.” At first Dermot had assumed they were going into town for breakfast, but she’d fed him at the kitchen table, perching on a chair and staring at him until he finished.
“I always hated field trips in school. We never went anywhere interesting.”
“What would you consider interesting?”
“The zoo? Maybe a natural history museum? Even a decent library.”
“Then you’re probably not going to like this.” She pointed to the ignition. “Start the truck. We’re heading west.”
Dermot drove the pickup out of the driveway and headed away from Mapleton. “So, what am I going to learn today? It’s not a field trip unless I learn something.”
She sighed in frustration. “You’re going to learn to be patient and enjoy the ride.”
He chuckled softly. “I already know how to do that. I do that every night with you.”
“Funny,” she said. “And this comes because all you think about is sex. This is about business. I have to go sign a new contract with Briar Hollow Cheese. We sell our milk to them. You’ll get a chance to taste some of their cheese.”
“Cool,” he said. “I knew I’d get it out of you.”
“They make chèvre, which is traditional goat cheese. And also feta and bouchon, which is like parmesan cheese. We’ll bring some home and I’ll make something with it tonight. And I want to send some home with you, too. So you have something to remember us by.”
“I don’t need cheese to remember you,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of other things I’ll remember.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Oh, let me see. I’ll remember how your hair smells in the morning when I wake up and you’ve stolen my pillow. And I’ll remember the sound of your laugh when you’re watching the kids scamper around their pen. I’ll remember sitting across from you in the evening and sharing supper together.” He paused. “I’ll even remember this.”
Rachel slid over and sat next to him, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “Good. I’m happy to hear that.”
The drive to the cheese factory was passed with lighthearted chatter. Now that they’d actually decided not to think about the future, it took some of the pressure off them both. Dermot was happy, but he could see that there were moments where Rachel wasn’t so enthusiastic. Something he said or did would put her in a dark mood for a short time and he’d have to tease her out of it. He felt like he was rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.
Briar Hollow was a small operation, set close to the road in a rural area. Dermot pulled into the parking lot and then hopped out and circled around the truck. He opened the door for Rachel and grabbed her around the waist, setting her on the ground.
“You’ll like Ben,” she said. “He’s a real artisan. Every year, he goes to France for a few weeks and studies cheese making with a master. His cheeses are used in a lot of the best restaurants in Chicago.”
A bell above the door rang as they entered. Rachel introduced him to Ben’s daughter, Ellen, who stood behind the counter. “This is my friend Dermot Quinn. He’s been working at the farm, but he’s leaving in a couple weeks. I wanted to send some cheese home to Seattle with him.”
Ellen regarded him with a curious look, then held out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Dermot. You two just take whatever you want from the cases. I’ll get you a box.”
“Ben called me. I’m here to sign another contract,” Rachel added.
Ellen handed her a box. “I’ll tell Ben you’re here.”
They walked around the shop and Rachel fed Dermot little samples from glass-covered dishes. When Ben walked into the shop, she introduced the men and they all sat down together. “Dermot’s learning a little more about the dairy,” Rachel explained.
“Good,” Ben said. “Well, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Something very important.”
“What is it?” Rachel asked, worried at the serious tone in his voice.
“We just took on a new wholesaler. They’re going to give us a national brand so we need more from each of our dairies. Over the next year, we’d like to see you double your production.” Rachel gasped and he held up his hand. “Now, I know your situation. But this would increase your profit margins, which might make it possible for you to hire the help you need.”
Dermot looked at the stricken expression on Rachel’s face. “I—I don’t think I can do it, Ben,” she said. “I’d love to help you out, but there just aren’t enough hours in the day.”
Dermot cleared his throat. “Wait a second. Rachel, we can figure out a—”
Rachel quickly stood. “Can I have some time to think about this?”
“Sure,” Ben said. “Here’s the contract. And you know we’ll buy whatever milk Clover Meadow produces. You’re one of our best dairies. We’ll just be paying more to those dairies that produce more for us. Heck, my daughter, Ellen, and her husband are even thinking about getting into the dairy business. And we’ll be adding to our operation. Another five thousand square feet.”
“Great,” Rachel said.
She quickly walked out to the parking lot, forgetting the box of cheese that they’d collected. When she reached the truck, her face was pale and she was gasping for breath. Dermot bent her over at the waist, lowering her head. “Breathe,” he ordered.
“I—I can’t. I’ve been trying to think of a way to milk fewer goats, not more. I can’t do this. I never wanted to be a goat farmer. Why did my father do this to me?”
When she looked up, her eyes were full of tears. “My life is all laid out for me. I’m never going to get off the farm. I’m going to be milking goats for the rest of my life.”
Dermot dragged her into his arms and held her tight. “I’m sure he never wanted you to be unhappy, sweetheart. You know that. Maybe he just wanted to make sure his animals would live out their lives on your farm.”
She sniffled and looked up at him through watery eyes. “You think?”
“I think,” Dermot reassured her. “If you can find someone to buy the farm who wants to keep the goats, then I think maybe your father would be happy. Remember what Ben said?” he continued. “Ellen and her husband have been looking around for a farm of their own. They want to start a goat dairy. Why don’t you let them know that you might consider selling?”
She thought about his suggestion. “My brothers and sister would certainly be happy. And I know Ellen and Kyle. I’ve met their two children. They’re definitely goat people.” She paused. “We’d have to make arrangements for Eddie. He’s not going to want to leave the farm. He’s lived there his entire life.”
“I’m sure you could work something out,” he said. “Now, we forgot our cheese inside. I think we should go back and talk to Ellen about your farm. You don’t have to decide right now, but you could let her know it might be an option.”
“I really haven’t thought seriously about selling,” she said. “I made a promise to myself that I’d stay at least a year before I made any decisions.”
“And how long have you been running the farm?” he asked.
“Almost a year?”
“There you go.” He tipped her face up and wiped the tears away with his fingertips. “Come on, let’s go back inside and see what she has to say.”
But now that the idea had found a place in her mind, Dermot began to question his reasons for suggesting it. Was he really interested in her happiness or were his motives purely selfish? If she didn’t have the farm, then she was free to move wherever she wanted—to Seattle, perhaps?
He wasn’t going to deny that he’d spent some time imagining what life would be like living in his house instead of hers. As much as he loved the farm and the animals, he was starting to realize how much his grandfather’s business meant to him. Maybe it was in his genes. The Quinn family had been on the water for generations, first as fishermen in Bantry Bay and now as boat builders. Like Rachel, he had family traditions to uphold.
Dermot opened the door for Rachel. When they got back inside, he pressed his hand to the small of her back, hoping to calm her emotions with his touch.
“You’re back!” Ellen said. “You forgot your cheese.”
“I know,” Rachel said. “I wanted to talk to you before I left. Ben mentioned that you and Kyle might be looking for a farm, a place to raise goats.”
Ellen nodded. “We’ve been looking. It’s been difficult. We’ve seen a few places but they haven’t been… perfect. It’s a huge risk and an even bigger investment. My father has agreed to help, but we plan to spend the rest of our lives on the place, so it has to be just right.” She laughed. “Like Clover Meadow.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Because I’ve been thinking about selling.”
Ellen gasped, her eyes opening wide. “Oh, my gosh. Really?”
Rachel nodded. “I’m still weighing all my options, but… well, don’t buy a place until you’ve talked to me first. Could you do that?”
“Yes, yes. Of course.”
“And don’t tell Ben. Let’s keep this between us. You, me and Kyle?”
“Sure. I know how the gossip gets around. I promise to keep this strictly confidential.”
“Good,” Rachel said. She grabbed the box. “Thank you, Ellen. And I guess we’ll be talking in the future.”
Ellen smiled. “I sure hope so.”
When they got outside, Dermot slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Are you all right?”
Rachel nodded. “I feel… relieved. Like a weight has been lifted. I suddenly have options.”
“Options,” he said.
“I think we should go out for lunch. My treat. There’s a great drive-in in Elkhorn. They have the best cheese curds,” she added.
“I am beginning to love cheese,” Dermot teased, grabbing the box from her arms. “Bring it on.”
Rachel leaned in and stole a kiss. “Come on, then. I’m hungry.”
As they drove down the country road, Dermot turned up the radio and sang along with a love song. The windows were open and the warm breeze buffeted through the truck. It was another perfect day, he thought to himself. There wouldn’t be many of them left. But now he had even more reason to hope that he might not have to count the days. Rachel might be his forever.
THE FEDEX TRUCK RUMBLED into the yard at exactly 10:00 a.m. Dermot and Rachel were walking back from the barn, Benny trailing after them. Rachel shaded her eyes against the morning sun. “I wonder what this is about.”
No doubt another missive from her siblings’ lawyers. The last time they’d sent registered mail. Now they were assaulting her with overnight packages. She thought they might finally give up now that Jane wanted to send her two sons to live at Clover Meadow. The balance of power had definitely shifted.
The driver hopped out of the truck and circled around to meet her in the middle of the drive. “Rachel Howe?” he asked.
“That’s me,” she said. She signed for the envelope, then took it from his hands. But it wasn’t from a lawyer. “This is odd,” she said to Dermot, staring at the bill of lading.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s from some kind of literary agency. Lynn Barrett Literary Agency in New York. Have you written a book that I don’t know about?”
“No. I never kiss and tell. What about you?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have the words to describe it all.”
“Hmm. Maybe you should give it a try. Talk dirty to me and all kinds of interesting things might happen.” He growled softly, then pulled her into his arms.
Rachel slipped out of his grasp. “You are going to have to learn to behave yourself, Mr. Quinn. If Jane is sending her boys here, we can’t have them corrupted by your out-of-control libido.”
“I’ll have you know, my libido was well under control until I met you.”
Rachel opened the envelope and reached inside to pull out a smaller one. Inside was a letter and she skimmed it as they walked to the porch. “Oh, my God,” she said, sitting down on the step. “They want to know if I’d be interested in illustrating a children’s book.” Rachel reread the letter. “Remember I told you about that publisher I talked to at the convention? She passed my card on to one of her authors. She’s asking if I have an agent.” She looked up at Dermot. “I can’t believe all of this is happening now.”
“This is a good thing. Do you have an agent?”
“No. I work with the greeting card publisher direct. Now Briar Hollow wants me to buy more goats. And then, in between milking goats and drawing skunks and ducks, and caring for two high school–age boys, I’m supposed to illustrate a children’s book.” She groaned. “Maybe in my spare time I could go to medical school and rewire the house.”
Dermot laughed, pulling her close. “It always helps to overreact, Rachel. Just throw all your insecurities out there and see what sticks.”