The Mighty Quinns: Dermot-Dex. Kate Hoffmann
“Maybe I would have hired one of your brothers?”
“Maybe,” he said. But the thought of Rachel with any other man but him was difficult to tolerate. “No. I don’t think so.”
“How do you know?” she asked. “If they look anything like you, I might have.”
“Actually, they all look a lot like me.” He ran his hand down to her breast, cupping the warm flesh in his palm. “But none of this would have happened.”
“How do you know?”
He bent close, his breath warm on her ear. “Because you were made for me, and me alone,” he whispered.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce kiss. “It’s like we know each other so well. But we only know us. We don’t know anything else. Just what’s gone on between us.”
“This is all that makes any difference,” Dermot said. “And the other stuff, we’ll learn later.”
“Later? When is later? Not tomorrow, or next week. We’re all out of time.”
He sat up next to her. “We don’t have to be, Rachel. We can find a way to be together. We just have to figure it out.”
“I can’t ask you to stay,” she said.
“And I won’t ask you to leave,” he countered.
“Then where does that leave us?”
He smoothed his hand across her cheek. “Maybe you’ll decide to leave. Or maybe I’ll decide to come back. You never know what might happen.”
She nodded slowly. “You never know.” Rachel lay back down and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. “Tell me what you’re going to do when you get home. I want to imagine you there.”
“First, I’ll probably lie down on my sofa. It’s a really nice leather sofa. And I’ll turn on the game. I get home on a Sunday, so that means football. Hopefully, the Seahawks will be playing. I’ll have a beer, take a shower and then at about five, my time, I’ll call you and we’ll spend the rest of the night on the phone.”
“That would be nice,” she said.
“And then I’ll talk to you through Skype and we can actually see each other.”
“That would be even better,” she said.
“This isn’t the end, Rachel. Not by a long shot.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You believe that, don’t you?”
“I think I do.”
He kissed her. “Good.” Dermot drew a deep breath. “We should probably go. I don’t want to miss my bus.”
“It’s not due for another hour,” she said.
“If we don’t leave now, I’m going to take off all my clothes and all of your clothes and we’re going to lose all track of time.”
Rachel stood up and held out her hand. “All right.
Let’s go.”
Dermot grabbed his bag and followed her out. Eddie was sitting on the porch of the old stone house. He waved and Benny came running up, looking for a treat. Dermot gave him a pat on the head before Rachel handed him the keys. He helped her into the passenger side. When he got behind the wheel, she was staring at him.
“What?”
“You know, I never even took a photo of you. We should have taken some photos.”
“I guess we were too busy with other activities,” he said.
“Promise you’ll send me one? Take one outside your house. Take lots of pictures of your house and your office, so I can imagine you there. And take a picture of your bed, too.”
“So you can imagine me there?”
“No, so I can imagine myself there with you,” she said.
He reached over and wove his fingers through the soft hair at her temple. “I think I can do that.”
The rest of the ride into town passed in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. He wanted to say so many things to her, to tell her how much she meant to him, to tell her that he was falling in love with her. But the more he said, the more complicated his leaving became.
And yet, why was he holding back now? He had a chance to change the course of his life, to capture the heart of the most incredible woman he’d ever met. Yet, he couldn’t gather the courage to put himself out there, to risk rejection, to expose his vulnerabilities.
Why couldn’t she say it first? Just so he knew that she felt the same way. Dermot thought he saw it in her face, in the way she looked at him. But he’d never been in love before, so it was difficult to know if he was reading the signs right.
By the time they reached town, he’d twisted himself into so many knots that he wasn’t sure where he stood with Rachel. He pulled up in front of the bus stop and they both hopped out of the truck. Rachel opened the tailgate and they sat on it, dangling their legs.
“Are you going to wait here with me?” he asked.
“I am. I’m going to spend every last moment with you that I can.”
“You’re not going to cry, are you? Because if you cry, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You can kiss me and tell me everything will be all right. And that we’ll see each other again soon.” She drew a ragged breath. “But I’m not going to cry. I think if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Please don’t cry,” he murmured. He bent close and kissed her. Even after all this time, the temptation to touch her was more than he could resist. He’d grown so used to having complete freedom around her, to act on his affections and his needs. “I don’t want that to be the thing I’m thinking of all the way to Seattle.”
“All right,” she said. “You’ll kiss me goodbye and that will be it.” She glanced at her watch. “We have some time yet. Why don’t we go inside and get a bite to eat? Then I won’t have to sit at the dinner table tonight, missing you.”
The town’s café served as the bus station, and before they got a table, he rechecked the schedule. Dermot ordered a large coffee and two ham sandwiches to go, and Rachel ordered a slice of pie. They shared the pie in a booth at the window, teasing and joking with each other in an attempt to alleviate the emotion between them.
When the bus pulled up in front of the café, Dermot reached out and took her hand, then pressed his lips to her fingers. Then they both got up and walked outside, her hand in his. Dermot was almost afraid to let her go, afraid that by doing so, the connection between them would be broken forever.
The bus driver looked at them. “Are you both traveling today?”
Dermot shook his head. “Just me.”
“Can I stow your bag?”
He shook his head. “I’ll carry it.” He turned back to Rachel. “So, I guess this is it. You’ll be all right on your own?”
She nodded, gently untangling her fingers from his. “I will. Don’t worry.”
He bent close, then pulled her body against his and kissed her. What began as a frantic meeting of lips and tongues softened into a kiss filled with longing and regret. Suddenly, he didn’t want to leave anything unsaid. He needed her to know exactly how he felt. “I love you, Rachel.”
She looked up at him with a wide-eyed gaze. “I—I love you, too.” She threw her arms around his neck. “I do.”
Dermot grinned, then kissed her again. “Good. I’m glad we have that settled.”
“Have a safe trip. And call me when you get home.”