Urgent Vows. Joyce Sullivan
telling himself they’d be safer the second he left and made himself a visible target.
Hope came downstairs wearing a pale blue terry bathrobe, the prim bodice and rounded collar of a flower-sprigged flannel nightgown visible underneath. Quinn got the message. Hands off. “I checked on Kyle before I came down. He’s asleep. So, what do we do first?”
Quinn glanced at his watch. It was 10:47 p.m. He was supposed to call Tom at a particular pub at 11:00. “We call Tom to confirm the arrangements. He thought we could be married Monday. He’s booking a ceremony with a nondenominational minister. We just have to show up with a marriage license.”
Hope looked at him as if he was crazy, but her voice remained calm and even. She tried not to remember that once upon a time she’d wanted to be married by her father, who was a minister, in the church she’d been raised in. “Fine. You’ll need to accompany me to city hall to get the marriage license. They’ll need your signature. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to get the license without an appointment. Do you have a birth certificate or a passport with you?”
Quinn nodded, feeling awkward again. The fact that she knew what needed to be done to obtain a marriage license reminded him of her deceased fiancé and her lost dreams.
“We’ll need to pay the fee in cash. It could take an hour or so to get the license. Do you want to bring the children with us? I have a friend, Jolie, who pinch-hits for me here at the day care when necessary. I could ask her to look after the children.”
“I’d rather bring them with us. I don’t like letting them out of my sight.”
Her golden eyes softened. “Okay. I’ll bring lots of distracting toys.”
Quinn didn’t think Hope needed toys at all. She was a distraction herself. Her voice. Her hair. The soft curves of her body. And especially those eyes…. He reined in his thoughts. He’d be lucky if he lived long enough to say “I do.” And his promise to Tom that Hope wouldn’t get hurt included never touching her in the way a husband is meant to touch a wife.
It wouldn’t be fair to her if he did. She’d already mourned one man she’d intended to marry.
“Will you need Jolie to look after the kids you regularly care for?” Quinn frowned, considering the risks his presence posed to others. Maybe Jolie could look after Hope’s day-care kids at her own home until he was gone. It would be safer that way.
Hope dropped her gaze. “Actually, I’m not working next week. It’s a short work week leading up to Easter because of Good Friday, and most of my parents have Easter Monday off, too, so they’re taking vacation days to give themselves a ten-day break. Which gives me a ten-day break.”
Ten days. It should be enough time for the kids to fall in love with Hope. It had only taken an evening for Quinn to fall in love with her.
He tamped down firmly on that last thought. A trip down memory lane wouldn’t do either of them much good. He needed to stay focused. “That’s one problem solved. I’ll make sure I’m gone before you resume operations.” Creasing open his wallet, he extracted the piece of paper on which Tom had written the phone number for the pub. Then he punched in the number and passed the phone to Hope. “Ask to speak to Tom and say you’re his wife calling.”
Hope felt her hand shake as she gripped the phone. The precautions Quinn was taking—his talk of installing an alarm system, keeping the children within his sight and a bag packed for quick flight, and now, the cloak-and-dagger stuff with the phone—only increased her fears.
What if the hit man somehow learned Tom was assisting Quinn? The thought didn’t bear thinking about.
Hope heard the sound of a guitar and a smatter of applause in the background as her brother-in-law’s whiskey-smooth voice came on the line. “Hi, honey. Did your company arrive?”
“Yes, they’re here.”
“How are the kids?”
She assured him they were fine. “I’m phoning to tell you that Quinn and I have agreed to be married on Monday. We’ll get the license first thing in the morning.”
“You’re a good person. I just hope you won’t get hurt. Our friend strikes me as being a man of his word. I’ll do my best to protect your interests. But we’ll have to keep this news private. I don’t think we should tell your sister or your parents.”
“Our friend mentioned that. I understand.”
“Good. I’ll meet you Monday at one at the minister’s house. Our friend has the address.”
Hope gestured at Quinn to show her the slip of paper the phone number had been written on. Sure enough, there was an address on it, as well. And thank heavens it wasn’t the same renovated church where she’d planned to marry David.
“Fine. I’ve got it, Tom. We’ll be there.”
Hope punched the end conversation button and raised her eyes to meet Quinn’s steady gaze. Her heart twisted painfully at the thought of how brief he’d implied their marriage could be. Her voice trembled. “It’s all set. We’re getting married Monday at one.”
For the sake of those two precious babies sleeping upstairs, Hope prayed this time she’d actually get to exchange vows with the groom.
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