Trinity Falls (24 page)

Ramona's heart lurched. She spun her chair away from her computer monitor and pointed it toward her doorway. Even after several blinks, the suddenly sexy university professor didn't disappear like an apparition conjured by her secret fantasies.

“It's New Year's Eve.” Her response was faint. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I thought you were in Florida.”

“I got back this morning.” Quincy paced forward.

His long legs were clad in dark blue jeans. His broad-shouldered torso was gift wrapped in a sage green crewneck. Ramona's heart thudded in her chest. They were the only two souls in the building. Everyone else had the week between Christmas Eve and New Year's Day off. She swallowed hard.

“You usually stay until after the New Year.” She couldn't pull her gaze from him as he drew closer.

Quincy settled into the visitor's chair in front of her desk. “I hadn't realized you'd noticed.”

Neither had she, until this moment. Ramona's gaze dropped to her desk. It was sturdy . . . sturdy enough to bear the weight of two people.

She raised her eyes to Quincy. “What made you come back early this year?”

Quincy cocked his clean-shaven head. “What made you drop out of the mayoral race?”

His coal black eyes locked with hers. Was he trying to read her thoughts? Funny, today she wouldn't mind that.

Ramona crossed her arms. He wasn't to know she was giving in to him so easily. “Did Darius tell you that?”

“I read it in the
Monitor
's online edition.”

“Oh.” She regarded him stubbornly.

Quincy's rugged features softened into a smile. His dark eyes brightened with humor. “Are you going to tell me?”

Ramona dropped her arms and looked away. “You were right.”

“What did you say?”

“You were right.”

“Excuse me?”

Ramona smothered a smile. “Shut up.”

Quincy's chuckle strummed the muscles in her lower abdomen. “This is a historic event. As a professor of history, I have to make sure it's properly chronicled.”

Ramona rolled her eyes. “I'll give you some injuries to chronicle, if you don't stop making fun of me.”

Quincy flashed a grin. “What was I right about?”

“You said I was using Trinity Falls as a crutch. I am.” She dug deep for the fortitude to hold the history professor's gaze. “It's safe here. I have followers, even if I don't have friends. So when I do screw up—like I did as mayor—most people won't tell me.”

“You put the town on the right track, so stop saying you screwed up.” His dark eyes glowed with irritation. “Because of you, Trinity Falls is becoming more economically stable, and long-awaited repairs have finally been completed.”

Ramona blinked. “Then I guess it was all that success that made the good people of Trinity Falls want to make me a one-term mayor.”

“Honey, people only spoke out against you when you started to take a wrong turn. But you were smart enough to hand the wheel over to someone else.”

“Thanks for that.” Ramona nodded, although she hadn't heard a single word he'd said after “honey.”

“Now that you're not running again, what are you going to do?”

Ramona shrugged. “Move.”

“Where?”

“I haven't decided yet.” She frowned. The look in Quincy's eyes and the tone of his voice were guarded. What had he wanted her to say?

Quincy tightened his grip on the arms of Ramona's cushioned guest chair. He didn't want her to know he was growing desperate at the thought of her leaving Trinity Falls, and the possibility he'd never see her again.

His shrug felt unnatural. “There's no rush, is there?”

“Of course not. I don't have a timetable. Besides, I don't want to move in the middle of winter.”

“Good.”
The word emerged with more force than Quincy had intended.

A glimmer of a smile twinkled in Ramona's ebony eyes. “I'm glad you approve.”

Act cool.
“Since you don't have a timetable or a particular city in mind, maybe you'll consider Philadelphia in the spring.”

She gave him another one of her long, slow blinks that mesmerized him. “Philadelphia? With you? Has Penn offered you the job?”

“No.” Quincy struggled to put the brakes on his accelerating anxiety. “But the telephone interview went well. I'm hopeful they'll invite me for an on-campus interview in the spring.”

“I thought you didn't want me to follow you to Philadelphia.”

“I didn't say—”

“I can paraphrase what you said.” She crossed her arms again. “You
said
—and I'm practically
quoting
now—that I was an independent, capable, intelligent woman, who would do fine on her own.”

“Yes, that's what I said.”

“So have you changed your mind? Am I no longer a capable, independent, intelligent woman? Do I need you now?”

Quincy rubbed his hands over his face. He felt her rising tension. Why was it so hard for him to communicate with her?
Because I'm afraid.

He tried harder. “I didn't want you to move to Philadelphia with me if you were only interested in Philadelphia, not me.”

Ramona tilted her head, causing her loose raven tresses to slide to her right shoulder. “Are you asking me to move to Philadelphia with you so that we could live together? Before we've even dated?”

“We've been on a date.” His palms were starting to sweat. “I brought you food from Trinity Falls Cuisine; salmon, your favorite.”

She laughed at him. “Eating takeout in my dining room is not a date.”

Quincy briefly considered texting Darius for advice. He was certain the reporter would know how to handle this volatile situation. “What would you consider a date, then?”

Irritation was edging out amusement in her eyes. “Quincy, you're thirty-two years old. I'm sure you've been on at least one first date in your life. And I'm sure it didn't involve eating salmon out of a Styrofoam container.”

His cheeks were growing warm. “No, it didn't.”

“I'm talking roses, music, a meal with silverware and plates. A kiss.”

“A kiss”?
Quincy stood and strode around her desk as Ramona continued her list. She was up to tablecloths and fancy clothes. But she came to an abrupt stop when he spun her seat to face him and gripped the arms on either side of her chair. Her eyes widened as he lowered his mouth to hers.

He'd wanted to kiss her silent for years. Hell, he'd wanted to kiss her for forever. He'd gone out of his mind wondering what she'd taste like. Now he knew. Her taste was a mix of contradictions, like the woman herself. Sweet and spicy. Sharp and tender. Hot and cool.

Quincy reluctantly drew back. His gaze lifted from her moist, plump lips to her dark, dreamy eyes. “Ramona McCloud, will you go out with me?”

Her lips parted with a smile. “Oh yes. I'll go out with you, Quincy Spates. But I'll plan the evening.”

“Fair enough.” Quincy stepped back, drawing Ramona up and into his embrace. Her eyes drifted closed as he lowered his head to hers. “As long as we start right now.”

CHAPTER 37

“This was the worst Christmas I've ever had.” Ean fixed his gaze on Darius's flat-screen television. He was more interested in avoiding his friend's eye contact than in this New Year's Eve college football bowl game.

“It was your first Christmas without your father. How's your mother?” Darius reached forward to bathe his tortilla chip in the salsa bowl sitting on his coffee table.

“She's better today.” Ean glanced at Darius. “It was nice of you and Leo to stop by.”

The words seemed inadequate. Ean grew quiet as he remembered the dozens of people, including Darius and Leonard, who'd dropped in on him and his mother. Even Ms. Helen had paid a visit. Life in a small town; everyone knew everyone's business, and rallied around their neighbors in need. Their friends truly seemed interested in helping them through their first Christmas without Paul Fever.

Darius washed down his chips and salsa with a swig of soda. “Your mother makes the best pies.”

That was Darius's way of saying, “You're welcome.”

Darius grunted. “Quincy had the right idea. Convince your parents to retire to Florida, then spend the holidays with them, surrounded by beaches and palm trees.”

“Which makes coming back to the snow even harder.” Ean's tone was dry. The joke helped lift his mood, at least temporarily.

Darius's tidy two-bedroom apartment bordered on barren. In fact, if it hadn't been for the calendar in the kitchen, one wouldn't have any idea it was the holiday season. Ean couldn't remember the last time Darius had gotten into the Christmas spirit.

“How was your Christmas?” Ean turned to his childhood friend in time to see his features stiffen.

“I survived it.” Darius munched on another chip as he stared at the television. “I always look forward to sharing dessert with your family.”

“We enjoy your company.” Ean's gaze was once again drawn to his surroundings.

Darius's bookcase served as the only window to his personality. It was crammed with nonfiction books, most on current events. The pictures on his fireplace mantel chronicled Darius's years with Ean and Quincy. There were no family photos. You wouldn't guess his parents lived two blocks away.

“How are things with you and Megan?” Darius's question distracted Ean from his concern for his friend.

“We exchanged Merry Christmas voice mail messages Christmas morning.” Ean barely registered the wide receiver's touchdown reception in the end zone.

Darius grunted again. “That's lame.”

“I know.” Ean's face heated. Perhaps he and Megan were both cowards, too afraid to face each other. “What exactly is the problem?” Darius seemed to have shaken off his maudlin mood in preference to interrogating Ean on the subject of his love life—or lack thereof.

“I told you. She doesn't trust me.”

“And you're basing this charge on her misunderstanding the reason your ex-bosses came to town.” Darius leaned forward and grabbed another fistful of tortilla chips from the bowl on his coffee table.

“That's right.” Ean heard the righteous indignation in his voice.

“What would you have thought if the situation had been reversed?”

“If I'd been the one who saw Megan having lunch with her former boss?”

“Right.” Darius gestured with a chip. “But she hadn't told you that her boss was coming to Trinity Falls, or that she was meeting her boss for lunch.”

“I wouldn't have thought anything. I would've waited for her to explain the situation to me.”

“Really?” Darius arched a brow.

“Really.” Ean added a firm nod for emphasis.

“That's interesting.” Darius's eyes said he didn't believe Ean. “I'd thought lawyers were more suspicious.”

“You were wrong.”

“Frankly, dude, I'd have been suspicious of you, too.”

Ean frowned. What was Darius's point? “Why would I even consider an offer from my former bosses? It was my decision to leave the firm and move back to Trinity Falls. No one forced me.”

“Then why didn't you tell Megan you were meeting with them?”

“You know why.” Ean sighed. “I didn't want to get her hopes up in case the partnership to buy the center didn't work.”

“But in her mind, you were keeping secrets.” Darius gestured with the chip again. “How can there truly be trust in a relationship if the people involved in it are keeping secrets?”

Ean refused to acknowledge that Darius was making sense. “And in my mind, she should have asked a question, instead of coming at me like some overzealous government prosecutor.”

Darius laughed. “Maybe she came at you kind of strong, but you're expecting too much of her, man.”

“It's too much to expect trust from the woman with whom I'm in a relationship?” Ean's eyes stretched wide. “The reason she refused to move in with me is that she's afraid I'm not going to stay.”

Darius settled back into the corner of the sofa and balanced his left ankle on his right knee. “Have you ever put yourself in Megan's shoes?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Megan is a classic ‘fear of abandonment' case, and she has good reason. Every significant person in her life has left her. Her parents died when she was young. Her grandmother died when she was in high school. Her grandfather died before she graduated from college. And her cousin's always threatening to leave Trinity Falls.”

“I never thought of that.” Ean remembered Megan's words
“Everyone leaves, Ean.”
He wanted to smack himself.

“It's no wonder she's waiting for you to leave, dude, especially since you've left before.”

Ean searched his friend's face. “How did you know all this? Did she tell you?”

Darius shook his head. “She didn't have to. I'm a journalist. I've got mad observation skills.”

Ean chuckled without humor. “In other words, I'm a self-centered asshole.”

Darius threw back his head and laughed. It was the first genuine amusement he'd heard from his friend all day. “Don't put words in my mouth, man. You've only been back two and a half months. That's not enough time, even for someone with my observation skills. It's also not enough time for Megan to fully believe you aren't going to leave her.”

Ean drained his can of root beer as he mulled over Darius's words. His friend's theory made sense. Why hadn't he realized it on his own? He'd been blind, self-centered and—yes—stupid. Ean clenched his teeth. Maybe he hadn't been back long enough to recognize the reasons behind Megan's hesitation, but he'd known Megan practically their entire lives. He should have realized her personal experiences would make her cautious about his commitment.

“What should I do?” Ean looked up as Darius handed him another can of soda. He hadn't noticed his friend had left the room for drinks.

“Ah, you've recognized my wisdom.” Darius sank back onto the sofa and popped open his soda. “Be patient. Stop pressuring her to trust you. Let her set the pace, and the trust will come.”

Ean nodded, but his heart was still heavy. “What if it's too late? What if I've pressured her so much that I've already pushed her away?”

“Then you'll need to consult someone with much more wisdom than me.”

“Who?”

Darius gulped his soda. “I'd start with your mother.”

 

 

Megan let herself into Ean's townhome Tuesday evening with the key he'd given her two weeks earlier. She pressed a hand to her abdomen. The butterflies in her stomach must be hosting a rave. She dried her sweating palms against the thighs of her black jeans, then bent to haul her two stuffed suitcases—one at a time—across his threshold. She took her time shoving them into a corner beside the staircase. After locking the front door, she was out of delaying tactics. Megan took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. It was time to plead her case.

She mounted the stairs, letting the sound of the shower lead her to the master bedroom. The water stopped as she crossed the threshold.

Ean had set a change of clothes on the bed, stone gray slacks and the burgundy sweater she liked. A chill trailed down her spine. Where was he going? It was New Year's Eve. With whom was he celebrating?

Megan sank onto the foot of the bed and lifted his sweater. Was she too late? Had he given up on her?

Ean emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a cloud of steam and nothing else. The scent of soap and shampoo trailed after him. He took her breath away. He appeared like a mythological hero—larger than life, brave, bold. She yearned to trace the sculpted muscles under his dark, damp skin, but this was too important. She couldn't afford distractions.

Ean stopped when he saw her. Surprise and confusion swept through his olive gaze. She was used to a warmer welcome.

“Megan?” He sounded uncertain.

Megan released his sweater and stood on shaky legs. She braced her calves against the mattress for support. “I'm sorry to barge in on you. I hadn't realized you were on your way out.” She gestured with a trembling hand toward his neatly laid-out clothing.

Ean's attention dropped briefly to his bed before returning to her. He was silent for several long seconds. Was he trying to think of a way to ask her to leave?

“How did you get in?” He crossed to the bed and began to dress.

Megan's eyes ate up his long legs and tight hips. She dragged her gaze up his muscled torso to his face. “You gave me a key to your townhome, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” He pulled his slacks on over his underwear. “I thought you were a mirage.”

What's that supposed to mean?
It was time to stop stalling. Megan wrapped her arms around her waist. “I've contacted a Realtor.”

Ean seemed startled. “Why?”

The sound of the zipper closing over his fly drained the moisture from her mouth. Megan remembered his question. “I'm putting my grandparents' home on the market. I want to move in with you. I was afraid to, before. But I shouldn't have let fear control my feelings for you. You were right.”

“I was wrong.” Ean's flat statement interrupted Megan's halting admissions.

“What?”
Oh, God, did I wait too long?
Did Ean not want her to move in with him anymore?

“I was an ass.”

“What?” Now she was thoroughly confused.

“
You
were right. I was on my way to tell you that. I had no right to pressure you into moving in with me, making that kind of commitment in only two months.” Ean pushed his hands into the front pockets of his gray slacks. “We'll go at your pace.”

At her pace? Was he willing to give her another chance? Did he believe her now?

Megan spread her arms. “But I'm ready to make that commitment to you. I do believe that you've come home to stay. But even if you haven't . . . If you want to return to New York, or move to Philadelphia or Timbuktu—I'll go with you.”

Ean's body froze. When he'd walked into his bedroom and found Megan sitting on his bed, he'd thought he was hallucinating. He'd thought all the nights of wanting her had caused his mind to snap. Now he thought he might be dreaming. “You'd leave Trinity Falls for me?”

Megan brushed her hands over her eyes. “A house and a store are not more important to me than you.”

Ean didn't remember moving. But suddenly Megan was in his arms. He was holding her so tight and kissing her so deep. Her body against his, her heat seeping into his skin was healing the aches he'd borne over the past week. He tasted joy, relief, hunger—hers and his.

He plunged his tongue into her mouth, seeking her response. She pulled him even closer, digging her fingertips into his shoulders. Ean lowered his left hand to her firm buttocks and squeezed. Megan pressed her hips tighter against his burgeoning erection. She was with him. She responded with him and to him. His blood rushed through his veins. He wanted her now; he needed her always. Ean cupped her hips to raise her against him. He started for the bed. Megan wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You believe me now?” Megan's breathy question confused him.

“Believe what?” He laid her on the mattress and covered her body with his own.

“That I know you're staying in Trinity Falls. That I trust you. That our relationship is more than sex.”

Ean raised himself on his forearms and looked into her hot chocolate eyes. “I believe you. But I want you to take your grandparents' home off the market.”

She gave him her long, slow blink, which always melted his heart. “But I want to move in with you.”

He pressed a quick, hard kiss against her soft lips. “I want to live with you, too. But your grandparents left you that house. I'd rather we lived there, if that's all right with you.”

“I'd like that.” Megan's smile started in her eyes. She cupped the side of his face. “Happy New Year, Ean. Welcome home.”

Ean pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. “My home is in your arms, and that's where I want to spend the rest of my life.”

He lowered his head to seal his promise with a kiss. Tonight they'd celebrate their new beginning, the New Year and Trinity Falls.