Part 19 (2/2)
”Action. That's all I am to you.”
He looked her straight in the eye. ”I never said different.”
Nodding slowly, Quinn scanned his face as if she were memorizing his features-probably so she could make an accurate voodoo doll later. ”No, you've never said I mattered to you the way you matter to me. Not in so many words.”
”Not in any way at all,” Marcus clarified, his guard going up.
This wasn't going quite how Marcus had imagined it. And oh, yeah, he'd definitely seen this moment coming down the pike. Pretty much from the first moment he kissed Quinn, he knew they'd end up here eventually. He'd imagined more sobbing, more dramatic declarations. But Quinn had never done exactly what he expected, and she didn't start now.
”I may be young,” she said softly, ”but I'm not an idiot. And I'm not completely inexperienced. I know that what we have is something special.”
Marcus couldn't afford to waver. Not now. ”What we had,” he corrected her firmly. ”It's been fun, sweetheart, but you need to move on with your life. And so do I.”
Her eyes narrowed, the fringe of her lashes stark black against the milky paleness of her freckled cheeks. ”Why are you doing this?”
Because I need to get out now, while I still can.
The words tickled the back of his throat, nearly triggering his gag reflex, but he choked them back. Hoped his face conveyed nothing more than how little time he had for this c.r.a.p. ”It's for the best. You'll see.”
A shrill shriek from above shocked them both into motion. It was the smoke alarm, and Marcus cursed as he turned back to the stovetop where his omelet was scorching sullenly to the bottom of the pan.
When he'd turned off the heat and moved the skillet to a cold burner, he glanced back to see Quinn on her way out the door. Despite himself, despite everything he knew to be true about himself and the way the world worked, the sight made his guts clench up. But he said nothing.
Instead, Quinn got the last word. Standing in the kitchen doorway, she gave him one last, very unimpressed look.
”You talk about how young and inexperienced I am,” she said, meeting his eyes without flinching. ”But time and life will take care of those terrible flaws. You-Marcus, you're a coward. And no amount of time is going to change that.”
It was a good parting shot, and he let her have it. From down the hall, he heard female voices speaking softly, then the incredibly final sound of the front door closing. Moving on autopilot, Marcus picked up a spatula and walked over to sc.r.a.pe the disgusting, rubbery bits of egg into the sink. He couldn't help thinking of the last omelet he made, and the woman he made it for.
When an elderly lady's voice came from behind him, it almost could have been the voice from his memories, come back to haunt him the way she always threatened.
”What was that all about?” Miss Patty asked.
If Marcus could have smiled, he would have. Patty might remind him of his late boss, but there were differences. Mainly in that Patty sounded sympathetic right now instead of acerbic. G.o.d help him, but he missed the old bird.
Shoving down his emotions, Marcus set the clean skillet back on the stovetop and started cracking new eggs into a bowl. ”It was time. She was about to make a choice she would have regretted for a long time.”
”But it was her choice to make, don't you think?”
Marcus shrugged. ”And it was my choice to end things between us and fire her. So now she can make her choice with better information.”
”But not with all the information, hmm?”
His shoulders tensed so hard, they hurt. Slanting Patty a glance, he found her regarding him with a benevolent sort of exasperation that was so familiar, it gave him an instant of dej vu. ”What is that supposed to mean?”
”Oh, sugar.” Miss Patty wandered closer to lay one frail hand on Marcus's forearm where he'd rolled up his sleeves before starting to cook. He knew she could feel the tension thrumming through his frame, but he couldn't make himself relax. The exasperated gaze turned pitying. ”I knew it. You didn't tell her you donated the money for that position that just happened to open up at Windy Corner. Enough for them to pay for her certification, too?”
It was obviously no use denying it. Marcus nodded silently, then pinned the old lady with his more ferocious glare. ”She doesn't need to know. Ever.”
Patty sighed. ”Oh, I won't tell her. But I hope you'll pardon an old lady for having an opinion, which is ... you c.o.c.ked this one up but good, now didn't you?”
Chapter 24.
On the day of Tessa's first wedding, she'd been scared and alone, desperately grasping at the first kind hand extended to her. She hadn't had any friends to help her get ready. Her father would not be walking her down the aisle. She'd missed her mother.
Some things hadn't changed, she reflected as she gazed at her reflection in the old-fas.h.i.+oned beveled mirror in Miss Patty's guest room. Her father might be currently under treatment at a psychiatric facility instead of on his plot of land at the commune, but he still wouldn't be walking her down the aisle.
And Tessa still missed her mother, with a painful intensity of grief that had been stirred up by her recent experiences.
But this time around, she did have friends; she wasn't alone. In fact, this was the first moment she'd had to herself all morning. Between Quinn and Patty flitting around, helping her into her dress and insisting on doing her makeup, Tessa had never felt so pampered.
And this time around, she wasn't afraid, either. Johnny wasn't marrying her out of kindness this time. Today was all about love.
A tap at the door brought her out of her reflections. Shaking her head, she stood up from the vanity bench to let her friends back in.
”What now?” she called as she made her way to the door. ”We still have an hour before we need to leave!”
”Tessa.”
It was Johnny's deep voice, low and happy. Delight thrilled through her, and she leaned against the doorjamb longing for the time a few short hours from now when there would be nothing separating them any longer. ”What are you doing out there? Don't you know it's bad luck?”
”Only if we see each other,” Johnny said reasonably. ”I'm staying out here, don't worry. We're taking no chances this time around. But...”
He paused, and Tessa frowned slightly to hear the hesitance and tension suddenly creep into his tone.
”What's wrong?” Was he having second thoughts?
”Nothing,” Johnny a.s.sured her, easing the tight constriction around her lungs. ”But I have a present for you. I wasn't sure it would get here in time, but it's here. And I wish I could be there with you when you ... open it.”
Giddy with relief, Tessa laughed. ”Johnny! You're spoiling me. I don't need any more presents!”
”You need this one.” His voice was very certain, rough with an emotion Tessa couldn't identify. ”Here, I'm going to leave it here in the hall and go downstairs. Count to ten and open the door, I promise I'll be gone.”
Tessa fought the urge to pout. ”The best present would be getting to see your face,” she said. ”Maybe I'm not superst.i.tious after all.”
That made Johnny laugh. ”Oh, but you are, though. I know you, and the minute you see me before the wedding, you'll start worrying about our seven years of bad luck.”
”That's for broken mirrors,” Tessa corrected him instantly, then scrunched up her nose. ”I guess the fact that I know that sort of proves your point, huh?”
”I know you,” Johnny said again, this time so tenderly, it made the tips of her ears burn and her eyes sting with tears. ”And I'll see you very soon, honey.”
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