Bailey's Irish Dream (5 page)

His hands roamed intimately over her breasts, her nipples firming instantly under his touch.  Tiny gasps of pleasure escaped her lips as he continued to tease the tiny buds.  Bailey wound her arms around his waist and held him tightly.

Moving his hands from her breasts to her hips he pulled her boldly against his erection.  As he roused her passion, his own grew stronger.  Electricity hummed through his body, until he thought he might explode.  He knew it was pointless to go on, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. 

Hearing what sounded like a doorbell he carefully, and reluctantly, eased his mouth from hers.  “I’d like to get a little more practice time in,” Quinn said in ragged breaths, “ but I think I heard your doorbell.”

She opened her eyes slowly, her trembling limbs clinging to him. 
“Doorbell?”
she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes glowing with an inner fire.  Then, as if his words finally hit her, she pushed away from him and smoothed her dress with her hands.  “Omigod, they’re here!”  The doorbell sounded again, but Bailey just stood there, staring up at him.

“Do you want me to get it?” he suggested, wondering if she were frozen in place.

She brought a hand to her swollen lips and traced a finger along the edge of her bottom lip.  “No, no, I’ll get it,” she insisted, but still didn’t move.

Quinn reached out and touched her bare arms.  “Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course.”  She ran a hand through her hair.  “Do I look all right?”

“You look gorgeous.”  Like you’ve just been kissed senseless.

The heavy lashes that shadowed her cheeks flew upward, and intense astonishment touched her flushed face.  “Thanks.”  She sucked in a deep breath, smiled, and said, “Let’s go.” 

Quinn followed her to the door, wondering if he was doing the right thing.  Sure he needed the money, and yes he and Bailey had a deal.  But suddenly the thought of not only trying to dupe her family, but make them disgusted with him had lost its appeal.  Not that the idea had ever sounded appealing in the first place, but a deal was a deal, right? 

Since it was too late to back out, Quinn braced himself for the meeting.  He needed to make a very bad first impression. 
Act like a jerk
, he told himself over and over again.  For one hundred thousand dollars, he supposed he could do that without too much effort. 

A cacophony of laughter and squealing voices filled the house as soon as the door opened.  Hugs and kisses followed.  When things finally quieted down, Bailey turned and gave Quinn a brief smile.  “Mom, Dad, everyone, this is Stanley Davenport.  My fiancé.”

Doyle Maguire narrowed his eyes at Quinn, his lips twitching downward.  He was a tall, thin man, with dark red hair and bushy brows, and he didn’t look pleased to meet his future son-in-law.  In fact, he looked perturbed. 

Quinn chose him as his first victim.  Slapping the man on the back as hard as he could without knocking him over, Quinn said, “Hey, old man.  Good to finally meet you.”

Doyle’s face went grim as he stared at Quinn in silence, his mouth slackening.

Next Quinn moved to Mimi Maguire, a petite, attractive woman.  Gathering her in his arms, he lifted her from her feet and spun her around.  “Well, aren’t you just the prettiest thing.” 

“Oh, my!” Mimi shrieked, her hands grabbing at her strawberry-blonde French twist.  Quinn set the woman on her feet, keeping his hands on her arms to steady her.  Her expression was tight with strain.  “Good heavens, I wasn’t expecting anything like that.”

Bailey turned a vivid shade of scarlet. 
“Stanley,”
she said, reprimanding him.

Quinn gathered her to him and smacked his lips against hers.  “Yes, sweet cakes?”       

Bailey’s lips formed a tight smile as she squirmed out of his reach.  “I--You haven’t met my sister Kaitlyn yet.”

“Hey, Kaitlyn,” Quinn greeted her.  Kaitlyn was a small blonde who was an exact clone of her mother except for her protruding stomach.  It was so round it reminded him of a basketball. 

Kaitlyn took a step backward, warding him off with her hands.  “Please don’t pick
me
up.  After traveling for eight hours, I’m liable to wet my pants.”

“Kaitlyn,” her mother scolded, rolling her eyes and shaking her head from side to side.

Quinn chuckled, stepped forward and smacked Kaitlyn on the lips.  He liked her spirit.  “Looks like it could pop out at any time,” he said, boldly patting her stomach.

“Don’t I wish?” she answered, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Kaitlyn’s husband, a dark blond man built like a linebacker, didn’t look too pleased with Quinn, but he thrust his hand forward anyway.  “I think I’ll skip the kiss and the slap on the back and just shake your hand.  I’m Mark Lowell, Bailey’s brother-in-law.  Welcome to the family.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said, turning away to look at the three wide-eyed children standing beside Mark.  “Let’s see, you guys must be Krystal, Pancho and Dudley.  Right?”

The kids giggled and shook their heads.  A little girl with strawberry blonde ringlets stepped closer, and Quinn couldn’t resist picking her up.  She looked at him with bright green eyes and said, “I’m Kelly.  And that’s Patrick.”  She pointed to the younger boy wearing glasses, who promptly stuck his tongue out at her.  His two front teeth were missing.

“And that’s Dillon,” she added, her finger aiming at the taller boy.  “Dillon said a bad word in the car.”

“All right!” Quinn said, giving the boy a high-five.  Dillon glanced guiltily at his mother, then grinned sheepishly at Quinn. 

“Stanley, I take it you like children?” Mrs. Maguire asked, reaching to take her granddaughter from his arms.  Probably afraid he’d contaminate her.

“Well, sure I do.  I’ve got three of my own.  Or is it four?”  That got him a few gasps.  Including one from Bailey.  “Oh, yeah, it’s four.  I always forget about Huey.”

Doyle clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at Quinn while Bailey looped her arm through his, pinching his upper arm.  “Darling, you never told me you were married before.”

“I wasn’t,” he said with a wink.  “Well, just that one time, but that doesn’t count, since Bambi and I were both drunk.”

Bailey’s head shot up. 
“Bambi?”

“Well, I think we’ve all heard enough,” Mrs. Maguire said, gathering her grandchildren to her, and scowling at Quinn.  “Why don’t you children go wash your hands and faces?”  The kids walked away, reluctantly.  Probably afraid they’d miss something important.

“Wait until you see what Stanley prepared for dinner,” Bailey said, obviously trying to change the subject. 

“Stanley cooks?”  This from Mr. Maguire.  “I thought he played the piano.”

“He does both, Dad.”

“Uh, huh.  Well, since he’s so multi-talented, we could use some help unloading the van.  And besides, I’d like to have a word with him.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to help,” Bailey said, giving Quinn’s arm another pinch.  “Wouldn’t you, Stanley?”

Quinn wrinkled his face and
pushed a hand to the small of his back.  “Gee, sorry.  Bad back.”  Elbowing Mark in the side he winked, and in a low voice said, “I’ll tell you how I got it later, after the kiddies go to bed.”

Mark shot him a look of disgust.  Quinn would be very lucky if he didn’t get the crap beat out of him before the night was over.  He hated acting like such a jerk.  Bailey’s family seemed like nice people, and he didn’t like lying to them.  He only hoped they were buying his act so he could end this fiasco soon.  Looking at the disgusted faces staring back at him Quinn smiled inwardly.  Yep, they were buying it all right. 

“Mom, would you mind checking on the kids,” Kaitlyn asked, “while Dad and Mark unload the van?” 

“Of course I wouldn’t mind.  They’re my grandchildren,” she said, and off she went.

Kaitlyn grabbed Bailey’s hand.  “I need to talk to you. 
Alone
,” she said, giving Quinn the evil eye and dragging her sister away.  And here he’d thought Kaitlyn liked him. 

As soon as they were alone in Bailey’s bedroom, Kaitlyn whirled on her.  “What in the world is going on here?”

Bailey was careful to avoid her sister’s eyes.  Kaitlyn had always been able to see through her.  “What do you mean?” she asked innocently.  Lowering herself to the bed, she ran her fingers through Jade’s white silky fur. 

“I
mean
, what are you doing with a loser like Stanley?”

Meeting Kaitlyn’s eyes briefly, Bailey said, “Stanley’s not a loser.”  Well, maybe Stanley was, but Quinn certainly wasn’t.  

“Yeah, right.”  Kaitlyn rolled her eyes for effect.  “And that comment about having a bad back.  Hah!”  She slapped a hand against her thigh and rolled her eyes again.  “Bad back my butt!  That guy looks as fit as can be.  In fact, the only asset he has is his body.  And maybe his eyes,” she added as she began pacing back and forth, her perfectly round belly leading the way.

“He has a nice smile too, don’t you think?”  Bailey had no idea what had made her say that.  Other than the fact that she’d been thinking about Quinn’s mouth and lips a lot since that morning.  And those kisses.  She still hadn’t recovered completely.

Kaitlyn stopped her pacing and looked at her ruefully, her brows pulling together in a frown.  “Oh, honey, you have it bad.  How did you ever end up with someone like him?  You always went for the skinny, nerdy types.  What happened?”

She did?
  Shrugging, Bailey said, “I thought he was a nice guy.  I guess he had me fooled.  Mom and Dad probably won’t want me to marry him after all.”  She tried not to sound relieved.  She hated lying to her sister, but Kaitlyn had never been able to keep a secret. 

“You’ve got to be kidding.”  Kaitlyn started a new path in the white plush carpet.  “How could you even think about marrying a guy who not only doesn’t tell you he has kids, but doesn’t even know how many kids he has!”

Stopping directly in front of Bailey, Kaitlyn raised her finger and pointed it at Bailey’s nose.  “And believe me, if Stanley forgot about poor little Huey, God only knows how many other kids he’s conveniently forgotten over the years.  There’s probably a passel of them somewhere.  Maybe even some he never knew about.”  She released a huge breath, her strawberry blonde bangs lifting skyward and then settling over her brow.  “Loser,” she said, “L-O-S-E-R.”  As if Bailey didn’t know how to spell the word.

Bailey had never realized how protective her sister was.  And she’d never seen her this angry.  “We’re going to march right out there and tell Stanley to take a hike,” Kaitlyn said.

Bailey quickly got to her feet.  “Okay, but can we wait until after dinner?  He went to an awful lot of trouble, and I’d hate to spoil--”

“What is the matter with you!”  Kaitlyn came closer and touched a hand to Bailey’s forehead.  “The love bug must have bitten you hard.”  She looked away for a moment, then flopped onto the bed with an audible sigh and stared at her shoes.  “You’re hopeless.  I’m wasting my time.” 

Bailey sat down beside her sister and touched her hand.  “Stop worrying about me.  This will all work out.  You’ll see.”

Swiveling slightly toward Bailey, Kaitlyn said, “Promise me you won’t marry that guy.”

Bailey smiled.  “I promise.”

“You don’t seem very upset by any of this.  I mean, the guy lied to you, for heaven’s sake.  Show some emotion.  For someone who’s been jilted twice and then deceived by that overgrown jock . . .”  Kaitlyn shook her head, a stern-faced expression locked in place.

Trying to look grief-stricken and heartbroken, Bailey lowered her eyes and managed to blink a few drops of moisture into them.  “You’re right.  Stanley’s a loser.  I guess it just hit me.  Do I know how to pick them, or what?  I’ll probably end up being an old maid.”  She sighed loudly for effect.

“Maybe you’d be better off.  Marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be anyway.”

Bailey’s eyes grew huge with concern.  “Katie, you don’t mean that.  You and Mark have a perfect marriage.”

“I used to think so too.”  The tears in Kaitlyn’s eyes were real.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, looking away and rubbing beneath her eyes with her fingertips.  “It’s just hormones.  You’d think I could forget about my own problems long enough to get you through this crisis.”

“Forget about the wedding.  It’s not a big deal.”  Bailey realized she was serious.  For some reason, knowing she wasn’t getting married in eleven days was a welcomed relief instead of an earth-shattering disappointment.  In fact, she’d yet to cry over Stanley, which had her wondering if she’d loved him as much as she thought she had. 

“And then there’s Mom.”

“What about Mom?” Bailey asked, her stomach churning.  “Is something wrong I should know about?”

Kaitlyn smoothed her hair in place.  “I have such a big mouth.  Forget I said that.  I promised Mark I wouldn’t say anything that might worry you.”

“Katie, don’t do this.  First you hint there’s something wrong between you and Mark, and then you drop this on me.  She’s my mother too.  Out with it,” she demanded.

“Mark and I will be fine.  We’re just . . . not getting along,” she sobbed, dropping her head on Bailey’s shoulder.

Wrapping her arms around her sister, Bailey said, “Oh, Katie.  I’m so sorry.  Do you want to talk about it?”

Kaitlyn mumbled something that sounded like “no”, then lifted her head and pushed her hair back from her face. 

“It’s nothing.  Like I said, it’s probably just my hormones.  I’m imagining things, like Mark doesn’t love me anymore.”  She sniffed.

“Don’t be silly.  Of course he still loves you.”

“I know.”  She waved a hand in the air, as if to dismiss the entire subject.  “Hormones,” she said again.  “About Mom . . . Dad’s concerned.”  She pulled a tissue from the pocket of her black maternity dress and dabbed at her eyes.

“What’s wrong with her?  She looked okay to me.”

“I’m not sure.  Dad told me she hasn’t been herself lately.  And that she’s been seeing a doctor but she won’t tell him why.”

“A doctor?  Why wouldn’t she tell Dad?” 

“I have no idea, but when I asked her about it, she said Dad had no business worrying me, and that she was fine.”

A suffocating sensation clogged Bailey’s throat.  Her mother might be sick, and here she was playing a rotten trick on her.  How could she have done such a thing?  “Oh, God.  What have I done?”

Kaitlyn smiled sympathetically and patted Bailey’s arm.  “It’s not your fault.  You haven’t done anything.”

“Oh, Katie, you don’t know the half of it.”  Maybe she should just admit that she’d been dumped again and get it over with.  She thought about it for a minute, then decided to spill the beans.  “That man--who you think is such a loser--isn’t Stanley.”  She proceeded to tell Kaitlyn about the rest of her wild scheme.  There, she’d said it.  Getting the truth out felt much better than lying.

Kaitlyn’s eyelashes stood out in wet spikey clumps.  “Don’t tell me.  This was Gwen’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“Initially, but don’t blame Gwen.  I’m the one responsible for this whole mess.”

Kaitlyn continued to stare at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. 

“What’s so funny?”

Bringing her hands to her face, she laughed harder, tears rolling down her pink cheeks.  “You,” she said finally, massaging her belly.  “I can’t believe you did all that just because you were afraid you’d disappoint Mom.  Bailey, the perfect little daughter.  Always trying to stay on Mom’s good side.”

“Me?”
Bailey asked, shocked by her sister’s accusations.  “You’re the one who’s perfect.  Look at you.  Married to Mark.  Three beautiful children.  Another on the way.  You’re doing exactly what Mom expects of you.”

“Well, not anymore.”  Kaitlyn stood and made her way to the dresser mirror.  “And I suggest you start standing up to her too.”  She dabbed at her damp eyes and pinched her cheeks.

“What do you mean
not anymore
?”  Bailey got to her feet and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress.  “What are you going to do?” 

“Nothing.  We’ll talk later.  But right now, we’d better go rescue Mom.  That
fiancé
of yours is liable to make her faint with one of his off-color remarks.”

Bailey shuddered at her sister’s comment.  She hadn’t thought of that.  That was all she needed.  Her poor mother.  “I’m going to tell her the truth.”

“No, you’re not!” Kaitlyn said sternly.  “We’re going to play this out.”

“But what about Mom?  If she’s really sick--”

“Mom’s never been sick a day in her life.”  She opened the bedroom door and paused.  “Oh,” Kaitlyn said, spinning around.  “You and Quinn aren’t
really
involved, are you?”

Having been caught off guard Bailey felt her face flush.  “
Involved?
  Of course not.”  Unless those erotic kisses meant they were involved.  “I barely know the man.  Why would you think something like that?”

Kaitlyn studied her a moment.  “I don’t know.  Something about the way you two look at each other.”  Amusement flickered in her green eyes.  “I bet he’s a great kisser.”  Winking, she turned and headed out of the room.

“He’s a
fabulous
kisser,” Bailey whispered, her spine tingling with the memories.  Taking a deep calming breath, she followed her sister down the hall.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bailey and her sister had been gone for a long while, which had given Quinn plenty of time to get dinner ready and on the table.  As they ate he found himself wondering what they’d talked about. 
Him
, no doubt.  Kaitlyn had probably told Bailey to dump his ass.  And although that was the plan, Quinn decided he didn’t like the idea much.  He had his pride, after all.

The lady must be getting to him, he thought, watching as Bailey tasted each of the foods on her plate.  She took small bites, chewed daintily, thoughtfully, as if she were going to be quizzed about the experience later on.  Why did she have to make everything she did look so damn erotic? 

At any rate, he wasn’t interested in her, or so he told himself.  He had a business to run, and didn’t have time to get involved with a woman who didn’t know her own mind.  She’d been engaged three different times, for chrissakes.  It would do him good to remember that.  And she’d been willing to marry those yo-yos just to please her mother.  What ever happened to marrying for love?

While Quinn watched Bailey, he noticed she kept glancing at her mother across the table.  Was she nervous, or just looking for approval?  The rest of the family members kept their eyes trained on him, including the kids, making him pretty uncomfortable.  Surely they must hate having a scumbag at their dinner table, even if he had prepared the meal.

Other than the few compliments about his cooking talents, no one had spoken much.  It was so quiet he could hear them chewing.  He prayed the night would soon be over, so he could get back to his own life. 

What life?
  He was married to the bar.  But it was either that or take a chance on another partner ripping him off.  No, thank you. 

Something rubbed against his leg and Quinn jumped, banging his knee sharply against the table.  “Ow!”  The family watched as he lifted the edge of the tablecloth and peered underneath.  “Jade,” he said simply, glaring at the white ball of fur.  The cat glared back at him, and ran off toward the kitchen.

“Afraid of cats, are you?” Doyle Maguire challenged.  The man clearly detested him.

“No, sir.”

“Do you have any pets, Uncle Stanley?” Patrick asked, a hopeful expression on his freckled face.

Uncle Stanley
.  The name was enough to make him gag.  “No, I don’t.”

“Aunt Bailey said you have goldfish,” Kelly said, looking at her aunt for confirmation.

Quinn glanced at Bailey who smiled apologetically.  She’d forgotten to mention the fish.  “Oh yeah, that’s right.  I forgot about the fish,” he said.

Doyle snorted.  “It’s no wonder, if you forgot about your own kids.”  Quinn was surprised the man didn’t just throw him out. 

“What’s your fishies’ names?” Kelly asked sweetly, her eyes wide and expectant.

Shrugging, Quinn said, “They’re fish.  They don’t have names.”

Unconvinced, the little girl looked at Bailey again. 

“Stanley,” Bailey said softly as if she were talking to a child, “don’t you remember?  You named them Bach and Beethoven.”

Bach
and
Beethoven.
  “No, I don’t remember that.”

“Your uncle likes to tease,” Bailey said, smiling at her niece.

Doyle looked at Mark.  “I just remembered that joke I was going to tell you.  There was this guy--Fred--who went to visit his doctor,” he began.  “Old Fred complained that he hadn’t been feeling well and that he’d been forgetting things lately.” 

He grinned, waving his fork in the air, getting into it.  “So the doctor ran some tests on the guy.  The doc says, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Fred.  It seems you not only have terminal cancer but Alzheimer’s disease, as well.”  Maguire snickered, building up to the punch line.  “And Old Fred says, What a relief, Doc.  Thank goodness I don’t have cancer.”  He tilted his head back and howled just as several beeps sounded.