From Boss to Bridegroom (7 page)

Chapter Seven

F
riday evening, Nicole arrived at Megan and Lucian's too late to hear her sister entertain the local children with a story. Weaving her way through the sea of parents and children juggling glasses of lemonade and platter-size cookies, she reached Megan's side only to stop short.

“What is
he
doing here?”

Megan, who tended to dress like the characters in the books she was reading, resembled a shepherd girl tonight. Leaning on her curved staff, she searched the room until she'd located the source of Nicole's ire. Quinn stood in front of the parlor fireplace conversing with Cole and Rachel Prescott. “Lucian invited him.”

“Why?”

Wasn't putting up with his superior presence all day at the mercantile enough? Must she be forced to watch him attempt to charm his way into folks' good graces during her off hours, too?

Things had been strained between them since the confrontation. She couldn't dismiss the accusation in his eyes, the humiliation she'd endured while he'd checked the contents of her basket against the ledger input.

“Lucian thought it might be nice for people to get to know Quinn in a casual setting.”

“How thoughtful.”

At the sarcasm rolling off her tongue, Megan turned to study her. “Why does his presence bother you?”

“Haven't you heard the phrase familiarity breeds contempt? I'm with the man way too much as it is.”

“Hmm.” Speculation swirled in her sea-blue eyes. “I don't think I've seen you this flustered over a man before. You've always maintained your composure, no matter how handsome the guy and with no thought to the courage it took for him to approach you.”

She thought of Kenneth's invitation to the harvest dance. Caught off guard by his sudden appearance in her barn, she'd refused his request without hesitation. Had she been too harsh? Would he still be angry and revengeful if she'd taken pains to let him down gently?

Nicole schooled her countenance. If she didn't squelch the matchmaking light in her sister's eyes, there'd be trouble of the most embarrassing kind. “I am not flustered.
Irritated
would be a better word. Quinn Darling irritates me. But I didn't come here to discuss my boss.” Holding up the slim volumes she'd borrowed for Lillian, she nodded toward the wide entrance. “I'm finished with these. Mind if I borrow more?”

“I told you already, you may take as many as you'd like.” Megan's cheeks flushed with peach-hued pleasure. “I can't get over your newfound love of books. We finally have something in common.”

Nicole grimaced as guilt washed over her.

Megan saw it and, smile fading, clasped her hand. “Nicole, is something besides Quinn bothering you? I've had the sense something has been troubling you for a while. You can confide in me, you know. I won't judge.”

“Like you confide in me?” she retorted.

The only reason she knew about Megan's struggle to have a baby was because Rebecca had let it slip. Her own sister had confided in Caleb's wife rather than her. While the knowledge hurt, it didn't surprise her. Nicole wasn't close to any of her sisters.

Freeing her hand, she continued, “We don't have that kind of relationship. Never have. I'm the piece of the O'Malley puzzle that doesn't quite fit.”

Megan's sigh was audible above the chatter in the well-appointed room. “You do fit, Nicole. In your own way, you do. You just refuse to see it. And for whatever reason, you refuse to let anyone close. You're the one who throws up obstacles in order to keep the rest of us at arm's length.”

Her words sliced deep. Megan was right. She had intentionally created space between herself and her sisters. And even though Nicole acknowledged the truth, recognized her role in the current state of their sisterhood, lifetime habits weren't easily broken. “I'm exhausted. I'm going to return the books and head home.”

“Nicole, wait—”

Ignoring the soft protest, she hastened to reach the hallway. The sooner she left Gatlinburg, the sooner she could start fresh in Knoxville. Cultivate better relationships in her new surroundings.

At the far end of the hall across from the stately dining room, the softly lit library was blessedly empty. Scents of leather and paper masked the room's musty hint. Bold maroon wallpaper contrasted nicely with the dark wood furniture and gleaming floors. While she wouldn't choose to read in here, it would be a nice place to curl up with her needles and fabrics.

Thoughts in turmoil, she traversed the narrow space between the red-striped camelback sofa and floor-to-ceiling shelves on the wall behind it, absently skimming her fingers over the spines. Hitting upon the empty slots where her latest picks belonged, she slid them in and began hunting for stories that would please both siblings.

She was perched near the top of the rolling ladder, scanning the upper shelves, when an accented voice from the doorway startled her.

“I did not figure you for a reader.”

Upper body swaying dangerously, Nicole dropped the book in order to seize the ladder with both hands. She scowled at the dapper figure striding toward her. “How did you figure that? Was it something in my eyes? The way I speak, perhaps? Do I not sound intelligent to your Northern ears?”

Quinn scooped up the book and, stretching his left arm behind her legs, gripped the opposite ladder edge. His face was upturned, brown eyes fastened onto her face and a slight pucker in his brow. “I observe people. Call it a hobby, if you will.” He lifted the book to her. “I guess I was wrong this time.”

The press of his muscular arm against the back of her knees rendered them practically useless. Oh, why must physical contact with him cause these strange bodily reactions?

“Are you attempting to trap me up here?”

Sparks of mischief kindled in his eyes. “I was preventing you from falling. Wouldn't want you to break something and be unable to perform your assistant duties.”

“I wouldn't be in danger of falling if you would keep your distance.”

One black eyebrow arching at her, he removed his hand but remained where he stood. Nicole carefully made her way to the bottom and retreated to the single window on the opposite side of the room, occupying herself with the view of the sweeping side yard bathed in the pastel orange and pink swirls of sunset.
Go away, Quinn.

He didn't take the hint. Following her, his lean body boxed her in, not invading her space but close enough for her to sense the heat coming off him, smell his spicy—and no doubt expensive—cologne. A cushiony chair blocked her escape.

“What do you want?” Sighing, she turned to face him, realizing too late her mistake. Inches separated them. She found herself fascinated by the ripple of hard muscle beneath the fine white cotton shirt, the strong, golden column of his throat above the charcoal coat collar, his carved chin that was at once charming and obnoxious.

He was wearing a serious my-dog-just-died expression. “You want the truth?”

Not really. “Um—”

“I followed you because I wanted to apologize for the way I acted the other evening. I overreacted, and I'm sorry. You've given me no reason not to trust you.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn't help but notice, too, that you seemed upset while talking to your sister. I came to make sure you were all right.”

Nicole found herself tongue-tied. Quinn was worried about her? The knowledge didn't irritate her as it should. In fact, his concern caused a sticky-sweet warmth to build up inside.

“I'm fine.”

“Why don't I believe that?” He cocked his head to one side, his astute gaze laying bare her inner secrets. “I've had plenty of time to observe you in the company of your sisters, and there exists a barrier between you. I've noticed you tend to keep everyone at a distance. I wonder—”

“Stop.” The warmth dried up, leaving her empty and wanting. Angry, too. “Stop acting as if you know everything there is to know about me, Quinn Darling. You've twice accused me of being a thief, and now you're analyzing my family relationships?” She poked his chest, and he blinked in surprise. “You think you're so high and mighty because you're a member of the prestigious Darling family, heir to a vast fortune and lifelong resident of the great city of Boston. You think that because we talk slower and live in log cabins and wear calico and overalls that we're dull, illiterate provincials. Let me tell you something—your Harvard diploma doesn't give you the right to come here and judge us when it's clear you know nothing.”

Pushing past him, she left the house without saying goodbye to Megan and without the books she'd promised Lillian. If she didn't get far away, she would be tempted to strangle her boss. The foreign notion evoked a bubble of hysterical laughter.

Admit it,
a voice prodded,
you're angry because he echoed Megan's assertions. You're upset that he can see the truth about you. You're worried that, like everyone else in this town, he'll look too closely and find you lacking.

* * *

Quinn hadn't been able to get their exchange—and Nicole's obvious distress—out of his head. He'd tossed and turned all night, plagued not only by worries about how to secure the townspeople's confidence, but about her, as well.

Despite her air of competency, Quinn's perceptive nature had homed in on the vulnerability she worked valiantly to mask. His standoffish assistant had stirred his protective instincts to life, and he couldn't think of anyone who'd welcome his protection less.

A few feet below where Quinn stood on the riverbank, Caleb locked the springhouse door and maneuvered the steep incline with ease. Whipping off his worn Stetson to run a gloved hand through his black hair, he rested against the wagon bed. “That's the last of it. I'll have another delivery early next week.”

Quinn pocketed the key Caleb held out to him. “We may need more cheese. It's popular with my customers, and Mrs. Greene has need of it for her café menu.”

“We can provide whatever you need.” Glancing in the direction of the bridge spanning the river, Caleb straightened. “Here comes my cousin.”

Quinn squinted in the early-morning sunshine streaming through the leaves overhead. From this distance, he couldn't make out her expression. Her bright apricot skirts swished with each long stride, the nipped-in bodice and capped sleeves showing off her lithe figure. As she came nearer, he noticed her hair had been wrestled into a more severe hairstyle than usual, a tight, long twist nestled between her shoulder blades, not one lock out of place. What she couldn't know was the style showcased her most impressive feature—those unusual-hued eyes that appeared to glow with lavender light.

“Morning, Nicki,” Caleb drawled with a wicked grin.

“Caleb.” She flicked her cousin a narrowed glance before addressing Quinn. “May I have a word with you?”

Her resigned expression filled him with unease. Was she about to quit her position? His insincere challenge the other evening had slipped out, fueled by annoyance. He valued her work and would miss her competence and dedication when she left. “Certainly.”

Placing a hand at the small of her back, he guided her farther down the grassy bank. A groundhog scuttled away, seeking refuge near the deep green water's edge, but he gave it only a cursory glance. “What's on your mind?”

Fingers plucking at the pleats on her skirt, she shifted away from his touch to stand facing him. Her chin went up. “It's my turn to apologize. You're my boss, and I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did last night.”

The tension left his shoulders. “It is true that I'm your boss part of the time. However, when we aren't at the mercantile, we are...” He rummaged through his brain for an appropriate label.

“Acquaintances.”

Quinn frowned. That wasn't quite what he'd been going for. “Whatever we agree to call our relationship, you and I are on equal footing. It won't be easy at first, but we will find a way to navigate our interactions.”

While her violet gaze was unflinching, he caught a flicker of something akin to trepidation. “I still have a job, then?”

“Yes, of course.” He huffed a light laugh. “Nicole, I value honesty. I want you to be frank with me. I can handle whatever you feel the need to say.”

Her thick lashes swept down to skim her cheeks. Boot toeing a cluster of dandelions, she nodded.

Behind him, Quinn heard the restless shuffling of Caleb's team. He half turned. “I think your cousin is ready to leave.”

“I'll go on in and open up.”

Sweeping past him, her sweet-as-a-rose scent enveloped him, and he watched her nimbly ascend the stairs, spine straight and shoulders set, posture fit for a queen. He never would've expected her to apologize, especially to him. One thing was certain—she prized this job and the income that would allow her to one day leave Gatlinburg.

He strode over to Caleb, ignoring his obvious amusement. “Help me out, O'Malley. Share your insight on how to best navigate daily interactions with your cousin.”

He tilted his head back and laughed outright. “Not a chance, my friend. No one gave me a clue how to handle Becca, yet we managed to figure each other out just fine.”

“You misunderstand.” He held up his palms, “I'm not asking in a romantic capacity. Not at all. My interest is strictly professional.”

Better watch it, Darling—wouldn't want to get struck by lightning.

“Whatever you say.” Still chuckling, Caleb hauled himself onto the wagon seat and looped the reins in one hand. “I could give you some pointers, but I wouldn't wanna rob you of the fun of figuring her out on your own. If you can. Truth is, I haven't had that much luck.”

With a final wave, he released the brake and set the wagon in motion.

“Fun?” he muttered to himself. “You and I have different ideas of fun, my friend.”