Shared Too (4 page)

“Fine. Bramble took a while to load. He didn’t enjoy the bumpy journey to the Pendine horse show last week. He thought he was in for another ride over potholes.”

“We got him on in the end, though,” Liam said, helping himself to more pudding.

“I shoved at his butt until he had no choice but to get up the ramp.”

“Plus Jasper was already loaded and he wasn’t about to be parted with him,” I added, giving Quinn a knowing look.

Liam shrugged. He clearly thought it was his brute strength that had pushed a stocky pony onto a trailer. I didn’t say anything. He was a big strong guy with muscles most men would give their right arm for, but I doubted even Liam could push a horse onto a trailer if it really didn’t want to go.

“And dorms?” Quinn asked.

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Lily Harlem

“Same as last year.”

“Good, that suited them, didn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s nice to know they’ve got their best friends with them.” I set down my spoon and felt a tightening in my chest. It was so quiet around the table without their incessant chatter about ponies and the next show-jumping competition. I missed not having to remind them to eat with their mouths shut and finish all their vegetables.

“Hey,” Quinn said, reaching across the table and resting his hand over mine. “It’s only eight weeks and they’ll be back.”

“I know.” His comforting gesture only served to bring small puddles of moisture to my lower lids.

Liam, sitting next to me, leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple. “And if you really can’t cope we can go up any weekend for a visit. Just say the word and I’ll come with you.”

I smiled. He always said that. He didn’t drive anymore but he always said he would come with me. It helped. It made me feel the distance wasn’t so great and that spending time with my daughters was only a few hours away if I needed it to be. “I’ll be okay.” I drew in a shaky breath. “It’s only the first few days that I feel delicate about it, and not having either of you there today made it doubly hard.” Liam frowned. “I’m sorry.”

I touched his cheek and stroked the soft fuzz of blond bristles on his skin. “Don’t be, it couldn’t be helped. But I realized how much I rely on you when dropping them off.”

“I’ll be there next time.”

“Only if you can make it.” I hated the look of sadness in his eyes. Liam was such a soft soul and letting me down was hard for him. “I’m sure now I’ve done it once on my own it will be easier next time.”

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“And chances are if Liam can’t make it I’ll be able to rearrange my schedule,” Quinn said.

I looked at Quinn and couldn’t help an incredulous raise of my brows. “I doubt that. It’s miles away from the hospital, plus with the new theatre manager’s shuffle of operating times you’re more tied down than ever.” He took a sip of his bottle of beer, which had sat untouched throughout the meal.

“There’s no point complaining about it anymore. It’s just how it is now. She really believes it will make the teams more productive in managing non-surgical time.”

“Is ‘she’ a surgeon?” I asked.

“No, she’s a nurse who’s climbed the ladder into management. It makes perfect sense because she’s been employed for years in theatres all over the UK, juggling staff and equipment. So of course she knows what works best.” Liam stopped chewing his spongy pudding and stared across the table at Quinn.

My hand stilled from twirling the stem of my wineglass.

“What?” He frowned and glanced between us. “She makes a lot of sense.”

“But.” I paused and studied his dark eyes. “Three weeks ago when she, and I quote,

‘swooped in and changed a finely tuned machine for the sake of change’ you were furious. The girls steered clear of you for two days and quite honestly so did I.”

“Me too,” Liam added, resuming scooping food onto his spoon.

Quinn pushed up from the table, scraping the legs of his chair on the flagstone floor. “I can change my opinion of someone.” He slotted his plate into the dishwasher with a clatter.

“For the first time ever,” Liam said.

Quinn scowled, creating a neat, vertical crease between his brows. His lips tightened and his jaw clenched.

Liam stood and shrugged, grabbing his beer and wandering to the kitchen door. He pulled it open and whistled loudly between his teeth. The dogs barged in from the 27

Lily Harlem

darkness and clambered around his legs. He meandered out of the kitchen without another word, his walk as relaxed and casual as it always was and the dogs tripping over themselves at his heels. Quinn and I were silent as sudden excited chatter trilled from the lounge TV and logs clattered into the huge grate.

Quinn leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Of course we’re shocked,” I said gently. “You never change your opinion about someone or something.” I fingered the small silver cross I wore around my neck. “And you were apoplectic with rage when you found out your theatre hours had been interfered with.”

His lips tightened further and his fingers tensed on his biceps.

“Quinn.” I stood and walked to him. “There’s no need to be so uptight, you just surprised us, that’s all.” I stopped in front of him and rested my hand on his forearm.

He’d shoved his sleeves up and the dark haze of hairs on his skin brushed down toward his heavy silver watch. I smoothed a corded tendon with my fingertips. “If you’re happy with the new arrangement now then that’s good news. I’m pleased for you.”

He sighed and twisted his mouth into a half-smile.

“I’m glad you’ve changed your mind,” I said. “It will be much easier for you to work with someone whose ideas you like.”

For a second his forehead creased into a frown and he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. Then he uncrossed his arms and gave me a proper smile. “Yeah, I’m sure it will all work out.” He dropped a kiss to the tip of my nose and stepped around me.

“I’m going to watch the soccer with Liam. You joining us?”

“Maybe in a minute.” I watched him walk past his beer and into the living room. I didn’t know why Liam bothered opening him a beer to go with his dinner. He never drank it.

I tidied away the pots and pans and gave Betsy the empty tub of cream to lick clean, wiped down the table and set a loaf of bread out for the morning.

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Sounds of the match rumbled from the lounge and I knew my chance of catching up on
Eastenders
was gone. Even so, I didn’t feel like being alone in my studio so I clicked off the kitchen lights and went into the lounge.

The fire was roaring and the dogs sprawled on the rug before it, limbs stretched and tangled around one another. A single burgundy-colored floor lamp in the corner provided buttery light and the dark wooden panels on the walls flickered with shadows from the fire. I paused at a crammed bookcase, lit an apple-scented candle to get rid of the smell of dinner and glanced at the antique mahogany grandfather clock. It was nearly nine.

“Come here, baby,” Liam said, dragging his eyes from the football and looking up at me.

I flopped next to him on the couch, pulled a small embroidered cushion from my back and dropped it on his lap. He lifted his arm and I nestled down to stare at the TV

with my hands flattened beneath my cheek. He rested his hand on my long hair and gently smoothed it over my shoulders and down my back, his fingertips delicate and caressing.

Quinn, sitting at the opposite end of the couch, reached for my ankles and hoisted them onto his thighs. His hands were warm and firm as he started to rub and soothe aches and tension from the soles of my feet.

“They’re never going to get past defense now Burton is on,” Quinn said.

“I don’t rate him,” Liam replied.

“Why? He scored in the FA cup final from the halfway line,” Quinn said in disbelief.

“Yeah, that was a fluke. I don’t know why Cardiff spent so much on him. There were others who would have made better financial sense.” Closing my eyes, I half listened to their football banter and suddenly realized how weary I was after my long day. My limbs were heavy and my emotions wrung out. I was, however, still basking in a lovely post-sex glow.

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Lily Harlem

Liam carried on lovingly stroking my hair, pausing only when Cardiff scored, and I let the heat from the fire radiate onto my cheeks and warm my skin. It was like being wrapped in a soft blanket. The weight of Quinn’s hands resting on my feet was comforting and my mind drifted. Sleep soon enveloped me.

My dreams were filled with the girls’ excited faces and the ponies’ whinnies of greeting. I replayed celebrating Quinn’s great success and was reminded of Liam’s sexy distraction therapy.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Liam whispered from above.

I opened my eyes. The TV was off and the grate held the last scarlet embers of the fire.

“I’ve got to get to work.”

I glanced down the couch. Quinn was gone.

“He went up ten minutes ago,” Liam said, shifting forward.

I sat with a yawn. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About two hours.” Liam stood and stretched out his back. He moved to the hearth and set the fire screen before the grate to stop any stray sparks bouncing onto the carpet overnight. The dogs didn’t stir and when he stepped back past them and pulled me upright I guessed he was letting them sleep indoors.

“What was the score?”

“Two nil to us. Harding scored both but Neville set one up.”

“Oh, that’s good then.” I wasn’t really interested but Liam always liked it if I acted as though I were.

“Yeah, it is, really good.” He bent and kissed me softly. “Good night, baby.” I touched his cheek and wished he weren’t going into his office. He looked tired too—he had dark circles beneath his eyes and his smile was weary.

“See you in the morning,” I said quietly before turning, blowing out the scented candle and leaving the room.

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I climbed the wide oak staircase and went into our bedroom. It was dark but I could just make out Quinn’s shape beneath the duvet of our enormous bed.

Slipping into the en suite, I quickly pulled on a soft cotton t-shirt and brushed my teeth before climbing in next to him. The sheets were cool on my bare limbs and as I sank my legs down the bed an owl hooted outside.

He lay facing the window with his back to me. I scooped in close behind him, the tops of my thighs touching the backs of his and his boxer-encased butt nestling into my stomach. He was deliciously warm.

“Hey,” I whispered, sliding my hand over his taut torso onto his arm.

“Mm,” he responded sleepily.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He paused. “Tired.”

I kissed the center of his back, right between his shoulder blades, drawing in his musky scent and the smooth texture of his skin. I’d woken up now and was in the mood for banging the headboard without worrying about keeping quiet. I delved my hand downward, searching the waistband of his boxers. When I found it I dipped inside and touched the head of his cock.

“Ariane.” He reached for my wrist. His fingers clamped around my bones and tendons and stilled my movements.

“What?” I asked, surprised by his action and the tense tone of his voice.

“I’m tired. Like, I’m totally done in.”

“Oh, okay.” I started to move my hand but he held it firm.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

I swallowed down a feeling of hurt. It was the first time Quinn had ever refused my advances. “It’s okay. I’m tired too,” I lied.

He let out a sigh and released my wrist.

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Lily Harlem

I drew my hand upward and rested it once more on his forearm. I kissed his back again and settled my cheek against his warmth.

“There’s just lots going on,” he said into the darkness.

“I know,” I murmured, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb. “Don’t worry about it, go to sleep.”

He sighed. “My head has been full of so much lately.”

“The grant?” I asked.

He was silent for a second. “Yeah, the grant.”

I sensed there was more. “What else?”

“Nothing.”

“Quinn?” I propped up on my elbow and looked down at his profile settled into the soft white pillow. “What else is bothering you?”

“Nothing,” he said again. He kept his head still and his eyes shut.

“Quinn?”

“Well, I guess I’m just thinking about the trials now. They have to go well if I want to get the next lot of funding approved.”

I rested back down and wriggled closer to his body, sought out his commitment ring with my fingertips and smoothed over it. “They will,” I said. “I’m sure they will.”

“And it always feels strange when the girls go back after the summer.” I held him a little tighter. I could empathize with that emotion very well. “I know what you mean,” I said, resting my eyes shut. The owl hooted again and I knew it would be a while before sleep claimed me.

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Chapter Three

I must have slept late, because when I pried open my eyes the bedroom was bright with daylight. I smoothed my hand over Liam’s chest and looked up at his sleeping face. His jaw was relaxed, his lips parted. His long, dark-blond lashes sat on his cheeks and his sun-kissed hair was tousled across his forehead. I stretched up and pressed my mouth to his lightly stubbled jawline.

He didn’t stir. His breathing just continued slow and steady. I had no idea what time he’d come to bed or what time Quinn had gotten up. A deep, dreamless sleep had consumed me—eventually.

I carefully untangled my legs from Liam’s and slid to the edge of the bed.

Remembering the shadows under his eyes last night, I wanted him to sleep as long as possible. He had nothing to race up for since he was working with a Taiwanese company at the moment, so was in a delayed time zone.

I padded across the cool wooden floor into the en suite and quietly shut the door.

The morning air in the farmhouse always held a chill this time of year.

Turning on the faucet to full heat, I reached for Liam’s shaving gel and a new razor.