The Mighty Quinns: Kellan (14 page)

“She’s over there demonstrating something…something to do with kelp?” Riley chuckled. “I find it quite amusing that she gets you so riled up. I have precious little entertainment here in Ballykirk, but you’ve been providing more than enough these past couple of weeks.”

“How would you feel if Nan went about telling everyone she’d once been a seal?”

Riley thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. “I see your point. But, hell, if it sold more Guinness at the pub, I’d be all for it. Who cares what a bunch of tourists believe? And I hear that business is booming at Maeve’s and she’s only been working there a week. Five customers yesterday. That’s more than Maeve used to have in a month.”

“Well, the ladies’ guild isn’t a bunch of tourists.” Kellan pushed away from the bar and walked back outside, then headed toward the church, all the while thinking about what he was going to say to her. She’d told him the truth a week ago. He knew where she was from and how she grew up. He’d just assumed that the mermaid stories were finally going to stop, at least to the locals.

The ladies were gathered in the meeting room of the church. Kellan threw open the doors only to be greeted by surprised silence and twenty or thirty pairs of inquisitive eyes.

“Perfect!” Gelsey said. “You’re right on time.” She hurried up to Kellan and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room. “Now, ladies, as I was saying, all these products work just as well on men as they do on women. Many of your men are exposed to the elements every day in their work world and the skin can become wrinkled and leathery. It’s no good walking around town with a man who looks as if he’s twice your age, right?”

This brought a chorus of approval from the women. Gelsey shoved Kellan into a chair. “What are you doing here?” he murmured.

“A product demonstration,” she whispered. “If they won’t come to the shop, then the shop will go to them.” She turned back to the audience. “Now, the first thing we’ll begin with is this sea-salt exfoliator. We just apply this all over the face, with gentle fingers, avoiding the eyes, nostrils and mouth, of course.” She looked down at Kellan. “Tip your head back. You’ll like this.”

“You’re not going to put that on my face,” he muttered.

“Of course, Kellan, being the typical male, will probably resist. But it’s your job, ladies, to make this a pleasant experience. Put on some soft music, maybe dress a bit provocatively. And get close. Get very close.” She stepped over his lap, her legs on either side of his.

“You’ll like this,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Reluctantly, Kellan closed his eyes. Slowly, she began to massage the gritty cream into his face, her fingers dancing over his skin and smoothing across his forehead. After only a few seconds, he found himself relaxing, enjoying the touch of her hands.

“This really can be quite sensual, ladies. So, I’d suggest that you reserve this treatment for a time when the two of you can truly appreciate all the benefits.”

Kellan tried to keep his pulse from racing, but it was no use. Thankfully, the front of his jacket would cover any unexpected reaction, although from the way Gelsey was talking, that’s exactly what she was looking for.

“Now, I have some lovely samples for all of you in these little gift bags and I want you all to try them on yourself and on your man. I’ve also included a sprig of mistletoe. I’m sure you know what to do with that. Remember, all our products are one hundred percent natural. No artificial colors or scents.”

Kellan tried to look at her, but a tiny bit of salt dropped off his lashes, burning his eye. “Gels,” he murmured. “I think it’s time to get this off.” But from what he could hear, Gelsey had wandered off to talk to some of her potential customers and forgotten all about him. Kellan got to his feet and blindly searched for a towel to wipe his face. He banged into a table, then nearly tripped over a chair before he felt Gelsey’s hand on his arm.

“Come on, then,” she said. “Sit down and I’ll finish your treatment.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned. “You’re not going to seduce me in the parish meeting room.”

“I meant your facial treatment. It doesn’t always have to come with sex, you know.” She gently wiped the salt mixture from his face and he opened his eyes. “There you are,” she murmured. “Handsome as ever.” She bent closer and brushed a kiss across his lips.

Kellan slipped his arms around her waist. “Did you really need to put that stuff on my face?”

“I’m selling product,” she said. “If I’m going to take over Maeve’s store, I’m going to need to get out and stir up some business, especially from the ladies in the area. Regular customers are important. I’ve already lined up a presentation with the ladies’ group over in Glengarriff. Mrs. Murphy’s sister is on the program committee and they’re always looking for speakers. It would help if you’d come with me.”

“You don’t need me,” he said. “I saw how you were with the ladies. You’re good at this, Gelsey. People like you.”

“You really think so? You think I’m good?”

Kellan nodded. The simple compliment brought a beautiful joy to her face. That’s all it took for him, he thought. As long as she was happy, so was he. Simple, but now he was beginning to understand her approach to life. Dwelling in the past only made the present miserable. She’d forgotten their argument minutes after it had happened and hadn’t brought it up since.

“I’m not sure what my schedule is going to be like after the first of the year,” he said. “I’ve got to go back to work soon.”

“Where?”

“We bid on a museum project in France. In Brittany. I’m not sure we’re going to get it and—”

“You’re going to France? For how long?”

“We don’t have the job yet,” Kellan said. In truth, he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore. Gelsey was here, in Ballykirk. And her plans to buy Maeve’s shop would keep her here. France was a long way from Ireland.

He’d been thinking a lot about business. He had some savings and contacts with good investors. Maybe it was time to take that risk, to put his own cash behind a project and reap the profits. After all, Gelsey was used to a comfortable lifestyle. And he couldn’t really offer her as much doing just design and engineering on a project. He needed to make some real money.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It will work itself out.” But as he reassured her, Kellan knew that it wouldn’t be so simple. He’d become accustomed to coming and going as he pleased, without a thought to anyone else’s feelings. If he and Gelsey were together, then all of that would change. His whole life would change.

He watched as Gelsey packed her boxes and collected her papers. Already, he could see the changes in her. She was confident, so different from the nervous woman he’d sent off to her first day at work just a week ago. In truth, she seemed completely in her element.

“Can I buy you lunch?” he asked.

“I’m going to buy you lunch,” she said, waving a stack of cards at him. “I made over a hundred pounds in sales today.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“No, I want to. Maeve gave me an advance on my pay and I have just enough to buy you lunch. She’s been very pleased with my work. That’s important. I’m not sure she’d sell to someone who wasn’t passionate about the business.”

Kellan helped her carry the boxes out to the battered Fiat. “You’re going to have to get yourself a better car,” he said.

“I know. I’ve never had a car of my own. But there is a car at Winterhill. I’m not sure it runs anymore. It belonged to my grandmother.”

“You could get it fixed,” he said. “I could help you out with that.”

Gelsey opened the back hatch of the Fiat and put the box she carried inside. Kellan dropped his box next to the first and shut the hatch. But the catch didn’t always work and it took three tries before the hatch stayed closed. “Yeah, you definitely need a better car.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Have I told you what a good man you are?”

“I believe you have,” Kellan said. “Usually in bed. I think this might be the first time outside the bedroom.”

“I’ve never said that in the bedroom.”

“Not in those exact words,” he said.

“What words did I use?”

“Little words,” Kellan teased. “Like…
oh
and…
yes.
And then sometimes you say my name over and over. I may be wrong, but I assumed you were telling me I was a good man.”

Gelsey laughed. “You assumed right. But I think I need to say it out loud more often.” She tipped her face up to the sun. “Kellan Quinn is a very good man,” she shouted.

“He’s a feckin’ gobshite.”

The voice came from the direction of Danny’s smithy and Kellan shrugged. “I guess we have other opinions on the subject.”

“That’s because they’ve never spent a night in bed with you,” Gelsey replied.

“Actually, my brothers and I used to share a bed when we were little.”

“You know what I mean,” Gelsey said.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

THE LATE-AFTERNOON SUN shone through the plate-glass windows of Maeve Dunphrey’s shop, illuminating dust motes with every movement that Gelsey made. She pushed up on her tiptoes to grab a box from the top shelf of the old wooden wall displays, then carefully made her way down the wobbly ladder.

“Some of this stuff has to be forty years old,” she said, setting the box on the counter in front of her. “I suppose we should try to salvage some of these jars. They’re so pretty and, technically, they are vintage.”

Jordan walked over and pulled a jar of lavender-scented lotion from the box. She screwed off the top and gave in a sniff before wrinkling her nose. “Yeah, this is pretty far gone. But the jar is lovely.”

“I can go see if they have an old bucket at the Hound,” Nan offered. “We can dump the stuff in there and then put the jars through the pub’s dishwasher.”

Gelsey nodded, grateful for the help that Nan and Jordan had offered. She’d spent a fair bit of her first week of work just cleaning, going through boxes and crates, discarding old inventory and taking stock of what was available in the store. When Nan and Jordan had stopped by a few days ago, they’d offered to help and had returned every afternoon since, making the job much more pleasant.

Nan stood in the center of the sales floor, her hands hitched on her waist, and surveyed the nearly tidy shop. “It’s actually starting to look good,” she said. “All these old wooden cases look beautiful, once you can see them.”

“Thank you so much for helping out,” Gelsey said. “You girls really didn’t need to do this.”

“You helped paint my house,” Nan said.

“And hopefully, you’ll be around when I have some tedious chore to do,” Jordan added. “Are you really thinking of buying this place?”

Gelsey nodded. “Yes. I think I could make a success of it. There’s a little shop like this on the Rue des Arts in Paris and women flock to it. They send their empty jars from all over the world to get them refilled. I bought night cream from them all the time, even when I was living in Portugal with Antonio.”

Nan and Jordan glanced at each other. “You lived in Portugal?”

Gelsey blinked, surprised that she had been so honest with them. Over the past few days, they’d become good friends and she hadn’t thought to continue the pretense. And now, in a single unguarded moment, she’d given it all away. “That was a lifetime ago.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s beautiful there. Very…sunny. Much like Spain. I lived there for a time, too.”

Nan glanced at Jordan again, then looked back at Gelsey. “We know about Portugal. And Antonio. We’ve sort of known the truth from early on.”

“You did?”

Jordan walked over to the counter and retrieved her purse then rummaged through it. A few moments later, she pulled out a magazine clipping and handed it to Gelsey. “I came across that while I was waiting to get my hair cut in Glengarriff. It’s from
Hello!
magazine from a year ago.”

The picture wasn’t one of her best, Gelsey thought as she examined it closely. She was wearing a designer dress that barely covered her ass, an ass that was quite visible in the photo. A champagne bottle dangled from one hand and a cigarette from the other. “I was so drunk, I don’t remember anyone taking this photo,” she murmured, handing it back to Jordan. “It doesn’t even look like me.”

“You’re Gigi Woodson,” Nan said.

“I
was
Gigi Woodson.”

Jordan crumpled up the clipping and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin. “Does Kellan know?”

Gelsey winced. “No. But I’m pretty sure he’s about to find out.”

“We’re not going to say a word,” Jordan said. “We promise.”

“If you know about Antonio, then I’m sure you know about the incident with the Italian photographer?”

Nan shook her head. “No. And you don’t have to tell us. We really don’t need to know.”

“Thank you,” Gelsey said. “I suppose I should be glad I managed to get away with it for this long. I assumed someone would recognize me sooner or later.” She raked her hand through her hair, then forced a smile. “I guess I haven’t changed all that much.”

“You look completely different,” Jordan disagreed.