The Best Part of Me (27 page)

“Oh, yes, that's technically true, but I'm sure Ewan would have gotten around to it, wouldn't you have, dear?”

Poor Ewan just stared as his aunt. Although Quinn would have loved to hear him say, “Of course I would have,” she knew that it wasn't going to happen.

“Mrs. McKenna,” Quinn started, saving Ewan from having to respond. “You have a really lovely yard, and I think it has a lot of potential. Do you have any ideas for what you wanted me to do?”

His aunt looked at her. “Ideas for what, dear?”

“Your landscaping?”

“Oh, right, right. Landscaping. Yes, well, you can do whatever you'd like. Just draw up a design and pop on over for tea, and we can discuss it.”

They all fell into a comfortable conversation about the pub. Sean was working tonight, along with Jenny, who Quinn was surprised to hear was seven months pregnant.

“What are your plans for replacing Jenny after she has the baby?” his uncle asked him.

“I'll schedule some interviews for part-time help. Just Friday and Saturday nights. I can take care of the other nights.”

“But dear, that won't give you hardly any free time.”

Ewan shrugged at his aunt. “If it's what needs to be done…”

“I can help,” Quinn said.

They all looked up from their plates to her.

“That's a lovely idea!”

Ewan ignored his aunt. “It's okay. You don't have to.”

“Why not? I don't mind helping while I'm in town. Just show me what to do and I'll do it.”

His dark blue eyes studied her as he chewed his food. She couldn't tell if he was upset or if he was seriously considering her offer. It would be towards the end of her stay but she honestly didn't mind helping.

“I'll think about it.” He resumed eating.

“It's kind of you to offer to help Ewan out. I'm sure he'd love to have you with him at the pub. That way when he's stuck working there, the two of you can still spend time together. It's a grand idea.”

Quinn thought so too. She'd rather work there with him than have him spend time with some random woman he'd hire. She was a familiar face to most of the townspeople by now, and she shouldn't have any trouble with picking up the responsibilities.

“I understand that you just returned from Providence? How was your trip?” Connor asked.

“It was nice. I was helping Darcy Owens on a school project. Providence seems like a nice town.”

“Oh, it is,” his aunt said. “But it can't hold a candle to Ballagh, isn't that right, Connor? Ballagh is one of the most beautiful towns in all of the United States. You've been through the Blue Hills Reservation, haven't you?

“No, I've been meaning to but haven't had a chance.”

“Heavens! You must go. It's spectacular. Ewan, what are you doing next weekend? Why not take Quinn through the park?”

Ewan pushed some green beans around on his plate before looking over at Quinn. Quinn was biting her lip, trying not to look too hopeful. But he'd noticed anyway, and the side of his mouth turned up slightly.

“Sure, I'll take you.”

His aunt tapped the table with her hand. “That'll be lovely. I'll say some extra prayers at church that you'll have nice weather. Nothing like a beautiful day for a nice romantic hike.”

“Nothing like it,” his uncle repeated, chuckling to himself.

Once the meal was finished, Quinn helped Katherine clear dishes while Ewan and his uncle remained at the table.

“The dinner was very good, Mrs. McKenna. Thanks so much for having me over.”

“You're welcome anytime, dear. And please call me Katherine. I hope to be seeing a lot more of you around here.” Quinn smiled and stole a quick glance at Ewan, who was rubbing his temples.

“Ewan, dear. I forgot to mention. You have some mail in the study. A few more letters from Belfast.”

Ewan looked up sharply at his aunt. Any playful patience that'd been left on his face was gone, replaced by stony seriousness. He nodded before pushing his chair away from the table.

“Did your uncle tell you that she called again this week?”

“Kate, not now,” his uncle said quietly.

“What? What's wrong with what I said? I'm sure Quinn knows about Clara.”

“No, she doesn't,” Ewan said sternly. “I don't talk about it.”

“Well, I don't see why—”

“Kate. Enough.” Connor stood from the table.

Just then, Ewan's cell phone rang, and with one last warning look at his aunt, he disappeared into what Quinn presumed was the study to take the call.

The awkward silence in the kitchen remained as Katherine, upset over being put in her place by her husband, viciously scraped away at the stone pot that the roast had been in.

“Maybe I can come over midweek and we can go over the plans for your back garden?”

“That would be fine, dear.” Although she smiled when she said it, Quinn could see she was angry. They continued to wash dishes in silence until Ewan came back into the room.

“I have to get back to the pub. Sean can't keep his head out of the toilet, and Jenny's back is seizing up.” Quinn remembered how much Sean had drunk the night before at Darcy's party.

“I'd offer to help you, son, but I have to head over to Cambridge tonight.”

Ewan sighed loudly, running his hand through his hair. His eyes finally fell on Quinn.

“Any chance you'd be able to help out this evening?”

Quinn looked down at what she was wearing. Her thin, sleeveless dress probably wasn't appropriate.

“Should I change?”

Ewan ran his eyes down her dress and shook his head. “Probably. But I'm not sure we have time. Jenny said the place was packed and she can barely walk.”

“Okay, let me finish these dishes real quick and I'll be ready to go.”

“You go on ahead, dear. I can finish up these last few dishes.” His aunt wiped her wet hands on a kitchen towel and gave Quinn a tight hug. “I'm so happy to have finally met you. Stop over this week and we can chat about the garden.”

Quinn had liked Katherine McKenna from the first moment she'd met her. And even though she knew that Katherine had used landscaping as a ploy to get her over to their house, she was glad that she had.

Ewan came into the kitchen and bent to give his aunt a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for dinner, Aunt Katherine.”

“You're welcome, dear.” She gently patted his cheek but stopped. “What's this on your face?”

Ewan tried to pull his aunt's hand away.

“Connor, come in here and see what this is on Ewan's face.”

Quinn moved around to the other side to get a better look at what his aunt was talking about. Although it was faint, there was a yellowish patch of swollen skin right underneath his right eye.

“Been fighting again, Ewan?” his uncle asked seriously.

Ewan sighed. “Last Thursday.”

His uncle shook his head. “When are you going to grow up and learn that you can't fight your way through life? I thought we'd talked about this and agreed that it was in your best interest to stop this bloody fighting business?”

Ewan didn't respond. He just looked at his uncle.

“Was it someone I know?”

“No.”

“Looks like they landed a nice knock to your head.”

Ewan shrugged, his mask of indifference firmly in place.

“Did it have anything to do with the Madigans?”

Ewan didn't answer, which was as good as a yes.

“You stay away from that lot and whatever it is that they are wrapped up in. Do you hear me, Ewan?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ewan's aunt looked almost green as she leaned back against the kitchen sink. The mention of the Madigans had made her face pinch up, tears ready to burst from her eyes.

Who were these Madigans and what in the world had Ewan's aunt and uncle so worried?

Quinn had slowly moved toward the door during the heated discussion. If she could have disappeared into thin air, she would have. She hadn't noticed his bruise. Hadn't had a chance to notice. It'd been dark at Darcy's party, and Quinn had been in no state to even tell if she had her shoes tied. At dinner this evening, he'd sat to her right and she couldn't get a good look.

With a final good-bye to Connor and Katherine, Quinn followed Ewan out of the house to their cars. She had about a million things to ask him, but before she could open her mouth, Ewan hopped up into his truck and slammed the door.

“See you at the pub,” was all he said through the open driver's-side window before he backed out of the drive and sped off.

Quinn was fast asleep, sitting at the end of the bar. Her legs hung motionless, not coming close to reaching the bottom rung of the high wooden barstool. Her face was buried in the crook of her arms atop the bar, hidden from view.

It was after one o'clock in the morning, and the last patrons were shuffling out the door. Ewan continued to clean up, not having the heart to wake Quinn for her help.

She'd worked hard. For never having waitressed in her life, she'd worked the pub like a pro. Hell, she'd pulled in more tips than Jenny managed to get in a weekend.

It was official. Every man, woman, and child in Ballagh was in love with Quinn Adler.

Quinn was no stranger to hard work, but what surprised him was her efficiency. She never stopped moving. As soon as someone new came in, she grabbed their drink order. Hell, she even met some people at the door and took their orders before they sat down. And when she wasn't waiting on new customers, she was circling back around to take care of refills. It wouldn't surprise him if they'd increased sales tonight by twenty-five percent, all thanks to Quinn.

He'd kept a close eye on her throughout the night. After leaving his aunt and uncle's house royally pissed off, he'd quickly jumped into work mode. Jenny had barely managed to wait until he got there before slumping into her husband's car to head home.

Sean was green. Literally green. And when he did make it out of the restroom, it was only for ten minutes at a time before he'd have to scurry back in to get sick all over again.

As soon as Ewan had seen his scheming aunt and Quinn in the back garden, he'd known dinner would amount to a complete disaster. Quinn had to have had questions about the shit she'd heard. He just didn't feel like answering them.

He'd jumped right into the rapid ebb and flow of a Saturday night at the pub. And when Quinn had eventually gotten there, he'd tossed an apron at her, rattled off what was on tap and the prices, and walked away. If he wasn't around her, she couldn't bombard him with questions.

Ewan's plan had worked perfectly. He hadn't had to answer her questions. But goddamn it, he'd had to stand behind the bar and watch every bloody man in that pub flirt shamelessly with her.

Instead of grabbing their usual seats at the bar, Scottie and Andy Bricker had taken a table and tried to monopolize Quinn's attention. Luther McCoy, Ballagh's only physician, had ordered more pints from Quinn than normal, getting completely shit faced. He'd tried to confess his newfound love for her, but between his stammering and the alcohol, he'd passed out before he could form a coherent sentence. Ewan had to prop him up by the fireplace because he kept sliding out of his chair.

A three-piece folk band had played this evening, and several men had pulled Quinn in for a quick swing around the dance floor. Joe bloody Calvin, deep in his cups, had serenaded her before getting boos from the crowd for drowning out the band and singing completely off key.

Yes, everyone who hadn't been in love with her before was definitely in love with her now.

And how could he blame them?

She had a way about her that was effortless. She made people smile just by smiling at them. And God, she was beautiful. When she moved, her slim hips would swing under her green dress. Her hair had partially come undone from her ponytail and just touched her smooth, bare shoulders but not enough to hide her long, graceful neck.

Not only had he been aroused the entire night but he was feeling so incredibly guilty about being a dick to her at the beginning of her shift. If she was bothered by it, she didn't show it. When she came behind the bar to fill her orders, she would smile and make small talk when she could.

And the fact that she could pour a perfect fucking pint without him having to tell her how was so fucking hot he'd had to excuse himself to go into the back room.

Twice. Twice he'd had to excuse himself before his patrons noticed his fucking erection.

Now as he swung the last of the chairs up off the floor and onto the table, he wondered if Quinn would rather he take her home to sleep in her own bed. She was probably pissed at him because he was a fucking moron.

But damn it, he hadn't been with her for an entire week. He ached for her.

And he needed to apologize for being a prick.

Running his hand through his hair as he approached her, Ewan made up his mind that he wasn't going to give her a choice. Bending down, he picked her up off the stool and held her against his chest. She mumbled something that he couldn't make out.

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear, carrying her toward the stairs. She dropped her head against his shoulder, nuzzling her nose against his neck.

Inside his apartment, he gently laid Quinn down on his bed and smoothed back her hair from her face. He slowly took her sandals off, noticing her feet were red from hours of work without sitting down. Pulling the covers back from underneath her sleepy body, he covered her and watched as she turned her face against his pillow.

She was mesmerizing. He stood next to her quiet form, watching her sleep. His eyes traced her face, memorizing every last detail. Her long lashes resting against her cheeks. Her parted pink lips, the perfect lines of her nose.

And as he watched her chest rise and fall with each dreamy breath, it dawned on him that he'd been lying to himself. In a perfect world, he and Quinn could be something. He would snatch her up before the rest of the world figured out that she was extraordinary. He'd keep her for himself.