Fifteen
Something about early morning walks always made Quinn feel ready to take on the world. It began in his rugby days when he had no choice but to wake up at the crack of dawn and get to practice, taking shortcuts through the woods by his house. He always used those thirty or so minutes to mentally prepare for the long hours ahead, think about what he would accomplish, how he’d slog through the day’s rucks without penalty.
After driving around aimlessly last night, wallowing in his shock and sadness, he decided to end the night early and get to bed before midnight for the first time in weeks. But now, the deep purple and tangerine skies in the east rose over the sleepy valley, calling to him. Having no purpose for the day, aimless in his plans, Quinn thought it a good idea to get out of his cozy room at the BB and find one. After all, he and Con only had two more days before they were supposed to either head back to Ireland or call for their brothers to bring Mam’s ashes with them.
Forgoing his rental car, he threw on his jacket and went off on foot, sneaking out before Lilly could see him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her. It was that he just needed some space, time alone to think about the news she’d delivered last night.
Her father had been his mother’s boyfriend—fiancé, to be exact—a man from a prominent wine family in this region. Yes, he could understand Lilly’s mam being resentful that Maggie Phillips had almost cost her her husband, but the fact was, things had worked out in the end.
Before too long, Quinn’s morning stroll took him to the path that led to the bridge. Though he’d explored many areas, taken photos, and hung out at Paul’s tavern quite a bit since he’d been in town, the bridge was definitely one of his favorite places. The sun was already out but would soon be shrouded in darkness again. Rain was on its way, and here he’d gone out without an umbrella.
Oh, well. It’s just water.
He climbed the hill, headed toward the bridge, and made it onto the wooden planks over the river below. Slowly, he took a seat and, just like he and Lilly and his mother before them had, let his legs dangle over the edge.
His mind played back images of the past five days. Everything he’d experienced, mostly with Lilly. Everything he’d learned about his mam.
According to Lilly, this bridge had been one of her father’s favorite spots, and in all likelihood that was because he’d come here with Quinn’s mam. If that was the case, then obviously Mam had cared enough about Ken Parker to take him to a place that was special to her even if she had chosen another man in the end. It was the way of the world. Feelings were fickle. Hearts were broken all the time, and most often not intentionally. Hell, in some ways, Quinn could be viewed as the Ken in this whole messy situation with Lilly; he was the man she cared about but ultimately needed to leave behind in order to fulfill her dreams. Did that mean that some time in the future, when Quinn found another woman to love, one he ultimately chose to have a family with, that he wouldn’t be able to give that woman his whole heart, because some part of it would always belong to Lilly? Would he, just like Ken, come back to this bridge again and again to reflect on what could have been?
He swiped his hands over his face. Gah, he was driving himself crazy with all these thoughts. Sitting there, thinking about it all, storm clouds rolling in, Quinn thought, Let it rain.Right on me. It wasn’t like he had any place to go, and his mind could use a good cleansing. When it was done, he’d get back on track. Finish seeing the rest of Green Valley through his mam’s eyes. Then he’d call his brothers and tell them what he’d known to be true from the beginning.
They needed to spread Mam’s ashes here. It was what she would have wanted.
He’d just gotten to his feet when he heard gravel moving, and an engine shutting off. When he craned his head back, he saw someone had arrived to invade his private space. “Hullo?”
Moments later, pretty legs in a jean skirt came around the corner. Legs he loved and rarely got to see, since she was usually wearing jeans.
“Thought I might find you here.” Beautiful, radiant, gorgeous with her golden hair back in a messy knot. She looked like she’d just plucked off her apron and decided to go for a stroll as well.
“Lilly,” he said, his heart and brain cells taking flight upon seeing her. “You found my secret spot.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Her smile was mischievous and peace-imparting. “My town is full of secret spots.”
“Well, you’ll have to show me a few of them.” He smiled back, but then it dampened when he thought about how she wouldn’t be here much longer, and he may not be either. She may never show him all of Green Valley’s secrets, and the thought depressed the shit out of him.
She crossed her legs and sat next to him, holding onto the ropes. “It’s about to rain,” she said, glancing up at the darkening skies. “Are you okay?”
Stomach a ball of jumbled nerves, he slid his hand over the planks and risked taking her hand. Her fingers intertwined with his. “As good as I can be given our argument last night. I’m sorry for that. It was a surprise, what you told me, and I’ve been struggling with it. Struggling with the knowledge that many in this area, the area where I believe we should spread her ashes, consider my mam to be a pariah.”
She caressed his fingers, the warm touch sending shivers though his body. “Not everyone. Just a few select people who are hurting. And quite frankly, who need to get over it.”
Startled, he laughed. “Is that so?”
“It is. And I’m sorry if I communicated a different message last night.”
“It’s okay. Communication has been a bit of an issue for us all along, hasn’t it?”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was a bastard for implying nothing was meant to happen between us because we haven’t made it happen. Love’s more complicated than that.”
“We’re in love?” she said softly, raising an eyebrow.
He drew in his legs and swiveled to face her bright blue eyes. “Aren’t we?”
Lil blinked then turned away, blinking some more, trying to hide, Quinn realized, the fact that tears had filled her eyes. Reaching out, Quinn cupped her chin and turned her head until she was looking at him.
“I know nothing’s changed between us. That we’re still walking on separate roads. That we’ve only known each other a week. But this is me, Lil, walking my own path but looking at you and telling you, I love you. And no matter what happens, I’ll never regret it.”
The tears in her eyes brimmed over.
“I love you, too, Quinn. No matter what.”
They didn’t kiss, they didn’t move, they barely even breathed, not wanting to disrupt the power in the words they’d exchanged. An eternity seemed to pass while they looked into each other’s eyes. Finally, the clouds overhead moved in with the wind, making strands of Lillian’s hair dance in the breeze around her face, and she blinked. Quinn stroked his fingers along her jawline, and she closed her eyes to soak in his touch. The first few drops of rain were cold but seemed to shock them out of the solemnity of the moment. They both laughed and jumped to their feet.
Quinn was about to run back to the car, but Lilly grabbed his hand and ran in the opposite direction just as the sky opened, and the rain began to pour. “Where we going?” he cried.
“You wanted secrets, right?” she yelled, tugging him along, running down the footpath into a thicket of trees and around a bend. Hidden in the woods was an old shed, nothing out of this world, just a worn, faded red wooden structure. She tugged at the side door, and it easily gave way, banging against the side from her adrenaline rush.
The inside smelled musty, of old ropes and sawdust, both scents that Quinn loved. They reminded him of his grandfather’s boat shed back in Killiney with the views of Bray Head and the Great Sugar Loaf. He shook off the rain from his jacket and hair, stumbling over an old barrel oak against the siding. “Fancy meeting you here. Come here often?”
Lilly laughed and stumbled with him, falling against his warm body into a pile of sandbags. “No,” she spoke in a deliberate teasing tone. “But I have a feeling if things go as I suspect, this just might become one of my new favorite secret spots.” Her warm breaths puffed against his cheek, and suddenly, without any thought or expectation, they were kissing like it was what they were meant to do all along.
Feck rules, feck boundaries and consequences. Sometimes life just threw lemons at you, and you had to know what to do with them—make lemon meringue pie. Quinn pressed his lips against her hard, drinking in her moist soft mouth. His body ached, focused on the moment she’d hinted she wanted to come, and he couldn’t wait to get her there. Their arms worked in effortless motions to slide off jackets and shirts, while his fingers slid beneath her bra straps, and his lips sucked up inches of her skin along her neck and collarbone, working their way down. She pressed one hand to her bra, keeping the cups close to her heaving chest.
Don’t rush, slow down, mate, his heart shouted to himself, but his groin was giving all the orders now. When his lips reached the upper curves of her tits, she released her loose bra. Quinn marveled at the deep blush around her nipple. He brought his lips up close, but paused barely a hair’s width away. He exhaled slow with his warm breath, waiting for just that right moment when the chasm between tease and torment collided.
She moaned when his mouth finally closed over one nipple, and he sucked, feeling the ridges of her areola harden over his tongue. Her hands guided his head, her fingers slid back and forth through his hair, as one of his hands found its way into the back of her skirt to cup her ass, and the other lifted her breast higher to his mouth. Suddenly, it dawned on him why she’d worn a skirt, and he laughed deep within his chest. No panties. Her intentions were clear, all barriers removed. He dragged his hand from her smooth ass, gliding his fingers between her cheeks, closer to her wet lower lips, running two fingers across them. Her head fell backward, and her body gave in.
Rolling her over, laying her back against the sandbags, he sat up and gazed at the wonder before him. Her beauty was amplified by the pummeling of the rain on the thin structure. Her shimmering eyes stared back at him, wanting, needing him.
Her knees spread like a flower blossoming, but it was her sapphire eyes beaming up at him, her chest heaving with anticipation that made him want her like nothing he’d ever known. Reaching up the length of her legs, his fingertips caressed her creamy skin from her thighs to her ankles.
“What are you going to do?” she panted through a quivering smile.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” His fingers traced back up her thighs.
“I think…” She pulled her skirt up slowly, taking her time to reveal what would surely drive him mad any minute now. “You’re going…to discover more deep secrets,” she finished.
“I would surely love that, with your permission, mademoiselle,” he said.
When she finished pulling her skirt up all the way, spreading her legs wide, she said, “Permission granted, kind sir.”
He recorded the moment in his mind to recall in quieter times—and then, he went down. Everything else was a blur from there on, a whirlwind of memories that would last him many a year to come. From his lips descending on her glistening core, licking, pushing, guiding her to the edge, to the moment she surprised him yet again by flipping around and pushing her ass upwards, inviting him to enter her, to the moment he lamented not having a condom, and she threw caution to the wind and said she didn’t care, because she was on the pill anyway, to the blissful moment when he pushed down his jeans, released himself, firm and ready, then plunged into her wet warmth—desperate bodies clinging to one another.
“Oh, Quinn,” she cried, meeting his every thrust into her with a back-push of her own, working herself into a frenzy while bent over, pressing down against his body to get an extra push. She reached between her legs, her fingertips lightly grazing his balls, gently caressing them, then her fingers moved to her own sweet spot, flicking and rubbing to his every thrust.
He needed to look away in order to keep up, to wait until she got to that blessed moment before him, so that he wouldn’t explode before she did.
“Quinn…look at me. Look at me, baby…” she urged.
God, that was it. Especially when she called him baby. He felt her muscles contracting around him, felt the gush of warmth around his body. He let go and burst in powerful spasms. And then they fell in a gasping, sweaty heap on the sandbags. Only then did he register the chilled air inside of the shed. Lilly shivered, though from cold or happiness, he wasn’t sure, but he reached for his jacket and covered her shoulders with it.
A renewed warmth permeated him. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear, pleased how natural it felt to say it now.
Through closed eyes, a smile materialized on her face. Slowly, she turned and laced her arms over his shoulders, planting a soft kiss on his lips. She smelled of sweat, love, and sweetness. “I love you, too,” she said. Her eyes brightened and shone as blue as the Pacific. “No matter what. But…”
He frowned. “But?”
“But you were wrong. About being a bastard for implying if something was meant to happen between us, we’d make it happen. About saying love’s more complicated than that. You were right, Quinn, the first time. Your mom didn’t let fate or circumstance dictate who she loved. She made a choice, and we can make a choice, too. I choose you. If you choose me, it’s just a matter of making it work.”
He stared at her, awed by what she was saying. What she was offering.
So he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with his life. So it would be hard to see Lilly leave soon. So they’d have to work around a long-distance relationship. So fucking what? There were harder things in life. He’d waited this long for the right woman to come along. What was another six months?
“I choose you, Lil. I choose us.”
Once the rain died down, they emerged from the shed and slipped into Lil’s car. In contented silence, they drove along the main road, and just as he was thinking how unpredictable his life had become in the last few weeks, she make a sharp left turn down a tree-lined road and passed a sign that read: Phillips Vineyard Winery.
“Er…where are we going?” He raised an eyebrow and felt the sudden drop in his stomach. “I’m not sure I want to go in there, and I thought you said you’d never set foot here.”
She glanced at him with a smile. “Don’t worry, Quinn. It’s alright. Trust me.”
He did trust her—that was the problem. He trusted her so much, she had full control of his emotions right now, and he didn’t care to do anything about it. His mam once told him that he’d know when the right woman came along, because she’d control his destiny and lead him to greatness. Considering he hadn’t had the balls to come around this plot of land yet, no matter how many times he’d looked at it on his phone’s map, here was Lilly Parker, going against everything she’s ever known about the Phillipses, driving up the main path, bringing Quinn—like it or not—straight to his family’s door.
And he let her.
They stood before a massive white house in the foreground of sprawling fields of rows and rows, as far as Quinn’s eye could see. Definitely a different vibe than standing in front of Parker House. This was an expansive estate, one that made Quinn’s lungs stop breathing for almost a whole minute. As they walked up to the main entrance, Quinn handed Lilly his mother’s journal. “Would you mind holding this for me, please?”
She scoffed playfully. “Men,” she said, shaking her head and taking the journal from his hands. “The same around the world. Does this mean you trust me not to take a quick peek now?”
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “It means I trust you with everything I am, Lilly. If you want to read Mam’s journal, go right ahead. I’m happy to share it with you, knowing Mam would have loved you as much as I do.”
Oh wow. Talk about Irish charm. And it wasn’t even an act. It was just a part of who Quinn was.
In the foyer, they stared at the magazine-like surroundings—arched ceiling with cherry wood beams, white walls covered in photos of wine bottles, clumps of grapes, and the people who have worked here for ages.
Quinn peered into a black-and-white photo of two young women standing with an older lady and gentleman, the same one as in the photos in Mam’s storage box—Old Man Phillips. Next to the photo was a bright colored photo of the same people, only the older woman was missing. His grandmother, Quinn assumed. She was a beautiful brunette with perfect 70’s hair and a tailored women’s suit. Her smile was a lot like Conor’s and made Quinn want to go rip his brother from his bed to bring him here for a look.
“Good morning, welcome to Phillips Vineyard and Winery,” a young female voice rang through the space. In a white skirt, pleated purple top, and short jean jacket, she was the picture of California casual. An air of familiarity surrounded her visage. Quinn figured she might possibly be a distant cousin. “Are you here for the Harvest Brunch?” She motioned for them to enter.
Lilly followed her deeper into the enemy’s lair. “No, we have an appointment with Suzanne. Should we wait in the foyer?”
“Oh no, just come with me,” the woman said brightly, but then her face contorted into one of slight confusion. “Wait, are you…Lilly Parker?”
“Yes, hi.” Lilly smiled and looked to Quinn for silent solace.
“Oh, wow! I’ve heard so much about you, but we’ve never actually met. Is it true you’re going to be on the Food Network working with Guy Santoli?”
Lilly nodded, pausing to look at an enclosed case of a selection of wines. “All true. I leave in about two weeks.”
“Well, good luck! I’m totally jealous and so happy to finally meet you. I’ll let Suzanne know you’re here. Give me a minute.”
“No problem,” Lilly said, giving Quinn a satisfied smile.
“Why are we here?” Quinn asked. “You want to get me excommunicated, don’t you?”
“No, I want to get you in-communicated. Quinn, don’t be mad. Suzanne knows you’re coming. We already spoke, yesterday.”
From around the corner, a woman paused in the glass hallway, letting rays of sunlight pour all over her. Quinn’s heart picked up speed. He was about to meet a relative—his aunt, a woman he hadn’t even known existed only recently. “Jesus, Joseph, Mary…she looks like my mam.”
The woman crept closer, her eyes fixated on Quinn. She had a look of absolute elation and relief on her face, as her hands crossed over her heart. “Dear God…you are the spitting image of your father,” she said.
Quinn wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing, considering his father was responsible for leading innocent Maggie Phillips away, but from the smile of astonishment on her face, he gathered it was a good thing. “Are you…my mam’s sissy?”
She reached Quinn, smiled at Lilly, then went back to examining Quinn’s facial features, as though he were a sculpture made of clay. “I am. Suzanne Phillips, I’m so pleased to meet you. Walk this way, please.”
A bit cordial for a family member, thought Quinn, watching the woman turn on a dime and head back down the hallway. He exchanged side glances with Lilly, who suddenly seemed nervous, terrified, and nauseous all rolled into one.
The view of the courtyard was splendid, with white tents set up with Chinese paper lanterns, a busy staff preparing the long tables underneath, and a fairly large staff bustling about, preparing for an outdoor event. As they strolled through the beautiful house, Quinn hoped no one would recognize him, talk shit behind his back, or worse—throw him out. He hadn’t even had the chance to shower, shave, and look presentable.
It wasn’t until they entered a spacious office with an amazing view of the vineyard, did Suzanne close the door, whirl around, tears spilling over lashes, and fall into Quinn’s surprised arms. “Dear, sweet Maggie’s boy,” she said, clinging to his shoulders, shaking and wracked with sobs. “You’ve come home.”