Twelve
Much later, even after their bonfire dinner was over, Con still wasn’t ready to leave. In his meditative state, he wanted to stay out all night, staring at the ocean, so Quinn took the blankets, wrapped one around his brother, wadded another one into a pillow for him, and threw some more kindling into the fire to keep him warm. “Call me if you need anything, maggot.”
Lilly agreed to leave her car with Con, in case he needed it. Then she and Quinn walked down the road to the rented cottage on the cliff.
Checking into a small room facing the ocean, Lilly thanked her lucky stars for knowing other proprietors of bed-and-breakfasts in the area. She’d always wanted to stay here at the Whispering Winn, and the first thing she did was open up the wooden shutters facing the black of night and water. A cold wind blew in, prompting Quinn to start a fire in the fireplace, and before long, they were wrapped up on a rug before it.
Lilly would have been fine with sharing the room with Con and Quinn, with the three of them falling asleep, no hanky panky, no nothing, just three people sharing a room overnight, but now that they were alone, the night became all the more magical. Maybe it was because of their near-argument back on the beach, because stress was piling on them, or because they both seemed to be feeling the effects of the ticking clock, but Quinn was hell-bent on focusing on her.
Drawing her in.
Tasting her, feeling her.
She knew he wanted to explore everything her body and mind had to offer before he no longer had it. Laying on her back, she watched him slide down the length of her torso, kissing every inch of her, even breathing in the scent of her bonfire smoke-tinged skin. She knew where he was headed, and she did nothing to stop him.
Ben rarely went down on her, and even when he had, he hadn’t known what to do when he was there, only licking her with the same rhythm over and over, as if that was all it would take. But Quinn relished the gifts her body had to offer, made himself at home between her legs, inhaled her scent, varied his movements, some fast, some slow, dark eyes glancing up at her every so often, so he could gauge what she responded to, what she liked, and what he still had to do to get her there.
He used his fingers, achingly slow at first, then faster while changing the degrees of intensity in the way he licked her, devouring her like a starving man presented with some rare fruit until the sensations built slowly, and her legs tightened. He never gave up until he’d brought her to that pinnacle, and even after she came in rolling waves more powerful than the ones outside the open window, he stayed there, softly kissing her and laying his head against her thigh.
She could have drifted into sleep for the rest of the night, but she wanted him to feel good too. “What can I do for you?” she asked sleepily, groggily, in a foggy stupor of happiness.
He crawled up between her legs and kissed her softly. “You’ve already done enough.”
As sweet as he was, as much as she knew he would have given up a chance to orgasm just so she could fall away in peaceful slumber, she retrieved a condom and slid it on him. Then she wrapped her legs around him and drew him in, using her hands to pull his hips into her. She let him slide into her, love her, pound her, fast and strong, so he could finish on the hardest, highest note possible, and right when she gave him a smile—a sincere, I can’t believe you’re real smile—he lost it and came.
And that’s when it happened. Undeniably. Unequivocally. It didn’t matter that they’d only known each other a few days. It didn’t matter that she’d fought it or that they’d soon be parting.
She fell in love with Quinn O’Neill.
Lilly had loved before, but not like this. It scared her suddenly, the fear snaking around her like the Pacific wind filtering in through the windows, but luckily, Quinn was there, arms enveloping her, protecting her in his warm cocoon of reassurance and peace, and before she could have any more thoughts, she fell asleep.
Lilly got to sleep with Quinn all night long, and for a girl who hadn’t slept all night with a man in several years, that was nice. The night was everything it should be—sexy, loving, peaceful, and had made her feel safe and happy.
In the morning, she awoke on her side, Quinn holding her from behind, still asleep. Soon, he woke himself, kissed her and scratched her back lightly, but they didn’t make love again. Though it would have been perfectly fine with her, it was nice to know they could be near each other without needing sex again. It was reaffirming to know that they simply had a bond and common interests, and their quiet time didn’t need to be filled with moans and groans every chance they got. It showed her that Quinn didn’t have a one-track mind either, that he could be perfectly happy lying next to her under the thick blanket, spooning his warm body against hers. And it showed her that she didn’t have a one-track mind either. After his painful comment about latching onto the first guy who came along Green Valley, she spent the better part of their bonfire last night wondering if he was right, if her attraction to Quinn O’Neill was simply because she needed closeness.
But what would happen down the line—let’s say if we got together? Once closeness wasn’t a pressing need anymore, would we still have enough in common? It was hard to tell. She hadn’t known him long enough and wouldn’t get the chance to either.
Unless they kept a long-distance relationship.
It could happen. Her best friend, Corinne, who moved to Seattle three years ago kept a long-distance relationship going with her now-husband, Jay, and it worked perfectly fine for them. It hadn’t been easy, but it was doable.
The thought kept playing in Lilly’s mind even as they dressed, went out to find Con, who had indeed slept all night on the beach, had a light breakfast, then packed up. Once behind the wheel of her car and on the road back to Forestville, however, what was doable in Lilly’s mind had changed a million times over.
What am I doing, entertaining a long-distance relationship? Way to stick with a plan, Lil. She shook her head, arguing with herself the whole drive back to Forestville, while Quinn gazed out the window at wine country, and Con slept in the back. And right when she thought Quinn was doing a fabulous job of keeping his distance again, his hand slid over the center console and scratched her thigh with a pinky nail.
Lilly side-glanced him, and he smiled, stretching out his hand. She let one hand off the steering wheel and slipped it into his. No, he may not be her boyfriend, he might not love her the way she loved him, he might not be torturing himself with possibilities including one in which they tried to make things work despite the miles that would separate them, but he was a damned nice guy who cared about her, and that alone was a good thing.
Later, even as Lillian got back to work at the Russian River House kitchen, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, the desperation she’d felt when they’d made love, the way Quinn seemed to have attempted consuming and possessing her as much as he could in the time they had together. She had captured the moment too, internalizing the color of his skin, the lines dimpling his cheeks, the sound of his groans when it all became too much for him.
In the middle of a killer set of banana walnut muffins she was baking and another of blueberry lemon poppy seed, she paused, zester in right hand, as fresh lemon oil from a huge Meyer’s lemon misted into her nose. She heard her mother arriving through the side door, interrupting her reverie, talking on the phone, then ending the call, as she reached the kitchen.
“Okay…yeah, no kidding. Okay…thanks for telling me, Ave.” Mom shoved the phone back in her purse and strolled into the kitchen to survey how things were going. Mellie and Cook had taken off for lunch, and for once, Lilly didn’t go with them. Having spent yesterday and this morning on the California coast in Jenner, she was behind now and needed to catch up.
“What’s Avery saying?” Lilly asked, nervous about where such a question would lead. It wasn’t that she loved instigating or perpetuating gossip, but this time, she was afraid it was about her.
Her mother leaned back on the counter, as Lilly continued peeling off thin strips of fragrant lemon skin to throw into the batter, giving her muffins that added boost that pushed them over the edge.
“Do you have something you want to tell me?” her mom asked.
Lilly’s veins turned to ice. Her hand shook slightly. She would never get over feeling like a little girl around her mother and supposed that, even when she turned forty years old, Mom would have the ability to make her quake in her boots. “What do you mean?” Lilly replied.
Sighing, Mom began taking bowls and measuring cups and placing them into the sink. God forbid she just relax for one second. “What I mean is, something is going on with you, and you haven’t told me, told anyone.”
Lilly swallowed the lump in her throat and kept her eyes down. Realizing that doing so might give the impression that she was guilty of something, she switched to an easy smile and shrug instead. “Actually, I was going to tell you today.” She could hear her voice shaking slightly. Folding in the last of the zest and incorporating it all into one, delicious batter, Lilly scraped off the edge of her spatula and set it down on the counter.
She faced her mom, hands inside her apron’s pockets. “Mom, I got great news a few days ago…” Registering her mother’s confused look and head tilt, Lilly figured she ought to make this quick and easy—like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I entered a baking contest on the Food Network, totally as a fluke, thinking it wouldn’t amount to anything, but after several rounds and interviews, turns out…” She slapped her arms against her sides and gave it all she got. “They picked me!” She grinned sheepishly. “I won an internship with Guy Santoli of L’Appetite Boulange.”
Mom’s face went blank, almost as if she didn’t believe her. “You what?” she muttered, blue eyes disappearing into a confused grimace.
Okay, this is not going well.
“I won an internship. With one of the best pastry chefs in the country. I start in two-and-a half weeks. I’m going to be living in Miami for six months. So…we should probably start looking for someone to make the muffins while I’m gone.”
Silence. Nothing from Penny Parker. For at least a minute. Lilly thought she would collapse, wished she could start over, this time mention what a great opportunity this is.
“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping that from me…for how long?” her mom said in a flat tone.
Lilly’s hands shook. The pitch in her voice was higher. Be assertive…this is your life, she could hear Quinn cheering her on. “I’ve known since Saturday. It wasn’t like I wasn’t going to tell you, it’s just that I’ve been deciding whether I want to go or not.” Total lie, but at least it would excuse her silence. Though Lilly did feel guilty that at least three people knew about her good news before her mother did. “How did you find out?”
“I didn’t,” Mom said, and Lilly’s stomach sank into her toes. “I had no idea of this. It wasn’t even what I was talking about.”
Lilly groaned. If that wasn’t what her mother was alluding to, then what the hell had she been talking about? Her heart pounded against her ribcage, as she considered all the possible acts of defiance that her mother might be upset over. Then, a light turned on inside her brain. “Oh.”
That.
“I was talking about the fact that everyone’s seen you with Quinn O’Neill.”
“Everyone? Who’s everyone, Mom?”
“Beverly saw you two driving down St. John’s Road. What were you doing heading out that way?”
“I told you, and besides, you know from Avery and everyone else in town, that he’s here visiting because his mom grew up here. He wanted to see the Langley Creek Bridge. She wrote about it in her journal a long time ago.”
“Journal?” There was a sharp interest in her mother’s eyes, and Lilly understood all too well what she was getting at. Hide your mam’s journal, she wanted to warn Quinn all of a sudden, before my mom fakes needing to clean your room and tries reading it, looking for clues leading to her breakup with Dad. “What else did she write about in her journal?”
“I don’t know. Not like I’ve read it.” Technically true. Though Quinn had read a portion to her, she wasn’t about to tell her mom that or any more of what she’d learned. Lilly shouldn’t have even told her about the bridge. She hadn’t meant to violate Quinn’s trust. He’d shown her nothing but sweetness from the moment he arrived. Then again, if her mom was hurt over a woman who broke her and Dad up, she supposed she couldn’t blame her either.
Talk about a rock and a hard place.
“You’re the one always telling me to go out and meet guys, Mom. And for fuck’s sake, I’m twenty-seven years old. I can see whoever I want.” She smacked the lemon down hard.
“Yes, you can see whoever you want. And apparently, you can curse whenever you want too. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but that’s fine,” she said, as Lilly thought of the one, hot thing that had gotten into her lately. “Totally fine by me, but…why him, Lillian? Of all the men?”
“Of all the men, Mother?” She folded her arms over her chest. “How many men come through here? Besides, he’s a very nice, classy man with strong family values, as a matter of fact, and a great head for business. You would like him if you would just get to know him.”
Her mother quietly picked lint off a dish towel. “If I know anything, it’s that people are cut from the same cloth, so if he’s anything like his mother, he won’t care who he hurts. He’ll do the same to you—leave right when you start falling for him.”
“Wow.” Lilly shook her head. This was all crazy, not to mention paranoid, of her. “So, you think he’s going to hurt me the same way Maggie Phillips hurt Dad. But aren’t you glad she did, Mom? If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had him back.”
Her mother grimaced. “You mean, the way she hurt me.”
So, that was it. This was personal between Maggie and her mother. “I respect that, Mom, and I’m sorry that she hurt you, but Quinn is a different person. And besides, you don’t need to worry about him breaking my fragile little heart because I’ll be in Miami.”
Her mother scoffed and threw up her arms. “Right. And if he’s anything like his mother, I’m sure he’s encouraged you to go, leave town, abandon me when I need you most.”
Lilly thought of how Quinn had actually encouraged her to do exactly that. How he’d marveled at the wonderful time she was going to have in Miami before she’d gotten upset at him, momentarily, over the way it seemed he was pushing her away. “Are you kidding me?” she said, throwing the tray of muffin batter into the oven and letting the door close with a sharp tap. “I knew I was going to Miami before I even met Quinn, so how could he be responsible for convincing me to leave? You’re not even making any sense!”
“You just said yourself that you received the news a few days ago, but you hadn’t decided what to do until today!” Her mother gloated in momentary victory. “So which is it?”
“I was kidding when I said that.”
“Kidding? That’s a weird way to kid, don’t you think?” she argued.
Lilly braced her arms against the sink, breathing deeply to calm herself.
“Honey—” her mother began more softly.
“Well, okay, not kidding, per se. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings by making you think that I had held onto a secret for days, so I just said that. But the truth is, I’d already made up my mind before Quinn and his brother walked through the door.”
Her mother’s voice was calm and even. “Lillian, you know I need you here. Who’s going to make your muffins?” Before Lilly could retort with a rash diatribe about how it’s her life, her decisions, and how her mom should just deal with it, she saw the tears at the corners of Mom’s eyes, and realized… Mom knew that most people came to Russian River House because of her famous baked goods, because Trip Advisor recommended the establishment based on all the reviews about muffins and little else.
Lilly was her secret weapon—and she was about to lose her.
“What’s going to happen to Parker House if you go?” Mom asked, pulling out one of the last of her bullet points. “Your baked goods don’t just draw people here, but to Parker House as well. The winery is barely holding on. Phillips Winery monopolizes wine tastings around here with their fancy festivals. You know that. We’ll go down before you know it.”
Although losing business to Phillips Winery was always a concern, this was the first that Lilly had heard of Parker House “barely holding on.” She suspected her mother was dramatizing that as much as she was dramatizing how the family BB would crumble to dust if Lilly were ever to leave. “I understand your concerns, Mom. I really do, but I need to do this,” Lilly said gently. “It could lead to more opportunities. I would really love to open my own bakery someday soon.” Lilly noted the hurt in her mother’s eyes, but she couldn’t backpedal now. She was all the way in. No turning back. “I know when I was younger I wanted to take over the bed-and-breakfast, but my dreams have changed. I can’t stay in Green Valley forever, Mom. I’ll wither away.” She knew those last words would especially hurt her mother because a blind person couldn’t miss that Penny Parker had withered quite a bit since the death of her husband. “You’re here, Grandma and Gramps too, Nancy, Mellie, Cook, and everyone, of course, but I need more. And I’ll be back. I hope I’ll always have a home here.”
Mom said nothing.
“I’m going to do this,” Lilly said, walking up and pressing a hand against her mother’s shoulder. “But I would be thrilled if you would support me on this decision. I’m happy about Miami. I’m happy they picked me out of five hundred entries. And I would hope that you’re happy for me too.”
For a long while, Lilly stood there watching her mother’s face contort into a miasma of emotions. It didn’t seem like she was going to go gentle into that good night. She would do everything within her power to convince Lilly to stay here and help run the bed-and-breakfast, like a good inheritor of the family business ought to do. When this conversation was over, Lilly was so totally meeting up with Quinn at Mulligan’s, where he said he’d be tonight to watch the game.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” her mother said finally, wiping her eyes. “I can understand you leaving for a while. Maybe I have been hoarding you. What can I say, I want to keep you for my own. You’re my girl.” A small, defeated smile swiped across her mom’s face, but as quickly as she saw it, it disappeared. “But I can’t understand you seeing Quinn again,” she said, blue eyes blazing. “And as Ken Parker’s and my daughter, I would hope you could understand why.”