Kate Hoffmann - Marcus

Marcus shifted uneasily. This was getting out of hand. He had to talk to Eden.

Marcus took another sip of his coffee, then set his cup down. “I really need to go. I’ve got a lot of things to do today and I’m good with just the coffee.” He grabbed his wallet and withdrew a twenty, then tossed it on the table. “Breakfast is on me. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Where are you going?” Ian asked. “First you cut out on dinner the other night and now breakfast. For a guy who runs his own business, you seem to be on a pretty tight schedule.”

“I thought you were hungry,” Dec said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a woman stashed back at your place.”

Marcus scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. If I had a woman in my bed, I wouldn’t be here having coffee with you tossers.”

“Good point,” Ian said.

Marcus slid out of the booth, but Dec stopped him before he could make his getaway. “When you go back out to the Ross place, let me know if you see anything.”

“Or anyone?” Marcus asked.

“Just keep an eye out. She went there once-she may stop by again.”

Once Marcus stepped outside, he drew a deep breath of the damp morning air. The minute he got home he was going to have a talk with Eden. The longer she dragged this out, the more consequences there would be in the end. They both needed a plan or this affair of theirs would turn into a major disaster.

EDEN ROLLED OVER IN bed and opened her sleepy eyes, squinting to see the clock on the beside table. Pans clattered in the kitchen, and she flopped back into the soft pillows and stretched. A pleasant exhaustion settled over her, and she smiled to herself as she drew the sheet up over her naked body.

Thoughts of Marcus drifted through her mind, images of his handsome face, eyes closed, passion suffusing his features. Her fingers tingled and she reached out and grabbed his pillow, inhaling his scent.

When it came to desire, nothing seemed to stand between them. When he was inside her, she felt completely vulnerable and infinitely powerful at the same time. She’d discarded the last of her inhibitions. With Marcus, sex was an adventure to be shared.

Eden crawled out of bed and drew the sail around her body. “I thought you were going to bring me breakfast in bed,” she called.

A few moments later an older woman appeared, a dish towel clutched in her hands. “I’m sure I could make you something if you wanted,” she said softly, her words tinged with an accent.

Eden drew a sharp breath, then forced a smile. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I thought you were Marcus.”

She smiled warmly and nodded. “I’m not.”

“Are you the maid?” Eden asked.

“I do occasionally clean up after Marcus,” she said. “That much is true. Are you sure I can’t get you some breakfast, dear?”

“I-I’m just going to get dressed,” Eden said.

“That would be a fine idea. I’ll just get back to work.”

Eden scrambled to find something to wear, but the only clothes within reach belonged to Marcus. She pulled a pair of his boxers from a pile of clean laundry on the floor, then slipped into a T-shirt. By the time she got to the kitchen, the housekeeper was heating water in the teakettle.

“Can I make you a cup?” she asked.

“Yes,” Eden replied. She sat down on one of the stools and observed the woman. She wasn’t dressed like a cleaning lady. She wore a pair of tailored pants and a cotton sweater set in a pretty shade of blue. An uneasy realization dawned and Eden’s stomach lurched. “You’re Marcus’s mother, aren’t you?”

She glanced up and smiled. “I am.” She held out her hand. “Emma Quinn.”

Hesitantly Eden accepted the gesture. “Liselotte,” she said. “Liselotte Bunderstrassen.”

“What a lovely name,” Emma said. “Lisa…?”

“Just Lisa is fine,” Eden said.

Emma reached into a canister on the counter and withdrew a handful of tea bags. “Earl Grey or chamomile?”

“Chamomile,” Eden said.

“How long have you and Marcus known each other, Lisa?” Emma asked as she set two mugs next to the cooktop.

“Not long,” Eden said, then swallowed hard. She certainly didn’t want his mother to think this was a one-night stand. “But long enough. He’s very sweet.”

“He always has been. He’s the baby of the family and he’s a sensitive soul. Always watching out for others.”

“Yes,” Eden said. “That’s true.” She paused. “He doesn’t talk much about his family. I know he has brothers.”

“He has four brothers and two sisters. Do you have siblings?”

Eden shook her head. “No, I’m an only child. I never thought much about having sisters or brothers. I got so little of my parents’ time as it was that I didn’t want to share.” She drew a deep breath. “But now I wish I had a sister or even a brother. Someone I could go to when I needed help. Someone who would always be on my side.”

“Husbands are good for that, too,” Emma said.

She’d made no attempt to hide the inference, and Eden couldn’t stop a smile. “Marcus and I-we haven’t…There’s no reason to believe that-I do like him an awful lot.”

Emma Quinn reached out and patted her hand. “A mother can only hope,” she said. “Marcus would do well to find a wife. He needs someone to shake up his life, someone bright and outgoing, like you. He keeps to himself far too much.”

Eden wasn’t sure how his mother would feel if she knew the truth. Would she be so eager to marry off her son to a notorious party girl who was the star of her very own sex tape? Emma Quinn might be looking for a daughter-in-law, but Eden knew she wouldn’t be on the short list.

The teakettle began to squeal, and Marcus’s mother hopped off the stool and fetched it, filling both mugs with water. “Do you take sugar or milk?”

“Just plain,” Eden said. She wrapped her hands around the mug. “Tell me about your family.”

“I married Paddy Quinn when I was twenty-four. He’d grown up in Ireland and came over here to fish on a long-liner-a swordfishing boat. He came from a family of fishermen. I grew up here. My mother was Irish. My true father died before I was born. He was killed in the war, and my mother married an American G.I. who sent her off to Boston to live with his family.”

“How did you meet your husband?”

“We were introduced by friends. A blind date, you might say. We fell in love, but my mother didn’t want me to marry him. She wanted me to return to Ireland with her after my stepfather died, but I refused.”

“How did you know you loved him?” Eden asked.

“I didn’t at first. But every day, in little ways, he showed me that my happiness was the most important thing to him, more important than his own. He made me feel…” She smiled. “Safe. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it was to me. And later on it was all I needed.”

“No,” Eden murmured. “It sounds wonderful. I know exactly what you mean.”

“And then we had Rory and Eddie and Mary Grace and Jane. And then Ian and Declan and finally Marcus. Would you like children?”

Her question took Eden aback. She’d never thought about having a family of her own. She hadn’t exactly had a good example to follow. The quick answer would have been no, but the thoughtful answer was much more surprising. “Yes,” she murmured. “I’d like to believe that someday I might have a family of my very own.”

Eden sipped her tea as Emma Quinn busied herself around the kitchen. They chatted about Marcus and his talents as a boatbuilder and wood-carver. And gradually Eden began to realize that the man she believed Marcus to be-quiet, solid, tenderhearted-was the man that his family knew, as well.