Kate Hoffmann - The Mighty Quinns - Dermot-Dex

“I’m not sure anymore that I want to leave.”

Rachel groaned, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. “Don’t say that.” She shook her head. “Don’t tease me and let me believe you want to stay.”

“Why not?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “This isn’t a game. This is my life.”

“What does that mean?” Dermot said, an edge of anger in his voice.

“I think that sometimes you’ll say anything to get what you want.” Rachel sighed. This conversation was going nowhere. They usually had no trouble communicating, but she couldn’t seem to make him understand. “Don’t talk about the future like you imagine yourself here.”

“Don’t you imagine that your life might suddenly become easier?”

“Easier? You think I want you because it makes my life easier?” Though the notion seemed insulting at first, Rachel realized that maybe Dermot was right. Maybe she was falling in love with the idea of a man at Clover Meadow Farm, instead of with the man himself. What did she really know about Dermot, beyond what they shared in the bedroom?

“Are you really that delusional?” Rachel asked. “I don’t need you to complete my life. I’m perfectly capable of running this farm on my own.”

“Are you?” Dermot asked, his expression intense.

God, was he deliberately provoking her? How had this conversation managed to deteriorate in such a short time. She ought to just walk away, before she said something she couldn’t take back. “Yes, I am. In fact, right now, I wish I’d never even hired you. I thought I’d figured out what I wanted and then you came along and screwed it up.” She cursed softly. “I was all right being alone. I wasn’t happy, but I was fine.”

Rachel scrambled off the counter, crossing the kitchen to stand behind the table, creating a barrier between them. Anger bubbled up inside her. How had she let things go so far? She’d promised herself that she’d protect her heart, and somehow, without even knowing, she’d allowed herself to fall for him.

“I think you should go,” she said, humiliated at the emotion that made her voice shake.

“Are you joking?”

“I’ll pay you for all six weeks. You’ll have enough for a bus ticket home. It would be better for both of us.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You hired me to work on this farm for six weeks and that’s what I’m going to do. If you don’t want me in your bed anymore, that’s fine. But I’m not leaving. So you can just forget that.”

Rachel cursed softly. Dermot Quinn was stubborn and arrogant. “It’s better if we just end it now, before either of us gets in too deep.”

His gaze met hers. “I’m not sure that’s possible,” he replied. “I know it’s not possible for me. And I don’t think it’s possible for you either.”

“We need to try.” Rachel moved to the door, then turned back to look at him. “I’m going to try.”

She yanked open the screen door and walked outside, heading for the barn and a last check on the goats. She felt as if she’d just dodged a terrible danger, her heart slamming in her chest, her adrenaline pumping. It would be easy to fall in love with Dermot and so hard to fall out of love. And right now, she didn’t have the strength to fight that battle.

“SEND UP SOME MORE shingles,” Dermot called.

He tucked his hammer into the old tool belt and made his way down from the peak of the roof. Eddie was stationed on the ground next to the old stone house, his hands on the rope to a pulley they’d rigged up. As always, Benny was at his side, this time perched on top of a stack of packaged shingles.

Over the past few days, Dermot had worked himself to exhaustion. At first, it helped alleviate his anger. The fight they’d had had been ridiculous. It was clear that Rachel was looking for any excuse to put some space between them and had jumped on the first misunderstanding they’d had.

Once his anger had cooled, he’d used hard work to defuse his sexual energy. It helped to have something to focus on, beyond thoughts of Rachel’s lips or her breasts or the way her body felt beneath his.

But now, he needed to drive himself hard just to sleep at night. It was the only way he could deal with the empty spot beside him in bed. If he was tired enough, he could sleep without dreaming of Rachel and her soft skin and naked flesh and— Dermot cursed.

“I’m working as fast as I can,” Eddie said. “These things aren’t as light as a feather, you know. I’m an old man. Give me a break.”

“Sorry,” Dermot called down. “I wasn’t swearing at you.”

Three nights thinking about her, wondering if she was lying awake thinking about him. The days were even worse. He worked beside her in the dairy barn, watching her move, thinking about how nice it would be to drag her into his arms and kiss her until she surrendered again. They ate dinner together, drove to the feed store together, walked out to the pasture to fetch the goats for evening milking.

He understood her reluctance to get close again. They had jumped into the deep end of the desire pool and become expert swimmers in a very short time. Surprising for him since he’d always been rather indifferent about long-term relationships. When the strings came along, he was usually the one to cut and run.

But there were moments when he could actually picture himself living on the farm with Rachel. Those moments occurred at the oddest times—while he was chopping potatoes for dinner or when they were standing at the gate to the goat pen, watching the kids jump and play. This morning it had come when she handed him a mug of coffee.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on up there?”

Dermot looked over the edge of the roof and waved at Eddie. The package of shingles was nestled inside the bucket and he pulled on the rope.

A few moments later, Eddie appeared at the top of the ladder. He clambered onto the roof before Dermot had a chance to stop him, nimbly sitting down next to Dermot with a satisfied smile.

“If Rachel catches you up here, she’s going to kill me,” Dermot warned.

The old man grinned. “At my age, I can do whatever I want. I don’t take my orders from her.” He paused. “Although it seems that you do.”

“I work for her. She’s the boss.”

“You know what I mean. I can see that something’s changed between you. You two used to act like lovesick fools.”

“We were not—”

“Don’t think I didn’t know what was goin’ on,” Eddie said, wagging his finger at Dermot. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. There was a spark there, somethin’ special. I don’t know what happened between you, but whatever it was, I expect the spark is still there.”

“We just decided it would be better if—”

“Don’t give me that bull. What the hell is better about this? The two of you mopin’ around? How is that better?”

Eddie had barely said more than five words to him before this and now he was lecturing him on his relationship with Rachel? This didn’t seem real, Dermot mused. But then, Eddie had known Rachel her whole life. Maybe he could offer some valuable advice.

“It’s the way Rachel wants it,” Dermot said.

“Oh, don’t be such a namby-pamby. Take control.” Eddie frowned. “I had a spark once. Shoulda married her, but I didn’t. Her name was Mary Ellen Duncan. I wasted too much time and some other fella caught her eye and that was the end of it for me. We coulda been happy. We coulda had a good life, but I was too dang polite to tell her how I felt.”

“Carpe diem,” Dermot murmured.

“What are we talking about now?”

“Carpe diem. It’s Latin. Seize the day. But what if I don’t know how I feel?” Dermot asked.

Eddie waved his hand dismissively. “Then figure it out. Take off your short pants and be a man. Don’t be a mouse. Because, I’ll tell you one thing. When she leaves this farm and goes back to the city, there’s goin’ to be all kinds of men who’ll come courting. And I’m not sure you’d be able to stand the competition. You’re not that good-lookin’.”