Kate Hoffmann - The Mighty Quinns - Dermot-Dex

“What time does your bus leave?” she asked.

“4:00 p.m.”

He’d said goodbye to the boys before they left for school and later had a long talk with Eddie about the future and “carpe”ing his diem. And then, he’d walked through the barn and said his farewells to the goats.

He and Rachel had spent the early afternoon in her bed, curled up with each other, talking about the time they’d spent together. It was as if he was about to wander into a deep desert and she was the last drop of water he’d have. She was sweet and satisfying. And like water, she was what kept him alive.

“How long will it take for you to get home?”

“A while,” he said. “The ride out here was two days and four transfers.”

“You had enough for a plane ticket,” she said. “Before you bought that quilt. Why don’t you let me buy you a plane ticket?”

He’d never thought of that option. It would give him two extra days to spend with Rachel. But his grandfather had given all four of them very specific instructions. And two and a half days of nothing but passing scenery would give him time to sort out everything that had happened in the past six weeks.

He sighed softly. He’d thought his grandfather had gone off the deep end with this plan of his. When he’d left Seattle, Dermot couldn’t imagine any other life for himself but the one he had. And now, he was forced to admit that the life he’d shared with Rachel was… perfect. Wonderful. A revelation.

“I have to take the bus,” he said. “It’s part of the deal.”

“Are you excited to get back?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I mean, I’m looking forward to seeing my brothers. I’d love to know what they’ve been up to. But after living here on the farm, my life at home seems a bit dull.”

She giggled. “You think the farm is more exciting than living in Seattle?”

“I’ve loved this life,” he said. “It’s simple and oddly satisfying. I’ve loved working beside you and sitting at the table watching you make dinner and I even love burning the garbage. I feel healthy, like I’ve actually put in a day’s work when I’m done.” He held out his hands. “And I have calluses.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to take his hands in hers.

“For what? They’re like a badge of honor.”

He slipped his hand around her nape, then she pulled him down on the bed with her. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if my grandfather had handed me a different ticket. I would never have met you.”

“Maybe I would have hired one of your brothers?”

“Maybe,” he said. But the thought of Rachel with any other man but him was difficult to tolerate. “No. I don’t think so.”

“How do you know?” she asked. “If they look anything like you, I might have.”

“Actually, they all look a lot like me.” He ran his hand down to her breast, cupping the warm flesh in his palm. “But none of this would have happened.”

“How do you know?”

He bent close, his breath warm on her ear. “Because you were made for me, and me alone,” he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce kiss. “It’s like we know each other so well. But we only know us. We don’t know anything else. Just what’s gone on between us.”

“This is all that makes any difference,” Dermot said. “And the other stuff, we’ll learn later.”

“Later? When is later? Not tomorrow, or next week. We’re all out of time.”

He sat up next to her. “We don’t have to be, Rachel. We can find a way to be together. We just have to figure it out.”

“I can’t ask you to stay,” she said.

“And I won’t ask you to leave,” he countered.

“Then where does that leave us?”

He smoothed his hand across her cheek. “Maybe you’ll decide to leave. Or maybe I’ll decide to come back. You never know what might happen.”

She nodded slowly. “You never know.” Rachel lay back down and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. “Tell me what you’re going to do when you get home. I want to imagine you there.”

“First, I’ll probably lie down on my sofa. It’s a really nice leather sofa. And I’ll turn on the game. I get home on a Sunday, so that means football. Hopefully, the Seahawks will be playing. I’ll have a beer, take a shower and then at about five, my time, I’ll call you and we’ll spend the rest of the night on the phone.”

“That would be nice,” she said.

“And then I’ll talk to you through Skype and we can actually see each other.”

“That would be even better,” she said.

“This isn’t the end, Rachel. Not by a long shot.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You believe that, don’t you?”

“I think I do.”

He kissed her. “Good.” Dermot drew a deep breath. “We should probably go. I don’t want to miss my bus.”

“It’s not due for another hour,” she said.

“If we don’t leave now, I’m going to take off all my clothes and all of your clothes and we’re going to lose all track of time.”

Rachel stood up and held out her hand. “All right.

Let’s go.”

Dermot grabbed his bag and followed her out. Eddie was sitting on the porch of the old stone house. He waved and Benny came running up, looking for a treat. Dermot gave him a pat on the head before Rachel handed him the keys. He helped her into the passenger side. When he got behind the wheel, she was staring at him.

“What?”

“You know, I never even took a photo of you. We should have taken some photos.”

“I guess we were too busy with other activities,” he said.

“Promise you’ll send me one? Take one outside your house. Take lots of pictures of your house and your office, so I can imagine you there. And take a picture of your bed, too.”

“So you can imagine me there?”

“No, so I can imagine myself there with you,” she said.

He reached over and wove his fingers through the soft hair at her temple. “I think I can do that.”

The rest of the ride into town passed in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. He wanted to say so many things to her, to tell her how much she meant to him, to tell her that he was falling in love with her. But the more he said, the more complicated his leaving became.

And yet, why was he holding back now? He had a chance to change the course of his life, to capture the heart of the most incredible woman he’d ever met. Yet, he couldn’t gather the courage to put himself out there, to risk rejection, to expose his vulnerabilities.

Why couldn’t she say it first? Just so he knew that she felt the same way. Dermot thought he saw it in her face, in the way she looked at him. But he’d never been in love before, so it was difficult to know if he was reading the signs right.

By the time they reached town, he’d twisted himself into so many knots that he wasn’t sure where he stood with Rachel. He pulled up in front of the bus stop and they both hopped out of the truck. Rachel opened the tailgate and they sat on it, dangling their legs.

“Are you going to wait here with me?” he asked.

“I am. I’m going to spend every last moment with you that I can.”

“You’re not going to cry, are you? Because if you cry, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You can kiss me and tell me everything will be all right. And that we’ll see each other again soon.” She drew a ragged breath. “But I’m not going to cry. I think if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Please don’t cry,” he murmured. He bent close and kissed her. Even after all this time, the temptation to touch her was more than he could resist. He’d grown so used to having complete freedom around her, to act on his affections and his needs. “I don’t want that to be the thing I’m thinking of all the way to Seattle.”