Gail Gaymer Martin - A Dream of His Own

Ava wondered if the man realized he didn’t know her name. Maybe she could be as closed-mouthed as he was and remain a nameless woman. He apparently liked to be in control, but he’d met his match today. Ava Darnell wasn’t easy to push around. She sighed, dismissing her ridiculous thoughts.

His knowing Lexie and Ethan had eased her mind, but she’d been distracted by his good looks. The streaks of gray contrasting with his wavy dark hair had raised an age question, but studying his features, she suspected he wasn’t too far from her almost thirty-nine years. And he’d looked at her with those eyes—gorgeous eyes, blue ones that seemed to search her soul. Or was he searching his own? She may never learn a thing about him. But two could play the silent game.

Traffic cleared and Ava veered into the parking lot with the SUV following behind her. A body shop made her miserable. She didn’t have the money to deal with a damaged car. Making ends meet was enough of a challenge, especially with her steep mortgage. With the mention of her house payment, her thoughts flew to the financial mess Tom had left behind.

She gazed at the shop door and cringed. What did she know about cars and repairs? Yet seeing the nameless man slip from his SUV, her confidence lifted as he approached her. She spun around with false assurance and headed for the entrance.

Before she reached the door, he dashed ahead of her and held it open. She headed for the counter. So did he.

From the garage, the sound of a static-filled radio station was punctuated with clanks of metal and intermittent thuds. A man glanced in from the garage and held up his index finger, and in moments, he charged through the doorway, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. “Quinn, what are you doing here?”

Quinn. She gave a sidelong look at the man beside her. Irish name. He looked Irish—the dark Irish with the amazing blue eyes and raven hair. He reached forward and grasped the man’s hand with a shake, and then nodded toward her. She wanted to give her own nod toward him. He’d caused the accident.

Quinn preceded to tell the story, chuckling as he called it a fender-denter, directing another nod her way.

Finally she gave her own nod. “He backed out of the parking spot into me.” She put a little emphasis on the he and me, hoping the man Quinn had called Randy got the point.

Randy gave him a flickering grin before looking at her with an unsuccessful attempt to appear serious. “So you both need an estimate.”

She pushed her way closer to the counter. “Yes, it’s my trunk lid. It has a dent and now the lid won’t lock.”

He pulled out a form and grabbed a pencil. “Name?”

So much for being nameless. “Ava Darnell.” As she spoke, she dug into her bag and pulled her driver’s license from her wallet, then slid it on the counter.

He glanced at it. “Phone number?”

She eyed Quinn, but he was looking at her license. She wanted to cover it with her hand. “You won’t need my number. We’re going to wait.”

“You’re welcome to wait.” He tilted his head, his pencil poised. “But I still need your phone number.”

She drew up her shoulders and gave him her number.

He pulled out another form and jotted Quinn’s name at the top. She couldn’t read the last name, and Quinn spieled off his telephone number. The area code was local, but she expected that.

“I know you have insurance, Quinn.” He turned to her. “How about you, Ms. Darnell?

She reached for her wallet again. “I have insurance.” Her stomach churned knowing she’d still have a deductible. Where would she get the money?

“No.” Quinn’s voice startled her.

Randy scowled, his eyes shifting from her to Quinn. “Which is it?”

“I have insurance.” She delved into her bag.

“The accident was my fault.”

Quinn’s admission stopped her cold. “You admit it?”

Quinn ignored her and looked at Randy. “I’d prefer to pay for whatever she needs. Pretend she doesn’t have insurance.”

His meddling heightened her irritation. She attempted to save money, but she wasn’t a pauper if that’s what he thought. “Please, I have—”

His eyes captured hers. “I know, but allow me to do this.”

Addled, she slipped the strap of her bag onto her shoulder and studied him.

Randy dropped the pencil on the counter. “Whatever you say.” He pointed to the garage. “I have a job to finish. It’ll take another twenty minutes or so. You can wait here if you want. I’ll get to your cars as soon as I can.” He motioned to the chairs in the waiting area.

Ava strode across the room, sank into a seat and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Quinn stood beside her. She scrutinized him a moment. “What’s wrong with you?”

He drew back, his eyes widening. “What?” He shook his head and looked away. “I’m trying to be conscientious.”

“I have insurance.”

He sank beside her. “And a deductible.” His head lowered as if he were looking for a further response on the floor.

Though the deductible was correct, Ava still didn’t understand his determination to pay. “I have a job.” The income wasn’t great, but it was a job. “I don’t need charity.”

He lifted his head, his expression darkened by her judgment. “I know you aren’t looking for a handout, and I’m sorry it came across the wrong way.”

Her teeth clamped over the inside of her bottom lip, and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I—” She straightened her shoulders. “We haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Ava Darnell.” She extended her hand as much for goodwill as for her introduction.

Quinn peered at it a second before grasping it. “Quinn O’Neill.”

Definitely Irish. She gave his hand a firm shake. “Let’s hear the estimate before you make offers, okay?”

Though his eyes darkened, he nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He seemed to find the floor interesting.

She settled into silence, trying to understand this man. His offer to pay for her repairs seemed odd, but it took all kinds of people to make up the world. Maybe he was a staunch Christian compelled to show kindness or generosity. Whatever it was, she hoped he wasn’t a scam artist. She flinched, realizing her attitude stemmed from her late husband Tom’s financial problems. She had to be more trusting. He said he knew Lexie and Ethan. Still, being a single woman always put the fear of being ripped off in the forefront of her mind.

* * *

Quinn watched Ava in his peripheral vision. Her determination to resist his help drove him crazy. On the other hand, he admired her, too—her pride and her self-assurance. He couldn’t help but notice how she’d charged from her car after she’d parked outside. She walked with a decisive manner, her head high and her solid frame giving her an air of knowing what she was doing.

Lydia had a way of carrying herself that showed her confidence and her receptiveness. That’s what had attracted him when he met her. She’d made a perfect wife for him, the owner of a prestigious business. She knew how to plan excellent dinner parties and how to add elegance to even the simplest event. He couldn’t imagine meeting another woman like Lydia, and yet today those attributes weren’t as important as they had been. After her death, he’d readjusted his priorities. His old life had been self-centered, more driven to earn status and wealth. Now other things were more important.

When Ava shifted in the chair, her knee bumped his. He lifted his gaze to her face, aware she had something on her mind.

“It’s difficult being a single parent.”

One of his questions had been answered. She was single as he suspected. “How old is your son?”