From Boss to Bridegroom (23 page)

“I'm fine,” she insisted, cheeks pinking as a trio of younger girls heading in their direction giggled and gaped at Quinn as if they'd never seen a handsome man before.

Quinn didn't repeat his question, and Nicole couldn't help but feel relieved. She despised the strained energy enveloping them, the uncertainty where camaraderie used to exist. Fortunately, the café's pink awning came into view. Surely the delicious fare and relaxed atmosphere would put them at ease.

The hostess on duty recognized Nicole and, with a friendly greeting, led them to a window table in the corner. Quinn pulled out her chair and waited for her to be seated before taking the one across from her. His lean form dominated her vision.

For the second time that day, she was tempted to pinch him. It was still difficult to believe that Quinn Darling was here, close enough to touch yet off-limits.

Constance inquired if they wanted coffee. Out of habit, Quinn accepted for himself but declined for Nicole.

“Actually, I would love a cup,” she inserted, laying her reticle on the chair beside her.

With a dip of her head, Constance set off for the kitchen.

Quinn's jaw sagged. “I thought coffee and tea stained your teeth?”

She grinned. “If the amount of hard candy you consume hasn't affected yours then I feel free to indulge now and again.”

He tapped his chin, trademark grin bursting through. “About that, I think your boutique would benefit from penny candy. I'm speaking as your former employer and the owner of an extremely successful country store.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Definitely. Not only would jars of penny candy add a splash of color, it would set your shop apart. When a customer is in need of alterations and is deciding where to go, they'll say, ‘Hey, that Nicole O'Malley, she has penny candy. I should go there. I'll indulge my love of lemon drops while I wait.'”

“I will keep your advice under consideration, Mr. Darling.”

“You're gone for a month and a half and already you're defaulting to formal address?” He shook his head in mock incredulity. “I wouldn't have thought it of you, Duchess.”

The coffee arrived then, and, concentrating on stirring in milk and sugar, she attempted to gather her scattering wits. This charming, teasing Quinn was the man she'd fallen in love with, the one she desperately wanted to keep with her forever.

Nicole made it through the meal by plying him with safe questions, anything to maintain light conversation. There were a few hiccups. Like the moments before their pie arrived and she caught him staring, his honey eyes soft.

“What?”

“Your hair,” he said quietly, elegant fingers skimming the fork and knife handles against the pristine tablecloth. “It's grown out.”

She touched a finger to the ends self-consciously. “More slowly than I'd like, but I no longer receive odd stares.”

“Are you sure they weren't stares of envy? In my opinion, you could make most any hairstyle look stylish. I can't say the same for every female of my acquaintance.”

“You are very good for my self-esteem.”

The memories of Kenneth's prank crowded in, and she was in that field again, Quinn comforting her, making her feel safe and beautiful despite everything. He was the only person she could envision beside her for the remainder of her days, facing life's trials and sharing in life's blessings together.

Could she...
should she
confess her feelings?

And put Quinn in an awkward position? If he'd returned my feelings, he never would've let me go.
No, it was better to keep her secret to herself. That way their future interactions wouldn't be marked with humiliation.

Heart in turmoil, Nicole struggled to project a casual attitude. Aware she was wasting her scant time with Quinn but unable to alter her feelings, she craved the sanctuary of her room where she'd be free to let the pain out.

She left half the pie uneaten on the plate. Subdued once more, Quinn didn't comment on it. He was quiet during their return stroll to the boardinghouse. Dusk cast a yellow haze over the river. A mourning dove cooed above them. With every step, her heart sank a little lower.

Quinn didn't accompany her to the veranda. Instead, he stopped beneath the leafy bower of a dogwood tree, where they had a modicum of privacy.

“I'm leaving first thing in the morning.”

Nicole dug her fingers into her skirts, uncaring she was crumpling the delicate lace. “I understand.”

“Donald is a trustworthy assistant,” he went on, “but he's not...you.”

“I see.”

“I'm not comfortable leaving him in charge for very long.”

“That makes sense.” Her throat was closing up. How many more goodbyes could she take?

Stepping close enough that she could see the pulse point on his throat, which at the moment was quite erratic, Quinn's large hand curved around her nape. She tried to sort the emotions in his hooded gaze and failed. His generous mouth lowered to graze the outermost corner of her lips, evoking shivers of pent-up longing.

He abruptly pulled away, disappointment palpable. “I should go.”

“Quinn?” Apparently she wasn't done tormenting herself. “Will you stop by the boutique in the morning?”

Jaw working, he jerked a nod. Then he was gone.

She gingerly touched the spot where his lips had been. “I'd give all this up in an instant if only you'd ask.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

C
oming here had been a huge mistake. Massive. What had he been thinking?

Oh, that's right. He hadn't. He'd acted purely on impulse, anxious to see her after too many weeks apart.

Anger focused inward, Quinn didn't immediately return to the hotel. He kept walking until he found himself on the docks. At this time of night, when darkness crept across the sky and the sliver of the moon was already visible, the riverside was practically empty. Boats of all sizes bobbed in the murky water. A handful of late arrivals tied off their vessels and began unloading supplies.

The cool breeze coming off the river pushed his hair into his eyes. Not bothering to fix it, he walked without seeing or caring where he was going.

Dinner was a disaster. He'd had trouble containing his emotions, had been on the verge of pushing his own wishes on her despite what an untenable position that would've put her in. His own uncomfortable state had made her anxious. He'd seen the distress in her beautiful violet eyes and hated himself for it.

He could not come here a second time.

Whenever she visited Gatlinburg, he'd make a point to avoid her.

All he had to do was get through yet another farewell tomorrow morning. No extended speeches, and absolutely no touching allowed. Quick and to the point.

Turning his feet toward the hotel, he took his time returning to his room. The ticking of the clock, along with the dread weighing in his chest, kept him awake until the wee hours. He skipped breakfast. Settled for several cups of bracing coffee before heading to the boutique.

He parked his wagon directly in front, beneath the branches of a solitary tree. Even at this early hour, the streets bustled with activity, similar to those in Boston only on a smaller scale. Was Nicole truly happy here? Did she long for the slower pace of Gatlinburg?

They hadn't spoken of such substantial matters last night, and he wasn't about to bring them up now.

Leaving his hat on the wagon seat, he hurried inside, intent on keeping this meeting brief. Nicole rounded the counter and met him in the middle of the store, fragile looking in the same demure, snowy-white dress she'd worn the first night they met. While there'd been fire in her cheeks and retribution sparkling in her eyes then, today shadows dulled her vitality. Her skin was nearly translucent. Soft and delicate.

He thrust his hands in his pockets. “I came to say I'm proud of what you've accomplished here. It took an extraordinary amount of courage to do what you've done.”

Teeth worrying her bottom lip, she nodded. “Thank you, Quinn. Your approval means more than you know.”

“You don't need my approval. The success you've achieved through your hard work and determination, aided with God's strength and guidance, is what matters.”

Worry lines marred her brow. Hands tightly clasped at her waist, she looked everywhere but at him.

Battling the need to soothe away her tension, to say or do something to evoke that sunshine smile of hers, he edged backward. “I'll write to you.”

“I'll write back.”

The doorknob dug into his hip. “Goodbye, Nicole.”

“Take care,” she whispered, arms hugging her middle. “Stay safe.”

The bell jingled as he pushed outside, humid air closing in on him, choking him.
Don't look back. Put her needs first. Give her the freedom to follow her dreams.

He'd reached the wagon when he heard her call his name.

Dense branches providing shade from the overbright sun, Quinn stared as Nicole burst through the door. Rushing to join him beneath the tree, she clutched his arms.

“Take me with you,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and earnest.

Confusion roughened his voice. “What?”

“Being apart from you has been the worst kind of torture.” Her face turned up to his, he noted the trembling of her full lips. “I miss coming to work and seeing you dip into the peppermint jar. I miss watching you slip an extra scoop of sugar into the widow Weber's sack when you think no one is looking. I miss your scowls at the old checker players when they get too rowdy and the way you inhale Mrs. Greene's biscuits and gravy. I daydream about watching you practice your fencing.” Pink flooded her cheeks. “I could do that all day without complaint, actually. I miss so many things about you I'd never be able to list them all. Quinn, I'm miserable without you.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I'm saying I love you.”

Her confession rocked him to the core. He hadn't let himself picture her saying such things to him and was unprepared for the elation bubbling through his system, edging out reason and sensibility. Nicole
loved
him? Wanted to be with him? Images flared in his mind, clear and vibrant images of him and Nicole exchanging marriage vows, moving into their new home behind the church, hosting family dinners...welcoming a baby.

Caught up in the prospect of a future together, he couldn't speak for long moments.

But then the gold lettering of her store sign glittered in the light and the images scattered like dandelion wisps on a stiff breeze.

Gently dislodging her hold, Quinn crossed to the shop's entrance and opened the door, turning to look at her expectantly. Her raven brows crashed together. Unease tightening her features, she preceded him inside haltingly.

“What is it, Quinn?” Pivoting toward him, she held out her hands in appeal. “Is it that you don't want me—”

“Look around you,” he bit out, anguish and frustration coursing through him. “I cannot be the one responsible for destroying what you've strived to achieve. Why do you think I didn't ask you to stay in the first place?”

Hope flickered in the luminous depths. “So you did want me to stay?”

“Of course I did.” Her feelings for him didn't change anything. The situation was impossible.

“Do you love me, Quinn?”

* * *

Nicole held her breath. The courage that had spurred her to run after him and admit her feelings was waning.

Quinn stared at her incredulously. “All I can think about is making you my wife. Does that answer your question?”

Tears blurred her vision, and suddenly he was before her, his touch featherlight on her shoulders. “My darling Nicole.” Tenderness marked his words. “‘I love you' hardly expresses what is truly in my heart. You've captivated me from the moment you hit me with that pan.” He hooked a curl behind her ear. “You challenge me to be a better man, to look beyond the surface to the person beneath. You make me laugh. You make me want to pull my hair out sometimes, too.”

The side of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile, and she matched it with one of her own.

“In short, you make my life richer, fuller, brighter. If you were to accept my hand in marriage, I'd be the happiest man on earth.”

“Oh, Quinn.” He was saying all the right things, but there was a guardedness in his eyes she didn't trust.

“What worries me more than anything is the possibility you'd resent me later on.”

“That won't happen.”

“Maybe not tomorrow or a week from now. But months, perhaps years from now, would you be happy with your choice? You wanted to leave Gatlinburg long before I showed up. I'm not convinced you'd be content.”

“You're right. For many years, I dreamed of a different life far from there. I didn't seek God's guidance as you suggested earlier. I decided what I wanted, what I thought would make me happy, and pursued it without consulting Him. I've come to realize how foolish I've been.” She gestured to the intricate dress she'd designed and created in the window, the colorful fabric bolts lining the walls, her sewing station behind the counter. “The thing about dreams is this—reality doesn't always measure up to your imagination. You of all people should understand that.”

“I do. I also know that it's hardest in the beginning. You're just starting out. Until you feel more at home here...find a church you like and make friends, it's bound to be lonely. That's not a sign that you should give up.”

“I don't deny I'm lonely, but that's not what this is about.” She had to make him understand. Their future depended on it. “Don't you see? Maybe if I'd never met you, I could be content with this life. But I did, and those weeks with you were the most frustrating, exhilarating,
liberating
weeks of my life. Thanks to you, I felt more at home in Gatlinburg than I did my whole life. I finally felt I fit in. Accepted for the person that I am, not because of my last name or for my sisters' sake.” Resting her hand against his cheek, she looked deep into his eyes, letting him see every drop of love and devotion she had for him. “You changed me, Quinn.”

The color of his eyes deepened, intensified to dark caramel. Reaching up, he cradled her face with both hands. “I want very much to believe you. To trust in us.”

“Then do.”

Disquiet flashed. “What about your business? You were born with a needle in your hand, Nicole. You can't waste your God-given talent.”

“That's the beauty of what I do. I'm not required to have a building to fill orders. I can sew anywhere.” She paused. “Remember that night in the springhouse?”

“Are you referring to the night I used the cold as an excuse to hold you in my arms?”

“What? You didn't even like me then.”

He hummed deep in his throat. “You just assumed I didn't.”

Heady warmth fizzed in her middle. “I admit I reveled in your closeness. It was a new experience for me, leaning on someone else's strength.”

The pad of his thumb grazing her lower lip, his voice grew husky. “Get to the point before my good sense fails and I kiss you like I've been tempted to do since I arrived.”

Blinking at his bluntness and wishing he'd do just that, Nicole rushed out, “That night, you questioned my reasons for this move. You asked if I was running from my reputation. My family. Oh, I was madder than a hornet at such an outrageous assumption.”

Quinn's lips twitched. “Really? I couldn't tell.”

“I've had a lot of time to think in recent weeks. You were absolutely right. All those years of planning...I wasn't running
to
something. I was running
from
something.”

Slowly, like clouds drifting across the moon, the doubts in his eyes cleared. “And now there's nothing left to run from?”

“Nothing at all.”

“This is a lot to take in,” he said in mock seriousness. “I may need some convincing.”

At the sight of his glorious, mischievous smile, happiness chased away all the anxiety and fear and sorrow she'd been carrying around the past weeks. Going up on tiptoe, Nicole brushed her lips against his.

A shudder rippled through him. “Greet me like that every morning for the rest of my life?”

She smiled, shyness kicking in.

Quinn winced. “I'm not doing this right, am I?”

Releasing her, he dug in his jacket pocket and fished out something small and yellow. A lemon drop.

“Um, that's not what I was after.”

Nicole pressed her lips together to hold back a nervous laugh. This moment was a turning point, one that would alter her life. She literally shook from the high emotions humming through her.

Putting the sweet in his other pocket, he went searching again and extracted a silk handkerchief. “This is for you.”

She stared at the neat square he pressed into her palm. “Is it a peppermint stick?”

“No.”

“A chocolate-cream drop?”

“Not even close.”

Gingerly unwrapping the material, she gasped at the intricate ring in the center.

Quinn's smile lit up her world. “It belonged to my grandmother. I've carried it on my person since the day I discovered you alone and upset in that field. That day, I knew you were the woman I wanted for my wife. I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance to give it to you, but I kept it with me just in case. Hoping against hope...”

Taking her hand, he dropped to one knee. “I love you, Nicole O'Malley. Please make me the happiest of men and say you'll marry me.”

With a half laugh, half sob, tears of joy skimming her cheeks, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I'll marry you.”

Quinn quickly slipped the ring on her finger and, standing, pulled her close. Adoration glowed in his eyes. “If my proposal is bringing you to tears, we have a problem.”

“Oh, do be quiet and kiss me.”

He kissed her until the bell dinged and a customer walked in. Lifting his head, he said, “I apologize, madam, but we're closed.”

Nicole laughed at the woman's scandalized expression and held up her hand so that her ring was clearly visible. “We're moving locations.”