Just Desserts (9 page)

“Lovely. Except can you make it a Miller?”

“Yeah. Right. I keep forgetting you’re a Cheesehead.”

Chapter Ten

Quinn pulled a fresh change of clothes out of his closet. He expected a FIB barb from Sadie, but when he turned back, she slept soundly. He kissed her goodnight.

Jogging the last length of the wood-chipped trail to the boathouse and pier, he spotted smoke billowing over the lake like an eerie fog at in the night sky. He headed around the corner of the boathouse, trying to recall where he’d seen fire extinguishers and almost plowed into Lindy and Eddie manning two stainless roll-top Weber gas grills. Shrouded in smoke, Eddie madly spritzed the grill to control the flames, while Lindy laughed and cussed. She tried fanning and swatting the gusts of smoke away from him.

“Nice work. Thanks, you two.” Quinn didn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s grill, grease spitting and whistling, cooked the beef burgers and steaks while Lindy’s grill, smoke-free sizzled turkey and veggie burgers. “The guys all here?”

“About half,” Eddie said. “Plenty of good eats from Ms. Katie’s. Thanks, boss.”

“Is Paul here?”

“I think,” Lindy said. “Any idea where my best friend is? I’ve been calling her all night and she’s not answering her cell.”

“She’s recovering from a small bout of sun poisoning and sleeping. She’s here, up in the house.”

Lindy let out a cough. “If that what’s you call a
house
¸ I think our new apartment will be a mudroom to you.”

Quinn cast off his unease. The job of renovating his great grandfather’s estate was almost complete and he’d managed to keep his familial connection under wraps. All summer he’d bickered with his brother, Jake, about admitting to the team that there was a personal agenda tacked on to the mansion. Jake had tried to convince him that if the workers knew that the renovations were a family endeavor that they would be more committed to the job. Quinn didn’t buy it. His mother’s family had hosted a whole series of complications in many situations so he dedicated his Wrigley name to a separate wing of his life.

“I’ll let you two lovebirds settle the grills. But I want to see your new apartment, Lindy, by the end of the week.”

“Bossy boss, aren’t you, Quinn?”

“Only when necessary.” He joked and strode into the boathouse to escape that putrid smell of carbonized animal fat, this, being one of the few times, he liked being a vegetarian.

Already in the boathouse, some of his men were chugging beers and playing pool. Quinn expected the rest of his team, about twenty more guys, to take advantage of the free food and beer. He didn’t think there’d be many significant others, since most of the men were young locals picking up summer cash before they went back to school. The boys worked hard and the renovations were more than terrific without ever knowing that he was a Wrigley. He’d make sure to tell Jake when he saw his brother this weekend in Chicago.

Quinn grabbed a Miller, no Bud, from a cooler and chuckled under his breath. Sadie had fallen asleep before he could find a beer for her. He grabbed a couple bottles of Miller to take back to her and set them next to the refrigerator.

He glanced around at the noses of wood boat collection hitched onto the frames. He was satisfied with the uniform look that his choice of forest green duck cloth covers created. Quinn saw Paul admiring the glossy mahogany belly of one of the boats and headed over. “Paul. Do you want to check on Sadie? Who’s cooking at the diner, man?”

Paul shook his hand. “No, no. I trust Sadie is in good hands with you. I came over to drop off dessert for you boys. I forgot to send it with Lindy. I close the diner at eight on Wednesdays for my mates, to play Sheepshead.”

“Sadie’s sunburn should be better by the morning. I’m sure she’ll be anxious to get back to Ms. Katie’s before she goes to Chicago.”

Paul laughed. “I’m not letting her back in the diner. I fired her yesterday. She needs to get the hell out of this dinky town and do her job, finishing her thesis. Did you tell her about designing the expansion?”

Quinn offered him one of the Miller bottles he held in his hand, but he declined. “Yes, sir. But I think she’s was a little groggy so I’ll tell her again in the morning that I want her to head up the diner renovations.”

“Good.” Paul squatted down and tugged off a corner flap of one of the Chris-Craft covers. “She’s a beauty.”

“Yep, she is.” Quinn thought of Sadie. “She’s not riding her bike to Chicago, Paul, is she?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

“I think Lindy’s taking her to the city Saturday morning. Why?”

“Since you fired her can you let Sadie go earlier? Say Friday? I have to get back to Chicago to resolve a fucked-up solar panel.”

Paul stood and shook out his knees with a cracking pop. “Hell yeah. Her place is in Bucktown. On Damon. I think her old roommate, Ellen, stayed there all summer. Be my guest, deliver my ‘beautiful’ daughter, Laughton, to Chicago so she can get on with her life.”

“And you? Are you going to take some time away from the diner? Did Lindy say she’d run it for you?”

“Yeah. I am. Don’t worry about your new acquisition. It will be in good hands. Lindy and Eddie are going to split shifts. My mates, the Sheepshead foursome, will help. Play cooks and waiters for me…I mean, you.”

Quinn pictured Lindy and Eddie at the flaming grill then laughed. “We’re good to go Paul. Just make sure your fire extinguishers are in working order.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. I’ll give Sadie the good news later. Right now, I need to babysit those frat boys over there.” Quinn pointed his beer bottle at the group of brawny young men that had accumulated around the bar and were downing shots of Jagermeister. “This could get out of hand if I don’t keep an eye on them.”

“Go to Sadie. I’ve had plenty of experience breaking up bar room brawls in Dublin. Those boys don’t have anything on a room full of pissed up Irish footballers.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t forget to grab the sack in the freezer. Give it to Sadie; it’s her favorite!” Paul yelled.

He hurried off, saying a quick “hey” to his men before leaving. He grabbed the brown paper bag in the freezer and the beers and raced like hell, up the hill, to get back to Sadie. When he barreled in the back kitchen door, except for a sliver of light from his bedroom, the apartment stood darkened.

Quinn flipped on the overhead light and threw the bag with Sadie’s dessert in the freezer. He dropped her sandals on the table, glad he had remembered to grab them off the pier at the last minute. “Sadie?” he called out as he headed in the direction of the bedroom. “You awake?”

He stripped off his T-shirt while navigating around the familiar floor plan of the game room in the dark. Avoiding the leather bound poker table and the snooker table; he pulled the chain to illuminate the Tiffany chandelier over the pool table. He made a pit stop in the bathroom to throw his dirty shirt in a laundry basket, splash water on his face and chest, and pull on a clean black tee.

Quinn couldn’t wait to slide into bed with Sadie. He figured that she had a few good hours of sleep to help her heal and if her skin still hurt, he’d play spa boy again, but this time he’d dive down and play with her deeper and kiss where the sun missed.

“Sadie, how are you?” He crept around the door into the bedroom. Sheets were strewn on the floor and the bed was empty. “Sadie?” he called louder, stepping back into the game room. “Where are you?” he yelled again.

There was no response. Hurriedly, he searched every room in the servants’ quarters, ones he didn’t even know existed. He came up with a lot more stuffed wild beasts, but no Sadie.

Quinn spotted her bra and panties hanging on the towel bar in the bathroom. She couldn’t have gotten too far without them. He reluctantly scratched the image of her skinny-dipping in the lake out of his brain.

He heard muffled music. U2’s
Streets Have No Name
? He rushed downstairs to the media room.

“Sadie?”

“Oh, hey. I’m down here. This is amazing. On this huge flat screen I can see spit flying out of Bono’s mouth. I couldn’t sleep so I fiddled around upstairs. Tried to play a game of pool, but then the water buffalo freaked me out. Are those antlers or horns on that creature’s head?”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Quinn found the remote on the coffee table and turned down the volume. “What are you watching?” He kicked off his Nikes and lounged in one of the velvet theater seats next to her.

“Not much. VH-1 Classics. It’s a documentary on U2. Bono’s pretty hot. I get why my mom followed the band around the world as a groupie.”

Sadie wore one of his white T-shirts, and sat with one long leg tucked under her butt and the other stretched out, mesmerized by the television. “You’re too young to get groupies. Holistic health guru, Kate Maxon, followed U2 around? Seriously?”

“She did. And I’m not too young to understand band fanatics. I followed the Foo Fighters around two summers ago. My mom actually went to Ireland to see U2. That’s how they met, my mom and dad.”

As she gazed at the screen watching Bono belt out his songs to screaming fans at Dublin Stadium, her eyes welled up with tears. If he shouted loudly, Quinn suspected that Sadie wouldn’t flinch. “I spoke to your dad. He brought over your favorite dessert.”

She said nothing.

“It’s
innnthefreeezer
,” he sang to coax her back from the Eighties U2 concert.

Sadie crawled off the chair and lay on the plush red-carpeted floor and covered her eyes with her forearm. Scooting her butt, she placed the hem of his T-shirt around her thighs. Her copper hair tumbled over her shoulders. Mesmerized by the feline-like grace of her lithe body, Sadie was lean and muscular, but her sadness sucked the breath out from his gut.

He stretched beside her, propping his head on his elbow. “Your dad said you’re free to go back to Chicago anytime. I’d be glad to take you on Friday.” He tenderly pried her arm off her eyes, wanting to see them. They’d become his base camp.

She didn’t let him budge her arm and kept her eyes shut tight. “Yeah? What if I don’t want to go? Pop’s kicking me out of her diner. You’re taking over her dream. Where am I supposed to go…to be with her?” She let out a painful sob, and started shaking so hard that Quinn lay on top of her like he had to keep her warm, to prevent her from freezing to death. He lightly rubbed her tendered arms, desperate to dig her out and bring her back from the cold.

“Ssh Sadie.” He breathed in her ear.

“She fucking died on me! How could she leave me?”

“She didn’t mean to. And I’m sure she didn’t want to.”

Quinn clung to her.

They listened to Bono pleading,
Let it go,
to his Dublin disciples. When the fans roared at the song’s climax, she roused under him, draped her arm over his shoulder, and opened her eyes.

Quinn let her eyes swallow him up.

“You’re sweet.” She sighed.

“Um, so my bad ass isn’t working for you? Damn, I tried hard.” His jeans rubbing against her bare sun-abused skin worried him so he slid off and onto her side.

“Where are you going?”

He buried his head in her hair. “Don’t want to crush you.”

“Come back. I need you to anchor me so I can float.”

He nuzzled the soft spot right above her collarbone and kissed her neck. “Are you saying I float your boat, sweetheart?” He laughed, sidling back on top of her. “Just trying to speak your language!”

“You’re incorrigible.” She swatted his butt and swiftly wrestled then pinned him on his back. Straddling over him, she locked his arms above his head. “Gotcha,” she laughed.

“No shit.” Dazed at her stealth maneuver, Quinn was incredibly turned on. Above him, Sadie’s jade eyes sparkled mischievously and her mane of ginger hair tickled his face. She scooted up onto his belly. Only then did he realize that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He groaned.

She wiggled her hips slowly around his waist and kept his arms locked above his head. He grew hard underneath her butt cheeks. He relaxed and his arms flexed as she glided her smooth creamy pussy back and forth over his stomach. Then she kissed him just below his bellybutton. He growled out.

Sadie let his arms loose and stripped off her T-shirt. He gazed up and never let his eyes leave hers. Combing her fingers through his damp hair, she lay down on top him. He stroked the length of her back and tickled her behind. She whooshed in his ear.

He gently rolled her off of him and onto her back and hurriedly rid himself of his damned clothing. He wanted every part of Sadie’s smooth skin molding to his. He yanked off his T-shirt and began unbuttoning his fly.

She sat up and clasped his hand. “Let me.”

Sadie knelt before him and kissed his stomach and traveled south with her lips. She unzipped his jeans, then slid her hands around his hips and tugged his briefs down and over his hard-on. He steadied himself by nesting his hands in her hair. “Sadie.”

“Quinn, I’m really hungry for dessert.” She grasped his butt and kissed and flicked her tongue about every edge of his tip. He swayed and groaned as she guided him down onto his back. Sadie straddled his thighs.

“Really? What are you in the mood for, sweetheart?”

She licked his cock lightly. “Mmm, vanilla ice cream with tart Door County cherries.”

“Funny, that’s my favorite dessert,” he murmured, barely able to speak. His blood pumped so fast through his veins as Sadie swept her lips up and down his prick. Her hair tickled his thighs. She was insatiable. She kissed and caressed him until he groaned in agony. He wanted to burst, but held back. He clutched onto her shoulders. “Sweetie pie, I hope you’re hungry be…cause I can’t…”

And with that, Sadie opened wider and took as much of him as would fit into her mouth and sucked. As he burst and came into her mouth she giggled, and licked and kissed. He groaned and laughed. He was whipped.

She fell onto her back laughing. “You are too much fun.”

He regained his senses and pounced. Crawling on all fours like a predator, he nosed his head between her bent knees as she hugged her stomach to control her fits of delight. He spread her thighs apart and playfully leered at her over the plane of her lean stomach. “Sadie, I’m
cumming
for you again.”