The Best Part of Me (34 page)

“I'm fine, Mr. Madigan. But I'd like to have a word with you if you have time.”

The man slowly nodded and opened the door farther. “Come in. Let's talk in my study.”

Ewan entered the brownstone and didn't bother to let Oliver lead the way. He knew the way to the study. He'd been there several times. He stopped quickly inside the room when he realized they weren't alone. Adam Madigan leaned against his father's desk, a grim smile spreading across his face.

“Ewan. Good to see you.”

He pulled a breath in through his nose, trying to stamp down the fury that boiled inside of him at the sight of the cocksucker responsible for setting his pub on fire.

“Ewan, do you mind if Adam stays for our meeting?” Oliver asked as he rounded his desk to sit in his massive leatherback chair.

“No, not at all,” Ewan replied. He returned his focus to the older man. The man he'd come here to talk to.

“Won't you have a seat?” Oliver gestured to the chair next to where Adam had sat down.

“I don't intend to stay long, Mr. Madigan. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to stand.”

“Very well. What can I do for you?”

“A little over two months ago, I was approached by an employee of the Madigan family to assist in an assignment in Hartford. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise, especially in the manner in which I was approached, because I cut ties amicably with your family six years ago.”

The older man sat silently without responding.

Ewan went on. “After I turned down the assignment, I was approached again, this time by Keith Hardy at my place of employment. I once again turned down the assignment, which resulted in a brawl that cleared out my barroom and negatively impacted my family's business.”

Still no reaction from the retired head of the Madigan family.

“Adam then approached me himself and tried to
coerce
me to help. Again I refused. He informed me that the agreement that we struck in this very room with the three of us present six years ago meant nothing. That I was indebted to your family for the rest of my life.”

Oliver glanced momentarily over at Adam before returning his eyes to Ewan.

“Early this morning, gasoline bombs were thrown through my family's pub's front windows. The fire destroyed the front of the building as well as a portion of the interior on the ground floor. We will be inoperable until it is fixed, which will be a minimum of seven weeks.” Ewan took a step toward the desk, where both Madigan men were staring at him. “I hope you can see where I am coming from. My family has worked tireless hours to make a way for themselves here in the United States just as your family has done. Mr. Madigan, during my time in your employment, I worked hard. When Adam took over, I continued to work hard for him out of respect for
you
, sir. I need to know if you too feel that the agreement that we struck six years ago in this room meant nothing.”

Ewan's chest rose and fell quickly as he watched Oliver Madigan appraise him. After what seemed like forever, Oliver looked at his son.

“I thought I told you to forget about Hartford.”

Adam waited a moment before replying to his father, “It's been abandoned.”

His father nodded. “Effective when?”

The son swallowed. “Effective right now.”

Oliver Madigan narrowed his eyes at Adam as his lips thinned out. “Were you responsible for what happened to Ewan's pub?”

Adam smiled weakly and shook his head. “I was attending Corinne's dance recital last night. I'm afraid Ewan must be mistaken.”

Before Ewan could reply, Oliver asked, “Did you give the order for what happened to Ewan's pub? And please recall what happened the last time you lied to me.”

Adam's smiled slipped as he stared back at his father. Ewan would have paid quite a bit of money to find out what had happened the last time Adam had lied to Oliver. But that wasn't the reason he was here.

Eventually, Adam gave a short nod. “Yes.”

Ewan saw a twitch in the side of the older man's jaw. “Ewan, it appears as though we owe you an apology.” He pulled a notepad from his top desk drawer and scribbled something on it before handing it to Ewan. “Here is the name of our accountant. Please have your insurance company send over the final amount of damages, and he'll take care of it.”

Ewan nodded, folding the piece of paper and stuffing it in his back pocket. “And our agreement, sir?”

“Our agreement stands. I wish we had more men like you, Ewan, instead of the riffraff my son currently employs.” Oliver gave a pointed look at his son before continuing. “You have my word that you won't be troubled any more by members of our organization.” He was still staring at Adam as he said it. Adam looked to his lap and nodded.

“Thank you. I appreciate your time. I'll see myself out.”

Ewan didn't wait for a response from either man. He walked out of the brownstone as quickly as he could. Once back in his truck, he shoved the transmission into drive and began to navigate the maze of streets to get out of the city.

He felt like a man just released from prison.

Ewan stared straight ahead as he paused at stop signs and red lights, finally making his way back to the interstate. Things at home were in shambles, but he couldn't do anything about that right now.

But there was one thing he was desperate to correct. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

The cool, brisk air felt good going into Quinn's lungs. It was past dusk, and she ambled off the porch to walk along the flagstone path underneath her aunt's pergola. The light of the moon was bright, its glow more than enough to see where she was going.

It had been a few days since she'd tended the garden. It'd been raining so much lately. And then suddenly, this morning the sun had come out and started to dry out the earth. The change in temperature was so drastic and the humidity so unusually high a low-lying fog blanketed the ground.

When she got to the garden, she sighed. She had to admit that she'd worked a miracle in her aunt's backyard. The pergola was beautiful, and her aunt said the garden looked much healthier than it had in years past. She breathed in the heavy scent of turned soil as she bent forward, running her fingers along the new beans that were almost ready to be harvested.

Her heart still ached just as much as it had last night and this morning. When Erin had burst in saying the pub had caught fire, Quinn's first reaction was to run to the pub to make sure Ewan was okay. She'd even grabbed her coat by the door before she'd stopped herself. Regardless of what Ewan had said to her last night, it didn't stop the fact that she still had feelings for him. But at the last moment, she'd decided not to go. He had enough to worry about at the pub, and her showing up would just be a bother to him.

She hurt for him. She could imagine he must be devastated about the pub. But her heart was tender and on the way to being numb, and she had to look out for herself too. The logical side of her reasoned that if the person she loved couldn't return her love, then what was the point in the long run? The emotional side of her didn't care.

She walked past the tomato plants and inspected the cabbage. They were growing nicely but wouldn't be ready to harvest for at least another month. If only her relationship with Ewan worked the same way as vegetables. They planted the seed, cared for and nurtured it, and eventually their love could be harvested so the whole world could see how beautiful it was. But she couldn't really care less about the whole world if Ewan couldn't even see it himself.

She sighed, shaking the pitying thoughts from her head.

“Quinn.”

She held her breath as she turned toward the deep rumble of her name, knowing even before she saw him who it was. Ewan was approaching cautiously, his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans. Her breath rushed out at the sight of him in his white long-sleeved T-shirt that glowed in the moonlight. His hair was slightly more unkempt than usual.

He stopped a few feet away from her, and she immediately wished he would come closer. But the memory of his rejection was now doing battle with her growing pleasure in seeing him.

“What are you doing here?”

He looked toward the house and then back to her. “I was hoping to see you. I debated whether or not to throw rocks at your window like you see in old American films, but I didn't want to scare you.”

“So sneaking up on me in the dark was a better option?”

A corner of his mouth tipped up. “Sorry.”

The sound of the crickets seemed to get louder at their pause in conversation. His dark eyes looked like pools of black in his moonlit pale face. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand before stuffing it back in his pocket.

“I heard about the pub. Are you okay?”

He looked up at the sky and swallowed. “Yes and no,” he said softly, and she heard the slightest tremor when he spoke. He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest, as if he were in pain. He shook his head slowly.

“The damage at the pub can be fixed. I'm not even thinking about that.” He looked up at her with mournful eyes. “I'm so goddamn sorry, Quinn.”

She remained standing where she was and held her breath.

“I'm an ass.”

She wasn't going to dispute that fact, so she remained quiet.

“Since you left last night, I've been pulling my hair out. I swear to God, if I could just turn back the clock, I never would have let you leave my apartment.”

The anguish radiating off him was too much. She felt the tears start to pool in the corners of her eyes.

“Ewan…”

The mask that was normally firmly in place was gone. No more barrier, no more blank canvas. She saw every single emotion play clearly on his features. Anger, worry, guilt, doubt. But it was the fear that she saw that stole her breath.

“After you left my apartment, I realized what a terrible mistake I'd made. Then the whole fire happened, and I've been dealing with the aftermath ever since. I wanted to come after you right away. But I thought maybe I'd hurt your feelings so much that you wouldn't listen to me when I tried to apologize. And I need you to listen to me.”

She swallowed and nodded slowly. “Okay. I'm listening.” She tried to keep her voice steady although her heart raced in her chest.

“I'm a fucking control freak. After my parents shipped me off to my uncle, I learned to control everything around me. It's my defense mechanism. Working at the pub, fighting in the woods, my relationships with my family, my past relationships with women. Every single thing I do I can control. Until I met you. With you, I have control of nothing. And it scares the shit out of me.”

In two long strides, he was in front of her grasping her hands.

“You know the worst about me. You know all my secrets and all my shame. I'm nowhere close to perfect. But when I'm with you, you make me feel like I could be. I forget about all the shit that's happened to me.”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “I would have given anything to hear you say this to me, but—”

His big, warm hands squeezed hers tightly.

“I'll never agree that I'm good enough for you, but I'm so goddamn selfish that I want you anyway. And although I may not feel worthy, I'm going to try to be. Every single fucking day.”

She pressed her lips tight to keep a sob from breaking free. Ewan brushed his thumb gently over her cheekbone, and she turned her head into his palm, closing her eyes as a tear started to roll down her cheek.

She heard him curse on an exhale.

“If I still have a say, then you're not leaving. Forget about going anywhere for the foreseeable future because I'm not gonna let you. I have no idea what our future holds, but all I know is that since you've been in my life, mine's been a whole lot sweeter. And I've kinda gotten a taste for this sweet shit, and I like it. Quinn, please look at me.”

She opened her eyes and met his intense gaze. Gone were the dark emotions that had clouded his eyes mere moments earlier.

“It wasn't until you left my apartment and I felt I'd truly lost you that I realized you're the best part of me,” he said.

Quinn raised her hands to his chest and felt his heart pounding.

“I've been fighting this since the moment I met you in that alley. But my God, Quinn, you've won the fight. I've finally been defeated by a girl almost half my size. And I'd gladly tell anyone who'd listen.”

She laughed through more tears. “Defeated sounds like you didn't want me to win.”

“Fair enough. How would you like me to say it? You've trounced me? Knocked me flat on my back? Thoroughly ruined my undefeated record?”

“How about saying I just plain kicked your ass?”

He smiled, and this time, it reached all the way to his eyes. The dimples on his cheeks shined.

Quinn just wanted to be still and soak up this moment. Even though her thoughts were jumbled together, her overwhelming sense of relief was far greater than any other emotion.

“So you want me to stay?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes.”

The smile on his face and the genuine look in his eyes told Quinn he meant what he said. Gone was the horrible, agonizing ache in her chest, and she could have sworn she felt her heart expand.

“All right then,” she said, finally allowing herself to smile.

Watching him, she saw his smile fall, but the warmth stayed in his eyes. Even with a slight stubble and messy hair, he was still the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. He lowered his head and softly pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow and gentle.

Of all the wonderful things he'd said to her, this kiss told her everything else she needed to know.

With each sweep of his tongue against hers and every pulse of his lips, she heard every word that he didn't say. He'd say the actual words aloud when he was ready; she wasn't worried about that.