Trinity Falls (8 page)

CHAPTER 11

Ean responded to the summons from his front doorbell, but first stopped to check the security window. What was Ramona doing on his front steps? He thought he'd made it clear that he wasn't interested in reconciling with her.

He pulled the door open and stepped aside.

“Oh.” Ramona turned and stepped hastily past him into the foyer. She placed her right hand delicately in front of her nose. “Were you working in the yard?”

Ean glanced down at his sweat-soaked blue T-shirt. “No, I just ran ten miles.”

Ramona shook her head. “Ean, it's Sunday morning. Don't you know all roads lead to church?”

“Not for me.” Ean locked the front door.

Ramona took another step back. “You're not in New York anymore. People in Trinity Falls will talk if you don't go to church.”

Ean led the way to the kitchen. “Since when do you care what people say?” He refilled his glass with ice water from the refrigerator. “Would you like some?”

“When were you planning to take a shower?” Ramona's voice came from the doorway.

“When were you planning to leave?” Ean gulped more water.

Ramona's expression darkened. She lowered her hand. “I came to talk about what you said at the restaurant last night.”

“Which was what?”

“You don't remember?”

Ean drained the water, then put his empty glass in the dishwasher. “I said a lot of things.”

“You said you weren't going back to New York.”

“I've said that before.” He turned from the dishwasher and settled his hips against the kitchen counter. “I've meant it every time.”

“And I meant what I said, too.” Ramona crossed her arms over her chest.

“Which was what?”

Ramona huffed. “That I will
break up
with you if you don't return to New York with me.”

Ean gave her a dry smile. “You broke up with me six years ago when
you
left New York.”

“And I'll break up with you again.”

How would that work? “That's probably for the best.”

Ramona worked her mouth several times before words came out. “What do you mean?”

“Ramona, I've changed. I'm not the same guy you dated in high school. We want different things now.”

“But you want the
wrong
things.”

“They're not wrong for me.”

She marched across the kitchen and grabbed his forearms. “You've got to return to New York. With me, things will be different.”

Ean pulled free of her hold. “Our relationship wouldn't work, Ramona. We're too different now.”

She retreated as she studied his face. “I know my arguing with Quincy made you uncomfortable.”

What was behind her sudden change of topic? Ean played along. “Why were you two at each other's throat all night?”

Ramona shrugged. “
He
was arguing.
I
was just defending myself.”

Ean looked beyond Ramona's pouty expression to the temper in her dark eyes. “Since when does Quincy argue with you? In high school, he barely spoke with you.”

Surprise wiped away Ramona's anger. “I can't believe you don't know.”

“What?”

“You
really
don't know?” Ramona rolled her eyes. “Quincy's in love with me. He has been since high school.”

“What?” Ean's head spun.

“That's probably why he was angry with me last night. He knows that now you're here, he doesn't stand a chance with me. There's no need for you to feel threatened.”

Ean frowned. “I'm surprised, not threatened. Quincy's a good guy. You should give him a chance.”

Ramona's eyes stretched wide. “You're
giving me
to
Quincy
?”

“No.” Had she screeched this much in high school? No wonder his mother didn't want her as a daughter-in-law. “But you could do a lot worse than Quincy.”

Ramona lifted her black purse higher on her shoulder. “Is this some sort of joke? Don't take too long to come to your senses, Ean. You could find that you've lost the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Ramona stomped from the kitchen. Moments later the front door opened, then slammed shut.

Ean straightened away from the kitchen counter and strode to the foyer. He locked his mother's front door, then mounted the stairs to the shower. Quincy was one of his best friends; but since Ean had returned from New York, that friendship had been strained. Was Ramona the cause of that? Did Quincy really have a crush on her in high school? Was he in love with her now? If so, why hadn't he ever said anything?

There was only one way to get answers to those questions. He wasn't looking forward to the confrontation.

 

 

Hours later, Ean pressed the doorbell to Quincy's two-story townhome. It was like the signal to the second round of a prizefighter's match—the prize being a friendship he valued too much to let go. The first round in Quincy's office hadn't gone well. He had higher hopes for this morning, especially with the new information.

Quincy greeted him with a scowl that ground his hopes to dust. “Why are you here?”

Not the welcome he'd hoped for. “Are you going to let me in?”

Quincy hesitated before stepping back.

Ean entered the living room. He'd been to Quincy's town house a few times during his brief visits home. The living room wasn't large, but it was comfortable. He crossed the beige Berber carpet and settled onto the thick brown sofa. The honey wood furnishings created a soothing environment, which was at odds for such an angry man.

Across the room, suspended from the wall, was a large, flat-screen, high-definition television. Beside it was a tall matching bookcase crammed with history and professional journals. On the coffee table in front of him lay recent copies of sports magazines.

Quincy propped his shoulder against the archway separating the living room from the rest of the ground floor. “What do you want?”

Ean sized up his witness, from his shaved head to his bare feet, before laying out the evidence in support of his case. “You and Ramona got into it at the restaurant last night.”

“Are you here to ask for an apology for your girlfriend?” Quincy wiped all expression from his face.

The former running back used to do the same thing before lining up against their opponent's defense. Quincy didn't believe in giving anything away. So how had Ramona known Quincy had had a crush on her? Was it true or was Ramona speculating?

“She's not my girlfriend.”

A flicker of surprise blinked across Quincy's rugged features before he masked it. “If you aren't here for an apology, what do you want?”

“Is it true you've been in love with Ramona since high school?”

Quincy's stunned silence was all the confirmation Ean needed.
How could I not have known?

“Who told you that?” Quincy's voice was tight.

“She did.”

Quincy squeezed his eyes shut. “And who told her?” Every word seemed forced from his lips.

Ean stood, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his gray jeans. “She figured it out.”

Surprise, confusion and hurt crossed Quincy's face. “Great.”

“Is that why you've been pissed since I came home?”

Quincy paced across the room, stopping in the archway between the living room and the dining area, with his back toward Ean. “I thought you were going to reconcile.”

“Q, why didn't you make your move when Ramona returned six years ago?”

Quincy spun to face him. “Oh, so you think I'd have a clear shot, once the great Ean Fever removed himself from the running? Thanks for your permission.”

“Man,
she
broke up with
me.
” Why did people keep forgetting that?

“And now you're back.”

“But Ramona and I aren't together.”

Quincy rubbed a palm across his broad, dark forehead. “Not because she isn't trying.”

“What have you been doing to win her over?”

Quincy threw his hands up. “What could I do? I can't compete with you. Besides, you said she knows I'm attracted to her. Well, she never said anything to me. Obviously, she's not interested.”

Ean rubbed the back of his neck. “So instead of even trying, you're just going to blame me for your failed love life and end our friendship.”

Quincy looked away. “I'm done with living in your shadow.”

Ean's eyes stretched wide. “What are you talking about?”

Quincy returned his glare to Ean. “You think you won those high school football championships by yourself? You weren't the only player on the field.”

“
We
were the Terrible Trio. No one ever singled me out.”

“You were the star quarterback. Everyone wanted to interview you. All the girls wanted to go out with you. Everyone's parents wanted their sons to be like you.”

The accusations were so absurd they made Ean's head hurt. “That's not the way I remember it.”

Quincy quirked a brow. “Then you're remembering it wrong. Ask Darius.”

That scared him. Did Darius harbor the same resentments toward him that Quincy had? It didn't seem that way.

Ean studied his friend, seeing him with fresh eyes. This wasn't the same guy who'd lined up against much bigger opponents and run through them. “You're a coward, Q.”

Quincy's features tightened even as he shrugged. “If it makes you feel better to think so.”

“It doesn't. You used to be fearless. You went after whatever you wanted, whether it was a football championship, a college scholarship or a doctorate. When did you lose your nerve?”

“I haven't.”

Ean saw the heat of anger in his best friend's eyes. Good. “Or maybe Ramona isn't that important to you. I can understand. I don't know what I saw in her, either.”

“Don't blame her for your failures.” Quincy's response was swift and vicious.

“Don't blame me for yours.” Ean turned to leave. If their friendship was over, he'd accept it. There wasn't anything more to say.

Quincy's voice stopped Ean in his tracks. “Don't insult her just because she dumped you.”

Finally, someone believed that Ramona had dumped him—although why that should make him happy...

Ean looked over his shoulder. “If you want her, fight for her.”

He had enough on his plate without adding Responsible for Quincy's Love Life to it.

Ean walked out of Quincy's townhome, pulling the door closed behind him. That made two confrontations down—Ramona and Quincy. One to go. But before he dealt with the third confrontation, he needed more information, and he knew just the person to approach for it.

 

 

“Can I buy you lunch?” Ean stood on the top step outside of Megan's front door. He held a bag of fast food aloft. The scents emanating from the bag reminded him he'd eaten breakfast almost five hours before, and it hadn't been much of a meal.

Megan's skeptical gaze swung from Ean to the bag. She stepped aside to let him enter her home. “Why don't I make lunch for us?”

A rush of relief eased the tension in Ean's shoulders. He accepted Megan's welcome and crossed into her home. “I thought you liked fast food.”

Megan's full pink lips struggled with a smile. Her gaze dipped to the bag. “I draw the line when there's more grease than meat on the sandwich.”

Ean looked at the stained bag. “I guess you have a point.”

“You guess?”
Her chocolate eyes shone with laughter. “I think I'm getting to you just in time to save your arteries.”

He followed her across the sunny foyer, past the causal living room, through the formal dining room and into the cozy kitchen. Megan's home woke half-forgotten memories for Ean: meeting Ramona's grandparents and nervously seeking their approval; picking up Ramona for a Saturday night movie.

Megan had changed the rooms a bit, with new furnishings and flooring, but they retained the same warmth and charm. It was a sharp contrast with Ramona's coolly modern condo.

Ean's gaze toured the kitchen's counters and cabinets, comparing his memories to the images around him. The color scheme had remained the same—blond wood cabinets, white-marble counters and pale green walls. But the appliances had been upgraded with a sleek, energy-efficient chrome refrigerator, oven and dishwasher. It was still a familiar, comfortable room—a harmonious blend of the past and present.

He wandered farther into the room and put the fast-food bag into the trash. “The cookie jar is gone.”

A quick grin flashed across Megan's lush lips. “Blame that on your mother's baking. Store-bought cookies aren't appealing after tasting your mother's pastries.”

The kitchen was crowded with the scents of vegetables and seasonings. Across the room, Megan stirred the fragrant contents of a pot on the stove. The long, neat lines of her slender figure seemed calm and comfortable. She conveyed a serenity that invited him to relax after his contentious meeting with Quincy. “What are you making?”

“Chicken stew.”

His mouth watered. If the meal tasted as good as it smelled, he was in for a treat. “What can I do to help?”

Megan inclined her head toward the cupboards beside him. “You can set the table.”

Grateful for something to do to keep his mind occupied with thoughts other than Megan's firm curves and long limbs, Ean collected the dishes and silverware for the table settings. He gave Megan two soup bowls before crossing to the refrigerator. He poured two glasses of iced tea and added them to the settings. He also set out a plate of crackers to accompany the stew.