Annmarie giggled as dread settled into the pit of Quinn’s stomach. He should have left. He shouldn’t be sitting here waiting for Lily, wanting to see her, wanting, just wanting, all the things he could never have.
Smiling, she came through the doorway an instant later, wrapped in that same thick robe she’d had on when she’d visited during the night. Until now, he hadn’t known it was lavender. The smile remained, but something changed in her eyes when her gaze lit on him. Was she glad to see him or wishing he’d left already?
“I’m having breakfast,” Annmarie returned.
“Cocoa Puffs,” Lily murmured, taking in the contents of the bowl. “Your Saturday treat on—”
“It’s not Saturday?” the child asked.
Lily tousled her hair. “You know it’s not.” She dipped a finger in her daughter’s hot chocolate, then licked off the gooey mess of the marshmallow before turning to Quinn. “I never would have figured you for a hot-chocolate kind of guy.”
He shrugged, images of licking her fingers destroying any hope he had of ignoring the flare of attraction between them. “When in Rome…you know.”
Lily moved away from him, wanting to put her arms around him and discovering that she had used up all her courage a couple of hours ago. Having him watch her with that troubled expression made her opt for pouring a cup of coffee. After adding cream and sugar to it, she sat next to him. “How’s your head?”
“Better.” He touched the bandage at his hairline. Without meeting her eyes he added, “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“I’m done,” Annmarie announced. “Can I give Sweetie Pie my milk now?”
Lily looked at her daughter, then the bowl of cereal-flavored milk she was holding up. “You may. Time to go get dressed, sweetie.”
Annmarie climbed down from her chair, set the bowl of milk on the floor near the window, then lifted the cat from the windowsill and set her in front of the bowl. When Annmarie skipped away, Lily glanced back at Quinn, giving in to her need and resting her hand over the top of his.
“Thanks to you,” she said, “I had the best sleep I’ve had in weeks.”
He grasped her fingers for an instant before letting them go, his gaze far too somber when he met hers.
She didn’t need the Ph.D. after her name to recognize the man was uncomfortable in the extreme. Her sisters had both lamented about awkward morning-afters. Personally, she had never experienced one. Though she had fallen asleep in the man’s arms, this morning didn’t count as a morning after, either.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “You?”
She caught his gaze. “Wishing—” She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Wishing I’d told you I wanted to make love. Wishing I were braver.”
Something in his eyes fractured and his jaw clenched. “I think you’re plenty brave. But the truth is, you don’t know anything about me, and I didn’t expect…didn’t have any way to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Are you crazy? From me. From a possible pregnancy.” He jumped to his feet and glared at her. “Or… For all you know, I could have HIV or—”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Or anything else?”
“No. But that’s not the point, damn it.”
She rose to her feet and took a step toward him. “Then what is?” When he glanced blankly at her, she added, “The point.”
“I’m not one of those strays you’re known for picking up.”
That baffling hurt was back in his eyes. “It never occurred to me that you were.” She took another step toward him.
He retreated a step. “Why in hell—”
“Did I climb into bed with you?” She shrugged, then told him the truth. “I’ve lived my whole life being the good girl, doing what was expected of me.” She took another step toward him and he backed up one. “That was the old me.” She closed the space between them until she could feel the heat from his body though they weren’t touching. “An aneurism in my husband’s brain burst while he was having lunch. Two days later he died.”
“I’m sorry,” Quinn murmured.
She met his gaze. “So am I. But you know what that taught me? Finally? That nothing is sure. That today is all there is. That you’d better grab what you want when you have the chance because tomorrow it could be all gone.” She touched one of the buttons of his shirt with her finger, not quite sure enough of herself to put her arms around him, but aching for him to give her some clue that she’d be welcome if she took that final tiny…huge…step into his arms.
Pretending to be far more courageous than she really was, she looked up and found him watching her with the eyes of a man being tortured. “So, that’s my regret. That I once again took time to think, instead of taking what I wanted. I’m so sick of being a coward.”
“That’s not true,” he said quietly. He held her gaze for a long moment, his eyes deeply searching hers. They held the colors of the earth and ocean and stormy sky, framed with lashes any woman would envy. “Not making love was for the best,” he finally said, glancing up when something behind Lily caught his attention.
She turned around and found Rosie at the doorway and headed for the cupboard where the crackers were kept.
“Good morning,” Lily said.
“Morning,” Rosie returned, reaching into the cupboard. She pulled down a package of soda crackers, then took a bite of one, giving them an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind me.”
“No problem.” He glanced down at Lily and managed to slip from between her and the counter. “I’ve got to go.”
“Cocoa Puffs isn’t much of a breakfast,” Lily said. “Let me make you something.”
“I really do need to…” His gaze caught hers once again.
“Go?” Rosie supplied, looking from him to Lily.
He nodded, pulling keys out of the pocket of his jeans.
“If you can give me about fifteen minutes, I can get dressed and go with you,” Lily said.
“I, uh, need to check with Hilda before going to work.”
“Fine. I thought you might.”
A flush crawled up his cheeks, and Lily realized he was trying to find a tactful way to leave without her. “I think I’d like to go home before going to work.”
“I can take you to work, Lily,” Rosie said, waving one of the crackers. “Another half dozen of these and I’ll
