perfect present for her future mother-in-law’s big six-oh, but now she wasn’t sure Nora would want anything from her.
“As you know, the last six months hasn’t been easy on her. Hell, it hasn’t been easy on any of us, but I don’t want to let this slide by without a celebration. My family’s all so busy with the building of the new restaurant and Callum’s expansion plans that I was wondering if you would organize a party for her?”
He didn’t mention his dad’s death in the equation, but Bailey suddenly wondered if grief over the shocking loss of his father was part of the reason Quinn had broken the rules and slept with her. Maybe none of them had been thinking straight.
When she hesitated, he added, “We’d pay you, of course. I just want to do something really special for Mom.”
She’d been going to refuse, but his heartfelt words and obvious love for his mother got to her. And, if she were honest, surprised her. Also, this was the grandmother of her baby they were talking about. She felt guilty enough about her secret, but, even if she did come clean eventually, right now it was too soon after she and Callum had broken up. She needed time to get her head around this situation herself and didn’t want to be the cause of family disharmony, so perhaps the least she could do was help make Nora’s birthday special.
“And,” Quinn continued, sounding like a salesman who thought he was in danger of losing a sale, “it’ll be a chance for you to show the others your impeccable talent for creating magical events. That way, when the restaurant opens and we start holding functions at the distillery, everyone will be more favorably disposed to throw the business your way. I know you were interested in the McKinnel event contract.”
She was interested in working with the famed McKinnel distillery—was, as in past tense, pre-baby. Now she wasn’t so sure working in such close proximity to Quinn was a good idea. He did crazy things to her insides. Then again, just because he’d approached her, just because he’d be paying the bills for the birthday bash, didn’t mean they’d need to spend much time together. Attending parties might be Quinn’s thing, but he generally left the organizing to others.
“Okay. What kind of event were you thinking?”
He slowly shrugged those big sexy shoulders and she tried not to stare. “Intimate but special. A few of her closest friends and family. A band, maybe a small dance floor. I was thinking we could hire a small marquee and hold the party at the distillery. If it’s still cold, we’ll also hire some heaters for the marquee. I’m sure Lachlan would be interested in catering and testing out some of his new recipes.”
“You haven’t asked him yet?”
He rubbed his lips one over the other. “I wanted to run the idea past you first.”
“Why me? There are other event planners in the vicinity.”
“Because you’re the best.”
The way he said best, and the way he stared intently at her as he did so, wreaked havoc with her already errant hormones. It was almost as if he wasn’t simply referring to her work, but that thought was ridiculous. She tried to push it out of her mind.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she joked.
His lips curled into another grin. “Is that a yes?”
She nodded while silently questioning her sanity. “Have you decided on a date yet?”
“How about we meet for lunch tomorrow and talk details then? You can tell me what else you need from me to get started.”
Lunch? He sounded like he might be a whole lot more involved in the planning than she’d imagined. Her stomach flipped at the thought of spending too much time with Quinn, but maybe working with him to organize this party would help her body and her hormones settle down. Because if she did tell him about the baby, they’d be linked forever and she’d need to be able to talk to him about their child’s welfare without harboring a head full of dirty thoughts.
“Sure, lunch sounds great. Why don’t we meet in Bend and we can choose a theme and then go to the stationers to select the invitations.” Needing to keep in control of this situation, she made it sound like a statement, not a question. If they met in Bend, it would also be less likely that they’d be seen together by someone who knew them.
“I’ll swing by and pick you up on my way.”
“No.” That would make it more like a date—not that Quinn McKinnel did dating, but she needed to protect her own emotions. And being squished against Quinn on the back of his motorcycle would be like throwing her emotions to the piranhas. This was purely a business deal. “I’ll probably do some shopping before or after.” She named a lesser-known café in Bend and a time.
For a moment Quinn looked as if he might argue about not picking her up, but in the end he conceded. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pushed himself off the coffee table and towered above her. Lord, he was tall—all the McKinnels were tall and good-looking, but if they were giving out awards, he’d win.
She put down her milk shake and went to stand.
“No, don’t get up.” He put out a hand to stop her. “I’ll see myself out. You get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Too tired to fight, Bailey let Quinn go and thankfully fatigue consumed her so that she fell asleep quickly and didn’t have time to worry or think about Quinn, the baby or what she’d just agreed to do.
* * *
“Well, hello there.” Callum looked up from behind the tasting bar as Quinn strolled toward him. He had the smug smile on his face—the smile that had been permanently in place since he’d shacked up with Chelsea—and Quinn guessed that one word about the baby would wipe it off. He’d have to tell his brother eventually, but announcing he’d gotten Bailey pregnant was probably not the smartest news to divulge when she hadn’t even told him yet.
Especially as he was still coming to terms with it himself.
Usually, he’d still be in bed at this time on a Saturday morning, but he hadn’t been able to sleep, his head too full with thoughts of Bailey, thoughts of a baby and thoughts of whether or not he really had it in him to be the type of dad he wanted to be.
“We don’t usually see you round here on the weekend,” Callum said as he rubbed at a smudge on the bar with the cuff of his shirt.
Since the warehouse shut down on the weekends, Quinn got Saturdays and Sundays off, whereas Callum and his other siblings who worked at the distillery—Sophie and Blair—worked pretty much 24/7. But that was their choice; he wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty about his. Their dad had been a workaholic (among other things) and in no way did Quinn want to emulate him. Ever since he was sixteen and walked in on his dad fucking a woman who wasn’t his mom, Quinn had vowed to never be like his father. But, in sleeping with Bailey, who hadn’t been available at the time, he’d been just like him.
And now they both needed to face the consequences.
“Is Sophie around?” he asked, ignoring his older brother’s observation.
“She’s grabbing coffees,” Callum said, jerking his thumb down the corridor in the direction of their small staff kitchen.
Before Quinn could
