caught her off guard. “It’s nice of you to offer, but it’s mostly donkey work. Clearing out all the crap the old tenants have left behind.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to chew up all your time. You’re only home for the weekend.”
Plus I’m a little out of practice putting on my game face when you’re around. Witness the fact that I’ve got goose bumps just because you’re standing a few feet away, smiling at me.
“I came home to help you, Ames. I’m all yours for the weekend.” He walked past her toward the entrance. “Want to show me what needs doing?”
He disappeared inside the building. She stared after him, thrown.
It’s no big deal, Parker. A few hours aren’t going to
kill you. It’s not like you’re going to suddenly jump on him after sixteen years of self-restraint.
Sliding her hands into her back pockets, she followed him into the corridor.
The power wouldn’t be connected until Monday, but there was enough light filtering through the archway to the foyer and the propped-open back door to see what they were up against. She gestured toward the moldering piles of carpet, tattered cartons, broken furniture and other flotsam and jetsam littering the floor. The worst of it had been masked by the shadows last night, but now it was revealed for what it was: a lot of backbreaking work.
“Like I said, it’s mostly donkey work.”
He surveyed the space with his hands on his hips. Then he glanced at her. “You realize you’re going to owe me dinner after this, right?”
“How does McDonald’s sound?”
“Inadequate.”
“I’ll see what else I can come up with.”
Quinn gave her a dry look before reaching for the waistband of his sweater and pulling it over his head. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt underneath, the soft fabric molding his shoulders and chest and belly. She deliberately looked away.
Nothing to see here. Please move on.
“Let’s get this party started, city boy,” she said.
IT HAD BEEN A LONG TIME since Quinn had used his muscles for anything except lifting weights at the gym. It felt good to do something real for a change. To get out of his head and lose himself in the rhythms of physical labor.
By midday they’d cleared more than half of the debris from the main theatre and the balcony section. They walked across the road to get sandwiches for lunch and sat on the marble steps to eat, talking occasionally but mostly just eating and thinking their own thoughts.
For the first time in a long time, something inside Quinn relaxed. He felt … okay. As though he was exactly where he needed to be.
He glanced at Amy. She had a far-off look in her eyes as she gazed around the foyer while she munched on her sandwich. A faint smile curled his mouth. No doubt she was imagining the foyer as it should be. Or turning over some other notion in her mind. You never knew with Amy.
He liked that she didn’t feel compelled to fill every lull with meaningless conversation. It was one of the things he’d always appreciated about her.
Lisa, on the other hand, couldn’t tolerate silence. She was always the first to talk if there was a pause in the conversation. When they’d lived together the radio or stereo had always been on, music blaring to fill up the empty corners of the house. In the months before she’d left she’d progressed to leaving the TV on while they ate dinner. She’d claimed she found it comforting. Even though it had sometimes driven him nuts, he’d tolerated it because he’d wanted her to be happy.
Sitting next to Amy, he belatedly realized that his soon-to-be ex-wife had been hiding behind all that noise. Disguising her guilt and excitement over her affair, creating a buffer between them. And he’d been so busy bending over backward to please her that he hadn’t noticed she’d been pulling away from him.
“You okay?” Amy asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You’re frowning.”
“No, I’m not.” He made an effort to smooth his forehead.
She was silent for a beat. “Want to talk about it?”
She was sitting so close he could see the gold flecks in her eyes when she turned to look at him. He studied her long lashes, the curve of her cheek, the turned-up end of her nose. Her face was as familiar to him as his own. More so, in some ways, since he’d spent a hell of a lot more time looking at her over the years than he had looking in the mirror.
“You don’t want to hear me bitch and moan.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it.”
He glanced down at his hands. “Not much to say, really.”
“Are you angry?”
“Yes. Of course I am. She cheated on me for two years. Lied to me.”
“Your pride’s hurt. You feel humiliated.” It was both a question and a statement.
He glared at her but she just cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he finally said.
“Do you miss her?”
He frowned, focusing on his hands again. He’d skinned his knuckles earlier and he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the raw skin.
Did he miss Lisa? The sound of her brisk footsteps on the polished floors. Her ready laughter. Her eternal restlessness and need to go one better, one better, one better.
“Not as much as I should,” he said.
That shut Amy up. He glanced at her. She was picking at a worn patch on the knee of her jeans.
“Shocked you?” he asked.
“No. I guess. I always thought you and Lisa were happy. Whenever I visited, you always seemed to be. Which was why I was so surprised last night.”
“We were, for a while. But Lisa always wanted more. Bigger house. Better office. Faster car.”
Amy nodded. She knew Lisa almost as well as he did. She knew how ambitious Lisa had always been, how much she’d wanted to get ahead.
“And you didn’t want any of that stuff?” Amy asked.
“Sure I did. Up to a point. But there are other things in life. Family. Children. Having a life, instead of spending every freaking hour at the office or at some client function, trying to drum up more business.”
He could hear how resentful and angry he sounded. Amy didn’t need all this crap dumped on her.
“It’s okay,”
