Fated Love Read online

  “Why, Dr. Maguire,” Honor laughed, charmed by the genuine blush that suffused Quinn’s face. “I never would have imagined that a stunning butch like you would be afraid of anything.”

  Quinn’s mouth dropped open at precisely the same instant that Honor’s eyes grew wide with shock.

  Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that.

  Did she just say that I was stunning?

  “I mean...that is...”

  “Ah...I...”

  Honor finally recovered her voice, if not her composure. She pointed over her head with the hammer. “Shall we?”

  Quinn nodded, then realized that she still held the ladder balanced on her shoulder and quickly moved forward. She found level ground for the foot supports and braced the top against the tree limb. Just looking up made her queasy. As Honor stepped onto the first rung, she murmured, “I’m quite happy to be out-butched in this particular instance, Dr. Blake. As unusual as that may be.”

  A flush rose up the back of Honor’s neck. “Just hold steady.”

  “Don’t worry,” Quinn said firmly. “I’m not letting go.”

  Honor turned and looked down into Quinn’s eyes. She found the calm strength in them comforting. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  As Honor made her way nimbly up the ladder, Arly appeared by Quinn’s side. “Hi, Quinn.”

  “Hi Arly.” Quinn spared Arly a glance before looking back up to where Honor now leaned out to one side, screwing a small hook into the horizontal portion of the tree limb. “How you doing?”

  “My stitches itch.”

  “Uh-huh.” Quinn couldn’t take her eyes off Honor. Don’t stretch out so far. Jesus!

  “What’s my mom doing up there?”

  “She’s hanging a wind chime.”

  “Is that what’s making that noise?”

  “Uh-huh.” Quinn’s throat was dry and her pulse racing. Honor’s thighs were braced against the ladder, but she wasn’t holding on since she needed both arms to affix the nylon loop over the hook. Hurry up. Just come down. If you stay up there much longer, I’m going to embarrass myself.

  “Neat.” Having satisfied her curiosity, Arly ran off to rejoin her friends.

  To Quinn’s complete and utter relief, Honor started to back down the ladder. Now that her anxiety was abating, Quinn was able to appreciate the toned thighs and enticing backside coming her way. She stood with her legs spread on either side of the ladder and both arms holding it just above shoulder level to steady it. As Honor descended, she unconsciously slid down between Quinn’s arms until her body was between Quinn and the ladder. As Honor’s hair brushed Quinn’s cheek, Quinn’s mouth was millimeters from Honor’s neck. Her breasts pressed lightly against Honor’s back. If she moved her hips forward half an inch, her pelvis would rest against the soft swell of Honor’s buttocks.

  And Quinn very much wanted to do just that. She could smell Honor’s sweet scent—spices and fruit and some deeper aroma, like warm fertile earth just turned in the sun. There were tiny beads of sweat collected along the edge of her jaw, and Quinn wanted to lick them off. Her heart pounded wildly, her stomach did one slow roll, and everything from her waist down turned to fire. She gasped sharply, surprised by the hard pulse of desire.

  “Quinn.” Honor’s voice was pitched low, husky.

  “Yes?” The word came out on a warm breath that lifted the hair at the base of Honor’s neck.

  “I can’t get to the ground unless you move.” Honor turned her head, her lips almost brushing Quinn’s ear. Quinn’s body was like a furnace, throwing off enough heat to warm her all the way through. To sear her in places that had been untouched for so long that the sensation terrified her. She trembled. “Please.”

  “I’m sorry,” Quinn said quickly, stepping back. Holy God. What am I doing? She’s married! But why doesn’t it feel that way?

  Honor made it down and turned. Her voice was shaking, but she smiled. “No problem. Thanks for the spot.”

  “Sure.”

  Quinn lifted a hand toward Honor’s face, and Honor’s eyes grew round. Carefully, Quinn brushed her fingers through Honor’s hair. “You’ve got a leaf in your hair.”

  Honor held her breath as gentle fingers extracted the offending object. In her mind’s eye, she could see Quinn’s hand gently cradling a beating heart. Such wonderful hands.

  “There you go.” Quinn released the leaf and it fluttered away on the breeze. Her eyes bore into Honor’s. You’re so beautiful.

  “I should get this stuff back to the garage.” Honor indicated the ladder and tools, but she didn’t move. I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t.

  Quinn shook her head. “I’ll do it. I think your presence is required elsewhere.”

  Honor looked in the direction that Quinn indicated. Arly was waving frantically, trying to get her attention. It looked as if she was ready to go into the pool. “So it seems. I should go.”

  “Yes.”

  Motionless, Quinn watched as Honor walked to the edge of the pool and sat down, dangling her legs over the side while Arly joined half a dozen children in the water. The sunlight sparkled on her hair, and Quinn remembered the way those soft strands had felt sliding through her fingers just minutes before. It felt like forever before the trembling in her legs subsided enough for her to move.

  Chapter Eight

  Honor watched the eddies swirl and splash around her feet as she circled her legs in the clear blue water. Those churning currents echoed the turmoil in her depths, as if she were poised to break into a million bright, sparkling droplets and fly away on the wind. She clutched the edge of the pool so tightly her knuckles turned white. What’s happening to me?

  “Mom! Watch me, Mom,” Arly called.

  Dutifully, Honor raised her head and smiled as her daughter cannonballed into the deep end of the pool. Terry had taught Arly to swim as an infant, and she was as comfortable in water as she was in air. Honor nodded encouragingly when Arly broke through the surface and looked expectantly in Honor’s direction, but her mind was elsewhere. She turned her head a fraction and glanced back toward the house. Quinn still stood beneath the maple, the ladder upright by her side, one arm hooked over a rung. She was incredibly attractive standing there, looking directly at Honor. Looking at me like I’m the only one here.

  Quickly, Honor turned away. Her heart pounded, and she still sensed the faint pressure of Quinn’s body against her back. As Quinn’s chest had brushed fleetingly against her, she had felt the unmistakable impression of nipples hardening beneath soft fabric. Quinn’s, and her own. She closed her eyes, shivering. The rush of arousal that had accompanied that brief contact was overwhelming. It was the last thing she had expected to feel. The furthest thing from her desires. She had neither sought nor welcomed the excitement, but her body had embraced it as naturally as the next breath. She was stunned, horrified, and completely undone. I don’t want this. I don’t.

  Mechanically, Quinn carried the ladder and tools back to the garage and stowed them away. She pulled down the door and then stood by the corner of the building to look out over the wide rectangular yard. A split-rail fence, nearly obscured by rhododendrons and small shrubs, ran along the opposite side and rear, isolating the property from the view of neighbors. A wooden picnic table sat under the huge maple tree, and lawn chairs were scattered about nearby. A long expanse of grass ran down the gently sloping rear of the property, and a swimming pool occupied a portion of that area. The pool was currently the center of activity, with most of the children in it, and a fair number of their parents sitting nearby and observing.

  But only one person captured Quinn’s attention.

  It was as if no one existed for her except Honor. The pull that drew her to Honor had been present since the first moment they had met, and although she didn’t understand it, the feeling was too overpowering to deny. She wanted to be sitting there in the sun beside her, watching the children swim, talking of nothing and everything. She wanted the
hand that curled around the damp tiled edge of the pool to be resting on her thigh, the way it had done so briefly in the car. Lightly, casually, confidently—as if she were Honor’s own.

  Quinn made her way across the yard and settled down at the picnic table, straddling the bench sideways, her right arm stretched out along the slatted tabletop. From where she sat, she could see Honor in profile and imagined the faint perspiration dewed on her skin. She could still smell her, rich and tantalizing. She could still feel her, warm and strong as she gently rested against Quinn’s body.

  Involuntarily, her nipples tightened as they had done at that first startling contact, and ached. Her fingers trembled as they lay against the rain-grayed wood. Her stomach tightened with urgency and need, and she hungered for something she had never known. Watching Honor lightly stroke the hair from her daughter’s forehead, Quinn wanted to rest her head in Honor’s lap and feel those tender fingers soothe her sorrows. She wanted to lie with her in the dark, in the aftermath of passion, and confess all her secrets.

  This is impossible. For so many reasons. Then why don’t I want the feelings to stop?

  But she knew why. She watched as Honor lifted her hand again to brush stray strands of hair from her cheek. The unconscious movement was both gentle and sure. Somehow she knew Honor’s hands would feel the same on her skin. And she wanted that, and all that would follow.

  Phyllis intercepted Linda on her way out of the house with another tray of appetizers. “Quite the party, my dear.”

  “Having fun?”

  “Scads.” Phyllis, who was dressed for the occasion in loose tan cotton slacks, a brightly colored embroidered blouse, and an enormous straw farmer’s hat, surveyed the crowd. “I notice there’s an interesting-looking newcomer, too.”

  Linda followed Phyllis’s gaze and saw Quinn seated at the picnic table, gazing toward the pool where Honor sat with her legs in the water. Quinn’s face was a study in desire. “Phew. Hot out, isn’t it?”

  “Mmm. She seems to be enchanted by Honor.”

  “Uh...” Lord, this is Honor’s mother-in-law!

  “That wouldn’t be...Quinn, would it?”

  “How did you know that?” Linda turned surprised eyes to Phyllis.

  “Two reasons.” Phyllis reached over and snagged a cream cheese–covered celery stick. “Arly hasn’t stopped talking about her since the day she got her head cracked, and every time her name is mentioned, Honor gets cranky.” Plus, Honor hasn’t been sleeping well, and that young woman over there looks hungry to the bone.

  “Yes, that’s Quinn. I guess you know she’s a new ER attending.”

  “Uh-huh. I also gather she and Honor aren’t getting along?” Phyllis shaded her eyes, automatically checking for Arly in the pool. Honor, she noticed, looked shell-shocked. Something has happened, all right. Is it that handsome girl who’s turned you inside out, sweetie?

  Linda hesitated, reluctant to discuss Honor without her friend’s knowledge.

  “Don’t mind me, I’m just being nosy.” Phyllis patted her arm understandingly. “And you don’t have to tell. I just couldn’t help noticing that Quinn hasn’t looked anywhere except at Honor for the last ten minutes.”

  Carefully, Linda asked, “Does it...you know, bother you?”

  Phyllis was silent a moment, and Linda said quickly, “God, me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry, Phyl. That was inappropr—”

  “No, it wasn’t. I don’t mind you asking.” Phyllis patted her arm again. “Most people wouldn’t ask because they’re afraid that mentioning the dead will bring up memories, as if we don’t always carry some part of them with us.” She smiled. “Talking about Terry, thinking about her, is not a hardship for me. She was the light of my life, just as Honor and Arly are now.”

  “Could you be my mom?” Linda asked, meaning it. Her own mother still refused to acknowledge her marriage and her children.

  “Don’t you know that I think of you and Robin and Kim and Denny as family, too?” Phyllis wrapped an arm around Linda’s waist. “Just as much as my two girls.”

  Linda just nodded, afraid to speak lest she cry.

  Phyllis stared across the yard at Quinn, a stranger, who looked at Honor the way Terry once had. She felt many things, protective most of all. Honor carried scars, still bled from them on occasion, and Phyllis would do anything to see that she was not hurt again. As if I could prevent it. If you live, you risk being hurt. If you never take the risk... She sighed.

  “Does it bother me that someone might be interested in Honor? That Honor might be?” Phyllis watched her granddaughter swim over to Honor and look up at her with a brilliant smile. Honor leaned down and brushed the wet hair from Arly’s forehead, saying something that made the child grin. “Can you imagine how many times I’ve wished that Terry could see that child grow and help raise her with Honor?”

  “No, I can’t,” Linda said softly. “But I know how many times I’ve wished for it.”

  “I suppose I might have fussed, five years ago. Maybe even three years ago.” Phyllis shook her head. “Honor is lonely, and she has no idea how deeply.”

  “Yes.”

  Phyllis reached up and took the tray from Linda’s hands. “So no, it doesn’t bother me. Not if it turns out to be the right woman.”

  Linda watched Phyllis carry the food down to the picnic table and offer the hors d’oeuvres to Quinn. Quinn Maguire. Who are you?

  “Hello,” Phyllis said, sliding the tray onto the table in front of Quinn. “I’m Phyllis Murphy, Arly’s grandmother.”

  Quinn jumped to her feet, extending her hand and hoping that the woman hadn’t noticed her staring at Honor. “Quinn Maguire, Ms. Murphy. How do you do?”

  Smiling, Phyllis took Quinn’s hand, finding her courtly manners charming. “I haven’t had anyone stand up for me in a very long time.”

  Quinn grinned. “The world is being overrun with heathens.”

  “Indeed.” Laughing, Phyllis slid onto the seat, patting the bench next to her. “Please.”

  Settling back down, Quinn said, “Arly seems to be doing well.”

  “Yes, famously. Speaking of which, you’re her new hero.”

  Quinn blushed. “She was the hero. Along with Honor.”

  “Honor?”

  “She was great. Sometimes the hardest part of taking care of children is dealing with the parents. Kids take their cues from them, and if you have a hysterical parent, it’s almost impossible to keep the child calm.” Quinn’s face took on a distant expression. “I’ve had to take children to the operating room and sedate them to close minor wounds that I could’ve done in the trauma admitting area, except their parents wouldn’t even let me try.”

  “I imagine it helps when the parents are doctors, like Honor.”

  “Don’t you believe it,” Quinn pronounced with a laugh. “God save me from medical parents. But Honor was fabulous, calm and steady, and she let me do my job.”

  “She must trust you, then, if she let you take care of Arly.”

  Unconsciously, Quinn glanced back to Honor, her gaze intent. “I hope so.”

  Phyllis smiled and reached for a carrot stick.

  “By the way,” Quinn asked. “What is Arly short for? I never noticed when I filled out her chart.”

  “It’s short for Arlyn, which is actually her middle name...her full name is Murphy Arlyn Blake.”

  “What a great name. I’m surprised no one calls her Murph.”

  Caught off guard, Phyllis gave a small start. Then, her voice soft, she said, “We probably would have, but that’s what most people called my daughter.”

  Quinn turned her attention from Honor and met Phyllis’s gaze. “Honor’s...spouse?”

  “Yes. Terry.”

  That’s what most people called my daughter. Quinn didn’t need an explanation; she saw it in Phyllis’s eyes. Oh, Honor. “I’m so terribly sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  Quinn didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know what to feel.
Tragedy was nothing new to her; in her specialty in particular, it was a common occurrence. Most of the time she kept the heartbreak of human frailty at a distance, doing what she could with the gifts she had been given, accepting that fate or circumstance were things she could not change. Sometimes, however, for reasons she could not discern, someone would reach past the barricades of her defenses and touch her heart. Their pain would become her pain, until she was able to put it away again and carry on. But right now, all she felt was pain. Honor’s and Phyllis’s and Arly’s.

  Watching her, Phyllis saw the flood of emotions cross her face and swirl in the depths of her incredibly blue eyes. She was comforted by the unspoken understanding, and some of her concern for Honor’s well-being abated. She had no idea what life held in store for herself, much less for Honor and this intense young stranger—if anything at all. But she could see the extent of Quinn’s compassion, and she had seen the way that Quinn had looked at Honor. If anything could draw Honor completely back into life, it would be that combination of love and desire.

  Phyllis patted Quinn’s arm, as if she were the one who needed solace. Then she smiled. “Robin is the best barbecue chef in the entire neighborhood. When lunch is ready, you must be sure to sit with Honor and Arly and me. Arly will love it.”

  Surprised, Quinn agreed before she could think to say anything else. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Now I’m going to go relieve Honor of lifeguard duty for a little while.”

  As Phyllis rose, Quinn stood as well. “It was very nice meeting you.”

  “You too, my dear.”

  Quinn contemplated following Phyllis down to the pool as a pretense to speak to Honor again. However, a voice at her elbow stopped her.

  “Hey, good-lookin’. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Surprised, Quinn looked around and found Mandy standing close enough that Quinn’s shoulder brushed Mandy’s breasts as she turned. One quick glance down revealed another spandex top, this one stopping at her navel, and low-cut skintight shorts. Her body was as buff as Quinn remembered.