More Than This (7 page)

Read More Than This Online

Authors: Shannyn Schroeder

 
Sunday afternoon, Ryan sat at his desk, sucking down his third cup of coffee. The
numbers on the spreadsheet in front of him blurred. The family dinner usually held
on Sundays had turned into a whole-day affair on Saturday to give Colin a proper welcome
home. Of all the things to pull him away from Quinn, he didn’t think Colin had been
worth it.
He didn’t believe Colin had reappeared out of some sense of family. He wanted something,
but Ryan couldn’t figure out what. As much as he’d wanted to press the issue last
night, their mother had been too happy to have Colin home.
Colin’s appearance made his mother happy, but Ryan couldn’t handle the gushing and
fussing. He couldn’t wait to escape the family dinner. Claiming bar business, he’d
thought he could get away. Colin following him to O’Leary’s last night had not been
part of the plan. He’d successfully avoided Colin for the two weeks he’d been home.
He knew it had been too good to last. His brother closed the place drinking with friends
he hadn’t seen in years.
Ryan couldn’t wipe the image from his mind. It was like being stuck in a time warp.
Part of him had expected their dad to walk in and yell at Colin. Ryan drank last night
to forget the grief Colin had caused Dad. Ryan was still paying for it.
His office door opened and Ryan lifted his eyes expecting to see Mary. Instead, Eileen
O’Leary stood in front of him. “Hi, Mom. What’re you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Shit. He didn’t need any more on his plate. His mother sat in the chair in front of
his desk.
“You need to give Colin a chance.” As usual, his mother offered no preamble or small
talk; she got straight to the point.
“To do what? Fuck up everyone’s lives instead of just his?”
“Watch your mouth. He’s your brother.”
Ryan inhaled through his nose and reined in his anger. Lashing out at his mother would
solve nothing. “He’s the one who left.”
“He’s back. And he’s staying. He’s moved back home.”
Figures. Colin always took a free ride. Ryan looked at his mother. She sat straight
in the visitor’s chair, hands folded in her lap, and ice in her eyes. She wasn’t about
to let this go.
“What do you expect from me?”
“He needs help finding his way. He thought going out on his own would make it happen.
He’s as lost now as he ever was.”
Ryan shook his head. Colin wasn’t lost; he was lazy.
“He’s not like you, Ryan. You were always driven to succeed. Picked what you wanted
and fought for it. Colin has a harder time figuring out what he wants.”
“Did he tell you all this?”
“He didn’t need to.”
Ryan huffed and rolled his eyes. Eileen slapped a hand on his desk. “I know my boy.
Just as I know you want to make him pay for not being here.”
It amazed him how quickly the brogue blasted from her lips whenever she was angry.
He’d lived with it his whole life, but never got used to it. The Irish brogue was
a beautiful lilt in the mouths of his cousins, but from his own mother, it was venom-filled.
He had no choice but to give her what she asked. “I’ll try, Mom. That’s all I can
promise.”
She stood. “He’s family, Ryan. Your brother. You have to do more than try. Your father
would want you to make it right. He’d expect no less.”
She left as quietly as she came. Good old Mom. She didn’t care if it was a low blow
to pull out the guilt card. Irish Catholics were masters.
Monday morning, six-fifteen, and Quinn lay wide-awake. Her stomach churned. She held
her phone in her hand and hit speed dial.
“What?” Indy answered groggily.
“I did it. I called in sick. Now what?”
“Go back to sleep. I’ll call you at a decent hour.” She hung up.
“Great. Her brilliant idea and she won’t talk to me.” Quinn tossed the phone on her
nightstand and rolled over.
Three hours later, her phone rang. She reached for it and stopped. What if it was
school? Would she have to pretend to be sick? Could she? She blew her bangs off her
forehead and crumpled the dust rag in her hand.
Her heart thumped nervously as she waited for the machine to answer.
Indy’s voice called, “Hey, Quinn. It’s me. Are you there?”
Quinn picked up the line. “I’m here.”
“Too bad. You’re supposed to be out having fun. What are you doing?”
She tossed the rag on the table. “Spring cleaning I put off.”
“Oh, God. You are such a sad case. You do
not
take a sick day to clean. You need to go
do
something.”
“Like what?”
“Look, I have a couple of showings scheduled for this morning and a closing this afternoon.
Keep yourself busy, with fun, and we’ll do something together later. Don’t you have
any other friends to hang out with?”
“They’re all at work. Where I should be. I called Kate, but Kyra’s sick. The only
people I know with flexible jobs are you and Nick.”
“Do
not
call Nick.”
“I didn’t say I’d call him.” But the thought had crossed her mind. Her ex was always
good for having fun.
“My clients are coming. Find something fun to do. I’ll call you soon.”
Quinn turned back to her bookshelf. She’d finish what she started and then find something
fun.
 
Ryan stood outside Quinn’s loft. He reminded himself they were hanging out as friends.
She wasn’t ready to accept anything else from him, regardless of how hot their kiss
was or the continued chemistry they shared. He rang the bell, but she didn’t answer.
He rang again.
“Hello?” she questioned hesitantly.
“Hey, Quinn. It’s Ryan.”
She didn’t respond, but the buzzer sounded, allowing him entrance. He eyed the elevator
and chose the stairs.
Her door was open, and Quinn wasn’t standing in the doorway. It was an improvement
over his last visit. Country music floated quietly from the kitchen. Quinn stood on
a step stool wiping down the binding of each book on the shelf before setting it aside.
This is worse than I thought.
Without looking at him, Quinn asked, “Why are you here?”
“Indy called me—”
“That’s what I figured. You can leave. I’m fine.”
She scrubbed furiously at the shelf, ponytail on her head bobbing in rhythm. The cotton
pants hung loosely on her legs but contoured to the shape of her behind. The baggy
T-shirt did nothing for him. Her feet, however, with red-painted toes were incredibly
sexy.
He’d told Indy he’d leave if Quinn told him to. He’d lied. “Why don’t you go shower
and change, and we’ll get out of here?”
“I don’t need your pity date.”
“It’s not pity. And it’s not a date. We’re a couple of friends playing hooky and spending
the day together.” He leaned against the arm of the couch. As often as he fixed things
for his family, he could help her too.
Quinn turned and looked at him suspiciously, but stepped off the stool. Dust rag balled
in her hand, she crossed her arms. “Thank you for the ride home Friday night and the
coffee Saturday. It was really nice of you, but I don’t think we can be friends.”
“Why?”
“Because you kissed me.”
“We don’t have to stop being friends because we kissed.” He straightened and stepped
closer.
Her eyes met his. “
You
kissed me. I don’t know how to do the friends with benefits thing.”
He barely stopped his laugh. She would bolt if he laughed. “That doesn’t surprise
me. But I said nothing about benefits. Just friends.” He extended his hand to shake.
Quinn took his hand tentatively. Hers trembled. For a woman who kept cool and reserved,
the slight motion hinted at something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Ryan rocked back on his heels. “You can’t cross this off your list if you spend the
day cleaning.”
“You sound like Indy.” She blew her bangs up and out of her eyes.
“It’s a good thing you have me. Go change.”
She measured him and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. White teeth against pink
flesh stirred his blood.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He hadn’t yet figured out what fun they could have with their clothes
on.
“That doesn’t work for me.”
“Too bad.” He sat on the couch and propped his right ankle on his left knee.
“Then I’m not going.” She recrossed her arms.
“I’ll drag you out of here looking like that, lemon furniture polish scent and all.
It’s your choice.”
“You can’t drag me.”
He leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Her challenge made him want to go all caveman and throw her over his shoulder just
to prove he could. “I would.” He rose from the couch and she stumbled back.
“Fine. I’m going upstairs.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She stomped up the stairs and closed a door. Ryan took the time to do what he hadn’t
done on Saturday—explore Quinn’s loft. The main floor was basically a wide-open space
with the ceiling at the second floor. Windows lined one wall, bookshelves another.
She had more books in piles in various places in the room. A desk tucked in the corner
near the stairs held her laptop.
He wandered into the kitchen and stopped in front of the refrigerator. A neatly typed
list stared at him. It drew his attention amidst the colorful artwork. The first item
was “Play hooky.” He read through the rest.
Blood rushed southward as he got to the bottom of the list. The passion of the kiss
they’d shared closed over him. The sudden realization that she’d seek another man
to accomplish these tasks hit him. Like ice water dumped on his head, Ryan’s warm
thoughts were doused.
Indy knew about this. Hell, she created it, yet she sent me over here anyway
.
Ryan left the kitchen and returned to his place on the couch. Reading the list invaded
Quinn’s privacy. He probably shouldn’t have read it. He’d come here today as a friend,
but he’d use all the ammunition he could get his hands on.
Quinn’s bounding down the metal steps caught his attention. The sight of her pushed
aside all thoughts of friendship. A bright blue Cubs T-shirt was tucked into the waistband
of tight jeans. The teacher had become the girl next door. She had her damp hair tucked
behind her ears. His gaze wandered to her feet. Unfortunately, she wore black canvas
sneakers.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Whenever you are.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Maybe.” He opened his arms for her to lead the way. As she walked by, he caught the
scent of her perfume. It wasn’t the same soft scent he’d smelled before. It was darker
and more enticing. Remaining friends without benefits might be more difficult than
anticipated.
 
Quinn paused before heading to the door and pushed a plastic container of cookies
at him. “Before we go, I have something for you. Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Cookies from Saturday. You told me to save you some.”
He took one of the cookies and sank his teeth in. Her breath locked in her chest,
waiting for his reaction.
A groan sounded from deep in his throat. “These are amazing. How do you keep from
eating them all at once?”
Ignoring the pleasurable sound and what it did to her insides, she answered, “Self-control.
Everything in moderation.”
“I’m not good at either of those,” he said, biting into a second cookie. His look
said he was referring to more than eating cookies. He returned the lid to the container.
“I better leave these here or I’ll eat them all.”

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