The Mighty Quinns: Ronan (8 page)

“The wrong kind,” he said.

“I don’t know how to be that kind of woman,” Charlie said. “I never learned. I mean, I’m a decent actress, so I can pretend, but—”

“No, don’t do that,” Ronan said. “You’d be like every other woman I’ve known.” She rose up and leaned over the counter and he gave her another oyster, then wiped her bottom lip with his thumb. “I never expected you.”

“I didn’t expect you, either.”

“I have no idea where this is going to go.”

She shrugged. “Neither do I. But it’s going to be fun finding out, don’t you think?”

Ronan nodded. “So, are we going to do this every night? Is this going to cause problems with your family?”

“I ran away to New York with my high school boyfriend when I was eighteen. I’m pretty much considered a sexual rebel around Sibleyville.” She held out a forkful of noodles and he grabbed the bite. “Besides, everyone in town wants us to get married so we’ll break the curse. Believe me, they’ll be more than happy that we’re sleeping together.”

He sent her a wicked grin. “All right then. I think it’s our civic duty to make the citizens of Sibleyville happy.” Ronan slid off the stool and slowly circled the counter. “I think I’m ready to continue now.”

“I’m still eating,” she teased.

He took the carton from Charlie’s hand and set it down, then drew her along to the bedroom. “We only have three hours until we have to be up for work. I think we need to get started right now.”

Charlie slipped out of his grasp and ran to the bedroom, then jumped into the center of the bed. He followed her, throwing the sheet off at the last minute.

He retrieved a box of condoms from his bag, then pulled her along with him as they tumbled onto the mattress. Ronan settled himself between her legs and caught her in a long and passionate kiss, his tongue teasing at hers, his hands skimming over her body.

But Charlie didn’t want to waste time on foreplay. She grabbed the box and pulled out a packet. Ronan moaned softly as she sheathed him, his shaft hard and ready again.

Charlie wasn’t prepared for what happened next. As he slowly entered her, a rush of emotion overwhelmed her and she realized that what she was about to share with him would probably change her life.

She’d never forget this man or the pleasure that he’d brought into her world in such a short time. Before he’d arrived, she’d been marking the days, drifting in a routine that was safe but certainly not satisfying.

Ronan slowly buried himself inside her, his lips grazing hers as he bent closer. Charlie held her breath until he could go no further, then let a soft moan escape. As he began to move, she found it difficult to focus on anything but the swirl of sensations coursing through her body.

It had been years since she’d felt this way, like a woman—like a sexy, desirable woman. In truth, maybe she’d never felt this way. And she didn’t care how long the affair lasted. A day or a month, it didn’t matter. For as long as Ronan wanted her, she would find her way into his bed.

5

R
ONAN
JUMPED
OUT
of the skiff as Charlie maneuvered it alongside the dock. She grabbed the stern line and quickly knotted it around the cleat, then hurried to the stern to pull that line tight.

They’d been working together for a week and a half and now operated as a finely tuned team. They’d moved from seeding the oyster beds to harvesting, along with three other teams. Their mornings were spent pulling the lantern baskets full of harvested oysters from a spot in the bay.

Those oysters had been sorted and put in the baskets a few days before, then left in free flowing water in order to purge them of grit. After the lantern baskets were delivered to the boathouse for cleaning, packaging and shipping, Charlie and Ronan headed back out to harvest oysters from the bottom, pulling up dredge baskets full of the lumpy shells and sorting them into the lantern baskets.

He hadn’t grown tired of the work. In fact, Charlie had been teaching him all about the farm and he was beginning to fall into the easy rhythms and routines. He glanced down at his work partner and smiled.

She was dressed in the typical uniform, rubber boots, chest-high waders, a long-sleeved T-shirt and heavy gloves. Today, she wore a battered Red Sox cap on her head that shaded her eyes from the sun, and her hair, tangled by the salty wind, peeked out from beneath the cap.

She’d never looked more beautiful, he thought to himself. In the past, Ronan had always entered a relationship with a woman knowing full well that it would come to an end within a month. Women had become a commodity and his romantic life had been short on romance and high on turnover.

Was it any wonder that he’d missed out on something like this? Had there been a woman in his past like Charlotte Sibley had? She was bright light, sunshine pouring into the dark corners of his soul.

Ronan jumped back down into the boat and grabbed Charlie, pulling her into a long kiss. “What do you say we get ourselves all dressed up and go out this evening? It’s Friday night.”

Charlie’s eyebrow shot up. “You want to take me on a date?”

“Yeah. There must be somewhere we could go. The movies? Maybe a nice restaurant. I got paid yesterday. And the money is burning a hole in my waders.”

“So first, we jump into bed and then we start dating.” She grinned. “It didn’t work for me the other way around so I guess we could give it a shot.”

“All right. I’ll make the plans.” But before he could go on, Ronan heard a scream from the wharf above them.

“Charlotte Sibley! Charlotte Sibley, I need youuuuuuu!”

Charlie peeked over Ronan’s shoulder and groaned. “Oh, no. Lettie Trowbridge. If you get the lines, I think we should be able to make our escape before she gets down here.”

“What does she want?” Ronan asked. He turned around when he heard the clomp of footsteps on the wooden stairs.

“Who knows. She may want an update on our sex life. Or she may want to know whether I read the books she dropped off at my parents’ house.”

“What kind of books?”

“How To Please Your Man. Catch Your Perfect Guy In Thirty Days. Make Love Like A Porn Star.”

“That last one sounds good.”

“Charlotte! Hellooo! Charlotte!”

Pasting a smile on her face, Charlie stepped out from behind Ronan and jumped up onto the dock. Lettie was an elderly woman with a shock of white hair that looked like it had been combed with a rake. She wore a blouse with flowers bigger than her head and carried a huge purse that hung from her shoulder.

“Hello,” she said, sending him a warm smile. “You must be the Quinn. I’ve seen you around town, but we haven’t officially met.” She held out her hand. “Leticia Trowbridge. Sibleyville’s official matchmaker.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a camera then snapped a quick picture of him.

“Oh, look at that. Rugged. Handsome. The scruffy beard will have all the women swooning.” She snapped another picture. “I’d love to get one after you’ve had a chance to clean up a bit.”

“Lettie, is there something I can help you with? You came here looking for me, didn’t you?”

The older woman slapped her forehead. “Yes! I did. I am in dire need of your help, Charlotte. As you know, I’m the head of the entertainment and culture committee for the Sibleyville Bicentennial Celebration which will begin two weeks from today. And I’m sure you’ve heard that we’re doing a wonderful theatrical production called ‘The Curse of Bridie Quinn.’ It’s a Romeo and Juliet tale of Edward Sibley and Moira Quinn. Only in this version, they get married.”

“You can’t change history,” Charlie said.

“Of course I can. The whole last part of the play takes place in a dream. At the end, Edward wakes up and stares longingly out to sea. It’s very tragic.” She paused for a moment as if she’d forgotten her train of thought, then drew another breath. “The reason I’ve come is that we’ve lost our Moira. Ruth Ann Robinson tripped over her cat and broke her ankle. There’s no way she’ll be able to go on. Anyway, everyone in town thought that you’d be an excellent replacement since you were a professional actress at one time.”

Ronan grabbed the lunch pail from the skiff and the extra clothes, then jumped onto the dock. “I’m going to head up to the apartment,” he said.

“No, no, don’t leave,” Lettie said. “I understand you know you’re way around a hammer and a saw. We could use your help with sets. It would mean a lot to everyone here in town.”

“I really don’t think I’ll have time,” he said.

“And I won’t either, Lettie.”

“But you could memorize everything quickly. You wouldn’t have to come to rehearsal until the week after next. I’m sure you’ll be able to learn the staging quickly. Please say you’ll consider it.”

Charlie glanced over at Ronan, shaking her head. “If you don’t find anyone else to take the part, then I might consider it. But you should keep looking.”

“Lovely,” Lettie said. She pulled a sheaf of papers from her bag. “This is the script. Just give it a look. I’d love your input.” She turned to Ronan. “And as for you, Mr. Quinn, I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

With that, Leticia Trowbridge hurried off the dock, her hair blowing in the late afternoon breeze. Charlie grabbed Ronan’s arm and leaned against him.

“I’d love to see you on stage,” he murmured.

She gave him a playful slap with the script. “No way.”

“I could help you memorize your lines,” he said.

“You’re going to take me out tonight,” she said. “But first, I’m going to go home and take a nice long bath.”

“Come on, then.” He held her hand as they walked back to the boathouse. The Fed Ex truck was parked outside and the girls from the shipping department were helping to load the boxes of oysters and dry ice. One of the women stopped Charlie to discuss a problem with the previous day’s shipments, so Ronan continued on to the boathouse. He stripped out of his boots and waders, then walked up to the apartment in his stocking feet.

As he passed the office, he noticed Charlie’s mother, sitting at a desk with a ledger in front of her, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She looked up as he neared and smiled.

“Hello, there,” she said.

They hadn’t seen each other since his first night in town, over a week ago, and Ronan had to wonder how she felt about her daughter spending her nights in his bed. “Hi,” Ronan said.

“You’re in early,” she said, glancing up at the clock.

“Yeah, we got an early start this morning. And the dredging went really well.” He paused. “I wanted to thank you for stocking the kitchen. I really appreciated that.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. So how do you like oyster farming?”

Ronan smiled. “I like it a lot,” he said. “It’s so nice to be outdoors and on the water. And I like working with Charlotte.” He paused. “I’m sorry that I’ve been monopolizing her time.”

“I’m happy that she has someone to monopolize her time,” Penny said. “She’s been at loose ends since she came back from New York. And she was spending too much time alone. Of course, we appreciate her help with the farm, but she needs to think about her own happiness.”

“You don’t think she’s happy working on the oyster farm?”

“I think she feels a responsibility to help out the family. I want her to find her own passion, to chase her own dreams.”

She’d been chasing some of her passions with him every night. Since their first night together, they’d found new ways of expressing their desire and each interlude had provided intimate revelations that made his feelings for her grow even deeper.

“We’re having Thanksgiving tomorrow night,” she said. “We’d like you to come.”

“I’d love to,” Ronan said.

“Oysters,” she said. “I have to take some oysters home for the stuffing. I hope you like oyster stuffing. If you don’t, I could—”

“No, no,” Ronan said. “Believe me, I’ll eat anything that has oysters in it. I think I’ve eaten them every day since I’ve been here.”

“Hmmm,” Penny said. “No wonder my daughter hasn’t spent a night at home in all that time.” She gave him a shrewd look. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I happen to think that sex is one of the two things that make life worth living. Food would be the other. I have seven children, proof that Mr. Sibley and I enjoy ourselves in that area.” She paused. “Oh, I am embarrassing you. Well, run along. I hope I haven’t done too much damage.”

Ronan nodded and hurried to the apartment. As he closed the door behind him, he chuckled softly. Talking about sex with Charlie’s mother was just about the strangest thing he’d ever done. But then, strange seemed to be almost normal when it came to the Sibley family. Irish curses. Chicken tandoori. Thanksgiving in September. What was next?

* * *

C
HARLIE
CLOSED
THE
front door of the apartment behind her. As she walked through the living room, she pulled her clothes over her head and tossed them on the floor. “Ronan?”

“I’m in here,” he said, his voice coming from the bathroom.

“Mom said she invited you for Thanksgiving tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, we had a nice talk,” he said.

Charlie frowned. That very short statement could mean just about anything. “A nice talk?” She opened the bathroom door and froze.

Candles illuminated the interior. They were scattered around the room, the flames flickering in the draft from the air conditioning. Ronan, his hair still damp from a shower, had filled the bathtub and sat on the floor beside it, wearing only his boxers, a glass of wine in his hand.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“You said you wanted a long bath. I made one for you. Hop in before it gets cold.”

She squatted down beside him and gave him a kiss. “You’re awfully nice to me. You’re not angling for a raise are you?”

“I wasn’t,” he said. “But if this will get me one, I’ll crawl in with you.”

Charlie stripped off the rest of her clothes, then stepped into the tub. “No, I prefer to take my bath alone. But you can watch.” As she slowly sank down into the water, she let out a long breath. “Oh, that’s nice.”

He handed her the glass of wine, then stretched his legs out in front of him. “Your mother is very…open-minded.”

Charlie nodded. “I know! She’s always been that way. We were the first kids in school to know the truth about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. She claimed that she just couldn’t perpetuate a lie and she felt guilty deceiving her children past the age of ten.”

“We had a nice chat about sex,” Ronan said.

“Oh, God, no. Did she tell you the cow story?”

“No,” he said.

“Good. I’m not going to tell it to you now, because I’d prefer to save myself the embarrassment. But I’m sure you’ll hear it at some point.”

“I like your mother,” Ronan said. “I’d kind of like to think that my mother might have been a lot like her.” He paused. “Since I’ve been here, there have been some things that I think I remember about her.”

“Like what?”

He thought for a long moment. “I remember how much she used to laugh. She and my father always seemed to be sharing a private joke.”

“My parents do that all the time. Even at their age, they still can’t keep their hands off each other. That was really embarrassing when I was younger. Now, I think it’s sweet.” Charlie reached out and ran her finger along his arm. “What else do you remember?”

“It’s just this vague feeling. Mom always wanted me to make my own choices. I remember one time, I think I was in kindergarten. I had these Superhero pajamas and I wanted to wear them to school. My brothers made all kinds of fun of me, but she backed me up. She said if I wanted to wear them to school, I could. So I did. And she took a photo of me and her, standing on the porch of our house, on our way to school. I still have that photo.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person,” Charlie said.

“I think she was. I hope my memories are true. After my parents died, my grandfather never wanted to talk about them. And the older I get, the more I want to know who they were.”

“Maybe you should find out,” Charlie said. “Have you ever asked your grandfather?”

“No,” Ronan said. “Whenever we tried, he’d tear up and get emotional. And he was a really strong man. But he just couldn’t talk about it.”

Ronan slipped his hand around her nape and drew her into a kiss. His gaze met hers and Charlie saw something there that she’d never seen before. What was it? There were times that he seemed to drift to a distant place and then, suddenly, he’d be back again.

Ronan helped her wash her hair and when she was done, he wrapped a towel around the damp strands. Then he grabbed another towel and gently wiped the water out of her eyes. “I’ve never been able to talk about this stuff,” he said. “I’ve kept it bottled up inside of me for years. And yet, when I’m with you, it just comes pouring out.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” she said, her gaze fixed on his.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “It is good.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes, her fingers still laced through his. “If you want to know more about them, maybe you could find some of their friends. They must have had people that they hung around with. People they talked to.”