Quinn nodded, feeling awkward again. The fact that she knew what needed to be done to obtain a marriage license reminded him of her deceased fiancé and her lost dreams.
“We’ll need to pay the fee in cash. It could take an hour or so to get the license. Do you want to bring the children with us? I have a friend, Jolie, who pinch-hits for me here at the day care when necessary. I could ask her to look after the children.”
“I’d rather bring them with us. I don’t like letting them out of my sight.”
Her golden eyes softened. “Okay. I’ll bring lots of distracting toys.”
Quinn didn’t think Hope needed toys at all. She was a distraction herself. Her voice. Her hair. The soft curves of her body. And especially those eyes…. He reined in his thoughts. He’d be lucky if he lived long enough to say “I do.” And his promise to Tom that Hope wouldn’t get hurt included never touching her in the way a husband is meant to touch a wife.
It wouldn’t be fair to her if he did. She’d already mourned one man she’d intended to marry.
“Will you need Jolie to look after the kids you regularly care for?” Quinn frowned, considering the risks his presence posed to others. Maybe Jolie could look after Hope’s day-care kids at her own home until he was gone. It would be safer that way.
Hope dropped her gaze. “Actually, I’m not working next week. It’s a short work week leading up to Easter because of Good Friday, and most of my parents have Easter Monday off, too, so they’re taking vacation days to give themselves a ten-day break. Which gives me a ten-day break.”
Ten days. It should be enough time for the kids to fall in love with Hope. It had only taken an evening for Quinn to fall in love with her.
He tamped down firmly on that last thought. A trip down memory lane wouldn’t do either of them much good. He needed to stay focused. “That’s one problem solved. I’ll make sure I’m gone before you resume operations.” Creasing open his wallet, he extracted the piece of paper on which Tom had written the phone number for the pub. Then he punched in the number and passed the phone to Hope. “Ask to speak to Tom and say you’re his wife calling.”
Hope felt her hand shake as she gripped the phone. The precautions Quinn was taking—his talk of installing an alarm system, keeping the children within his sight and a bag packed for quick flight, and now, the cloak-and-dagger stuff with the phone—only increased her fears.
What if the hit man somehow learned Tom was assisting Quinn? The thought didn’t bear thinking about.
Hope heard the sound of a guitar and a smatter of applause in the background as her brother-in-law’s whiskey-smooth voice came on the line. “Hi, honey. Did your company arrive?”
“Yes, they’re here.”
“How are the kids?”
She assured him they were fine. “I’m phoning to tell you that Quinn and I have agreed to be married on Monday. We’ll get the license first thing in the morning.”
“You’re a good person. I just hope you won’t get hurt. Our friend strikes me as being a man of his word. I’ll do my best to protect your interests. But we’ll have to keep this news private. I don’t think we should tell your sister or your parents.”
“Our friend mentioned that. I understand.”
“Good. I’ll meet you Monday at one at the minister’s house. Our friend has the address.”
Hope gestured at Quinn to show her the slip of paper the phone number had been written on. Sure enough, there was an address on it, as well. And thank heavens it wasn’t the same renovated church where she’d planned to marry David.
“Fine. I’ve got it, Tom. We’ll be there.”
Hope punched the end conversation button and raised her eyes to meet Quinn’s steady gaze. Her heart twisted painfully at the thought of how brief he’d implied their marriage could be. Her voice trembled. “It’s all set. We’re getting married Monday at one.”
For the sake of those two precious babies sleeping upstairs, Hope prayed this time she’d actually get to exchange vows with the groom.
Chapter Three
Since toasting their nuptials with champagne hardly seemed appropriate, Hope made a pot of hot coffee. Even though Quinn was obviously exhausted, she had questions, lots of them, and now seemed the best time to ask them. She poured two mugs of coffee and passed one to Quinn, who was seated at the old pine table in her kitchen. “Sorry, there’s no milk. You’ll have to take it black.”
His lean fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. “That’s the way I like it.”
All he wanted was the caffeine to keep him functioning, Hope thought, noting the exhaustion lining his features. She’d offered him something to eat, but he’d told her he’d eaten a hamburger earlier. She sat down across from him. “Do you really think you might have been followed here?”
“The possibility is slim, but police work taught me you live longer if you prepare for every eventuality. Which reminds me,” he opened his wallet and withdrew five one-thousand-dollar bills and several one-hundred-dollar bills and set them in a pile in front of her. “This is for you. I want you to keep it with you on your person. Not in your purse—unless it’s one of those pouches that you keep strapped around your waist at all times. And keep some ID with you, too. If we need to leave, you won’t be able to use credit cards. We’ll each keep a bag packed in the car for ourselves and for the kids with whatever supplies you think we’ll need. The bags will go with us wherever we go.”
“Okay. I’ll do it tonight before I go to bed. I’ll stock up on groceries tomorrow and buy the kids some more clothes.” Hope started making a mental list of things she should pick up.
“There’s one other thing, Hope.”
“Mm-hmm?”
“If something goes wrong, if he somehow manages to find his way here, I’m counting on you to get the children safely away. I’m the one he wants, but if he views you as an obstacle or thinks you can ID him, he’ll kill you, too. And he wouldn’t hesitate to kill the children either.”
A chill clambered up Hope’s spine and spread into her arms, making her fingers tremble. Coffee spilled over the rim of her mug. Quinn’s lean fingers cupped her hands, bolstering her with their warmth and strength. “Get to a safe place. Drive to a police station or a place where there are a lot of people. If you make it to a police station have them contact Detectives Thacker and Beauchamp in the Ottawa-Carleton Regional Police’s major crime section. I’ll give you their phone numbers to keep with you. You can also call Tom. He’ll help you.” He gave her fingers another squeeze. “I have no intention of letting this bastard take me down, too, but I’ll put up a much better fight if I know you and the children are out of harm’s way. Promise me.”
“I promise.” Relief flickered in his eyes as he removed his hands. Hope sighed, already missing his touch. “But there must be another way to deal with this. I don’t understand why we don’t all stay in hiding together. Couldn’t these police detectives you mentioned put us in some kind of protective custody until they make an arrest?”
“What if they don’t make an arrest? We’re dealing with a professional killer, not some punk who’s likely to make a stupid mistake. I’ve given the police a list of people who could have hired the hit, but it’s only gut feeling, nothing solid. Do you really want to just walk away from your home and your day care, not to mention sever all your ties with your family?”
Not see her family? Hope’s throat ached. Her