The Mighty Quinns: Jamie. Kate Hoffmann

back from the table and stood up. “Why don’t you ladies relax and I’ll make the coffee and clean up the dishes.”

      “No, no, no,” Celia said. “You’re my guest and I won’t have you doing chores.”

      “Actually, I wouldn’t mind helping out around the house,” Jamie said. “I’m sure there are plenty of things that might appreciate a man’s touch.”

      Regan was in the middle of taking a sip of wine when he made his last statement, and she began to cough at his blatant offer of sexual favors.

      “Are you all right, darling?” Celia asked. Regan waved her hand in front of her face, slowly realizing that the meaning she took from his words wasn’t what he’d intended.

      “I’m sorry. I just drank that a little too fast. Let me help with the coffee.”

      She and Jamie gathered the dirty plates and silver and headed back to the kitchen.

      Jamie stood at the sink and began to rinse the dishes while Regan finished clearing, then she took her place on the other side of him and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.

      “I should probably apologize,” Jamie said. “You probably assumed that offer to help around the house had sexual overtones.”

      “Really?” Regan said. “No, I didn’t notice.”

      Jamie chuckled. “Oh, yes you did. You nearly choked on your wine.”

      Regan surrendered a smile. “All right, maybe I did. But you have to admit, your words could be taken both ways.”

      “You, my dear, have a dirty mind. And the sooner you realize I’m a respectable man, the easier it will be for us to get along with each other.”

      “Why would I want to get along with you?” Regan asked.

      “Because I’m endlessly fascinating and I tell a good story.”

      “And not because you have an overinflated ego and narcissistic personality disorder?”

      “I think if you gave me a chance,” Jamie said, “you’d like me.”

      “I’m sure you’ve had a lot of women who have liked you,” she said, “only to get their hearts broken.”

      He chuckled softly. “Yeah, you’d think. But that’s not the way it’s worked out. I’m the one who usually gets his heart broken.”

      The coffee was finished and Regan set it on a tray along with a trio of cups and saucers, as well as cream and sugar. The moment her grandmother saw the tray, Celia shook her head. “I can’t have any coffee now,” she said. “I’ll never fall asleep if I do.” She slowly got to her feet. “You’ll stay here tonight,” she said to Jamie. “Take the bedroom you got dressed in.” She turned to Regan. “And you’ll be nice. I’ll see you both in the morning. Good night.”

      Jamie joined her at the table and they both watched as Celia walked out of the room, leaving the two of them alone together.

      Regan reached out and poured herself a cup of coffee. She added a good measure of sugar, then took a long sip. Though it tasted good, coffee did little to counteract the wine she’d drunk.

      He stared at her from the other side of the table. Regan knew if she looked at him, just simply met his gaze, she’d want him to crawl over the table and kiss her. And she wasn’t ready for that.

      “I—I could use some fresh air,” she murmured. “I’ll just be a moment.”

      Regan walked through the great room to the tall wall of windows that overlooked the water. She grabbed a red knit shawl from a hook near the door and wrapped it around her head, then walked out into the chilly night air.

      A shiver skittered down her spine, but she wasn’t sure it was because of the cold or due to being in such close proximity to Jamie. Her footsteps echoed softly on the wood deck and when she reached the railing, Regan spread her hands out on the rough wood and drew a deep breath. The fresh air immediately cleared her head.

      Regan heard the door open behind her and she held her breath, counting his steps as he approached. She shivered again, this time her teeth chattering with the cold.

      “What is this thing you’re wearing?” he asked, fingering the fabric of the cape. “You look like Little Red Riding Hood.”

      “It’s vintage,” she said.

      “And that makes it stylish?”

      “Of course,” Regan teased. “And I like the color. Red is one of my favorites.” Her teeth chattered again and she moved away from him. A moment later she felt the warmth of his jacket surrounding her. He’d pulled his jacket open and he stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her chest, her back pressed against his warm body.

      “Better?”

      It was better. But it was also more frightening. And more exhilarating. And more confusing. And yet it seemed perfectly natural. “I should probably get to bed, too,” Regan said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had so much wine and I can’t afford to fall asleep at work tomorrow.”

      He slowly turned her around in his arms until she faced him. His lips were dangerously close to hers, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

      “I know you still don’t trust me, but you’re attracted to me. I’m attracted to you, too. I want to kiss you,” he whispered. “Why don’t we just see where this goes?”

      “I think that might be a mistake,” she replied.

      Her answer seemed to take him by surprise. “Then I guess we’ll leave it for another time,” he said. “Good night, Regan.” With that he turned and walked off the deck.

      Regan released a tightly held breath and it clouded in the cold air in front of her face. Her heart slammed in her chest and she realized how close she’d come to surrender. He was right; she was attracted to him. She had wanted to kiss him. She’d been thinking about it all night. But in the end common sense won out.

      Regan slowly smiled. She was strong enough. She could control her emotions when he touched her. Though he still was dangerous, he wasn’t a Superman. He was just an ordinary guy. And if she could call the shots, maybe she could let something happen between them.

      Maybe he’d ask again tomorrow. Maybe then she’d say yes.