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There were moments when they couldn’t seem to get close enough. His hand moved to her breast and she moaned softly. Dermot grazed his thumb across her nipple. He watched as she arched against his touch, her breath coming in quick gasps and her lips damp.
He had three weeks left with Rachel, three weeks to figure out why she meant so much to him. Would it be enough? Or would he be forced to walk away without ever really knowing if they belonged together? There were so many questions that needed to be answered already, and the list just kept getting longer.
5
IT WAS A PERFECT summer night. The sky was clear, the sunset turning the western horizon orange and pink. Rachel stood at the screen door, staring out into the quiet yard. The first crickets had started to chirp, a pretty counterpoint to the sound of the baseball game coming from the truck radio.
Dermot sat on the porch steps, tossing a little ball into the yard for Benny, who danced around it playfully before picking it up in his mouth and carrying it back to Dermot.
It was a testimony to how easily Dermot had found his place on the farm and a special connection with the animals. Benny usually did whatever he wanted, causing as much trouble as he could along the way. But now he seemed to be content to play a goat version of “fetch,” a brand-new trick for him.
She pushed open the screen door and it squeaked. Dermot glanced over his shoulder. “Mariners are ahead, six to four. And I didn’t know goats could fetch.”
“Neither did I. He’s never done that before.”
“Really?”
Rachel nodded. “Do you go to baseball games when you’re at home?” she asked.
He nodded. “My brothers and I have season tickets. I usually get to at least one game a week when they’re in town.”
She sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Tell me what you’d be doing if you were home. I want to be able to imagine your life after you’ve left.”
He reached out and caught her chin. “Do you think I’m just going to disappear from your life when my six weeks are up?”
Rachel shrugged. “I—I don’t know. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. Are you going to disappear?”
“No,” he said. “I think we’ll talk. And maybe you could come to Seattle to visit me. I could take you sailing. Or I could visit the farm. It’s not like I’m going to be living on the moon. There are planes that fly back and forth between Chicago and Seattle.”
Rachel sighed softly. As much as she needed a vacation, she knew the reality of her situation. “You know how difficult it is for me to get away. The dairy requires me to be here every day of every week.”
“Then we’re going to have to find someone to help you out after I leave. And he’s going to be old and toothless and preferably gay.”
Rachel laughed. “Oh, so you don’t want me hanging around the bus stop and hiring another Dermot Quinn?”
“I’m one of a kind. You’ll never find another farmhand like me.”
She stood up and walked down the steps. “I’m going to get the mail. Do you want to come with me?”
Dermot shook his head. “No, I think I’ll just stay here and watch.”
As Rachel walked to the driveway, she swayed her hips provocatively and he gave her a wolf whistle.
“Work it, baby,” he called.
She usually avoided the mail for as long as she could, sometimes letting it build up for a week. It was always the same thing—bills, bills, bills. The power, the feed store, the vet.
She opened the box and pulled out a stack of envelopes, then walked back down the driveway, flipping through them. One piece of mail caught her attention and she pulled it from the bunch, staring at the return address. Minneapolis.
When she reached the porch, she sat down again and waved the envelope at Dermot. “A letter from my sister, Jane,” she said.
“Really,” he murmured. He grabbed the envelope and examined it. “Are you going to open it?”
“I know what’s inside. She’s going to try to convince me to sell the farm. I’m sure she could use the money for a new car or a vacation to Mexico. She lives in a neighborhood where money is very, very important.”
“Don’t open it,” Dermot said.
But Rachel didn’t want to shy away from the conflict any longer. She felt stronger now, as if she could finally stand up for herself and state her case. Her father had left the decisions about the farm to her. She was the executor of his estate. “I want to see what she has to say.”
Rachel ripped open the envelope, pulled out a three-page letter and began to read. But the subject wasn’t at all what she’d expected. “Oh. She and her husband are having problems. They’re getting a divorce. He took all their money and ran off with… Oh, no. He ran off with another woman.”
Dermot slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He took the letter from her and continued reading. “She needs time to sort out her life. She wants to send her boys to live on the farm to get them away from all the gossip.”
“I don’t even know them. I met them six or seven years ago when they came for Christmas when my mom was still alive. They haven’t been to the farm since then. They’re probably teenagers now.” Rachel leaned over to read the rest of the letter. “When does she want to send them?”
“As soon as possible,” he said. “She wants you to call her.”
A long silence grew between them. How could she refuse? This was the first time any of her siblings had ever asked her for anything—beyond their demands to sell the farm. She wanted to believe she might one day have a relationship with her brothers and sister, but this was not the way she wanted it to happen.
“What are you going to do?” Dermot asked.
“She’s family. And she needs my help. I can’t say no.” She met his gaze and felt a surge of emotion. “What do you think?”
He nodded. “I think you’re absolutely right. This will be a good place for your nephews to be while all that turmoil is going on at home. And maybe you and your sister can become a bit closer.”
“I’ve never had many opportunities to deal with teenage boys before,” Rachel said. “What if they’re naughty?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you out. I was once a teenage boy. I know what’s going on in their heads.”
Rachel slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you,” she murmured.
It was so simple to depend upon him, and yet, she knew that in a few more weeks he’d be gone. Life seemed so much easier when she had Dermot standing in her corner, backing her up, ready to catch her when she fell.
“When they come, they’ll have to stay in the house,” she said.
“I didn’t expect that you’d put them in the barn.”
“Which means you’re going to have to move back in with Eddie.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she put her finger across his lips. “It just wouldn’t be right. I have to set a good example. And Jane is very conservative when it comes to her children.”
“Well, then, we’re going to have to find a place to sneak away every now and then.”
Rachel smiled. “I suppose that could be arranged.”
“And we’re going to have to get in as much sex as we can before they arrive,” Dermot added. “Starting now.” He stood up and scooped her into his arms, then carried her up the porch steps and into the house.
Maybe this was for the best, Rachel thought. They’d become so close that it was almost impossible to imagine how she could ever let him go. Perhaps by putting some distance between them, the leaving might be a bit less traumatic.
He set her on the edge of the kitchen counter, stepping in between her legs as his hands smoothed up her bare thighs. His lips met hers, and a heartbeat later, they were lost in a deep and stirring kiss.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said against her mouth, his hands slipping through her hair.
“What were you thinking?” she asked, her breath coming in quick gasps.
“About what would happen once we were alone again.”
“We’re always alone,” she said, unbuttoning his work shirt. “What did you imagine?”
Pushing the soft cotton aside, Rachel reached up and smoothed her hands over his naked chest. “What are we doing here?” she murmured, pressing her lips to his chest.
“I have no idea,” Dermot replied, “but I don’t want to stop.”
He ran his hands down her back and Rachel shivered at the sensation of his touch. “This is going to be impossible,” she said, nuzzling her face into his neck.
“We’re sleeping in the same bedroom. How is that impossible?”
“How long do you think we can keep this up?” Rachel asked. “It’s getting out of control.”
Dermot drew her closer, pulled her legs around his waist. She could feel his desire beneath the faded fabric of his jeans. “Out of control is good,” he said. “That’s exactly how it should be between us.”
Rachel reached up to run her fingers along his lower lip. “What do you want from me? Tell me.”
“I’m sure we can come up with something.” He gently bit at her fingertips. “God, you’re beautiful. I’ve looked at you hundreds of times in the past few weeks and I can’t seem to get enough. Not this way.”
Dermot tugged the strap of her tank top off her shoulder and pressed a line of kisses over the gentle curve between her neck and arm.
“I don’t know anything about you,” she said. “Yet I know you completely.”
“It’s strange,” he said, smoothing his hand across her breast. “But wonderful.”
Dermot smiled as he cupped her breast in his hand, teasing at her nipple with his thumb. And then, in one easy motion, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his mouth against her neck. He trailed kisses from her collarbone to her breast, then finally drew the hard nub of her nipple into his mouth. She arched back, holding her breath as he pulled her down into another kiss.
She wanted to tell him how she felt, just blurt it all out and let the consequences fall where they may. What did she have to lose? He was going to leave anyway. Rachel cupped his face in her hands and turned his gaze up to hers. “I’m not sure anymore that I can let you go.”
“I’m not sure anymore that I want to leave.”
Rachel groaned, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. “Don’t say that.” She shook her head. “Don’t tease me and let me believe you want to stay.”
“Why not?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “This isn’t a game. This is my life.”
“What does that mean?” Dermot said, an edge of anger in his voice.
“I think that sometimes you’ll say anything to get what you want.” Rachel sighed. This conversation was going nowhere. They usually had no trouble communicating, but she couldn’t seem to make him understand. “Don’t talk about the future like you imagine yourself here.”
“Don’t you imagine that your life might suddenly become easier?”
“Easier? You think I want you because it makes my life easier?” Though the notion seemed insulting at first, Rachel realized that maybe Dermot was right. Maybe she was falling in love with the idea of a man at Clover Meadow Farm, instead of with the man himself. What did she really know about Dermot, beyond what they shared in the bedroom?
“Are you really that delusional?” Rachel asked. “I don’t need you to complete my life. I’m perfectly capable of running this farm on my own.”
“Are you?” Dermot asked, his expression intense.
God, was he deliberately provoking her? How had this conversation managed to deteriorate in such a short time. She ought to just walk away, before she said something she couldn’t take back. “Yes, I am. In fact, right now, I wish I’d never even hired you. I thought I’d figured out what I wanted and then you came along and screwed it up.” She cursed softly. “I was all right being alone. I wasn’t happy, but I was fine.”
Rachel scrambled off the counter, crossing the kitchen to stand behind the table, creating a barrier between them. Anger bubbled up inside her. How had she let things go so far? She’d promised herself that she’d protect her heart, and somehow, without even knowing, she’d allowed herself to fall for him.
“I think you should go,” she said, humiliated at the emotion that made her voice shake.
“Are you joking?”
“I’ll pay you for all six weeks. You’ll have enough for a bus ticket home. It would be better for both of us.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You hired me to work on this farm for six weeks and that’s what I’m going to do. If you don’t want me in your bed anymore, that’s fine. But I’m not leaving. So you can just forget that.”
Rachel cursed softly. Dermot Quinn was stubborn and arrogant. “It’s better if we just end it now, before either of us gets in too deep.”
His gaze met hers. “I’m not sure that’s possible,” he replied. “I know it’s not possible for me. And I don’t think it’s possible for you either.”
“We need to try.” Rachel moved to the door, then turned back to look at him. “I’m going to try.”
She yanked open the screen door and walked outside, heading for the barn and a last check on the goats. She felt as if she’d just dodged a terrible danger, her heart slamming in her chest, her adrenaline pumping. It would be easy to fall in love with Dermot and so hard to fall out of love. And right now, she didn’t have the strength to fight that battle.
“SEND UP SOME MORE shingles,” Dermot called.
He tucked his hammer into the old tool belt and made his way down from the peak of the roof. Eddie was stationed on the ground next to the old stone house, his hands on the rope to a pulley they’d rigged up. As always, Benny was at his side, this time perched on top of a stack of packaged shingles.
Over the past few days, Dermot had worked himself to exhaustion. At first, it helped alleviate his anger. The fight they’d had had been ridiculous. It was clear that Rachel was looking for any excuse to put some space between them and had jumped on the first misunderstanding they’d had.
Once his anger had cooled, he’d used hard work to defuse his sexual energy. It helped to have something to focus on, beyond thoughts of Rachel’s lips or her breasts or the way her body felt beneath his.
But now, he needed to drive himself hard just to sleep at night. It was the only way he could deal with the empty spot beside him in bed. If he was tired enough, he could sleep without dreaming of Rachel and her soft skin and naked flesh and— Dermot cursed.
“I’m working as fast as I can,” Eddie said. “These things aren’t as light as a feather, you know. I’m an old man. Give me a break.”
“Sorry,” Dermot called down. “I wasn’t swearing at you.”
Three nights thinking about her, wondering if she was lying awake thinking about him. The days were even worse. He worked beside her in the dairy barn, watching her move, thinking about how nice it would be to drag her into his arms and kiss her until she surrendered again. They ate dinner together, drove to the feed store together, walked out to the pasture to fetch the goats for evening milking.
He understood her reluctance to get close again. They had jumped into the deep end of the desire pool and become expert swimmers in a very short time. Surprising for him since he’d always been rather indifferent about long-term relationships. When the strings came along, he was usually the one to cut and run.
But there were moments when he could actually picture himself living on the farm with Rachel. Those moments occurred at the oddest times—while he was chopping potatoes for dinner or when they were standing at the gate to the goat pen, watching the kids jump and play. This morning it had come when she handed him a mug of coffee.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on up there?”
Dermot looked over the edge of the roof and waved at Eddie. The package of shingles was nestled inside the bucket and he pulled on the rope.
A few moments later, Eddie appeared at the top of the ladder. He clambered onto the roof before Dermot had a chance to stop him, nimbly sitting down next to Dermot with a satisfied smile.
