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“Of course.” Before she’d ended her engagement, Bailey had been trying to work out the perfect present for her future mother-in-law’s big six-oh, but now she wasn’t sure Nora would want anything from her.
“As you know, the last six months hasn’t been easy on her. Hell, it hasn’t been easy on any of us, but I don’t want to let this slide by without a celebration. My family’s all so busy with the building of the new restaurant and Callum’s expansion plans that I was wondering if you would organize a party for her?”
He didn’t mention his dad’s death in the equation, but Bailey suddenly wondered if grief over the shocking loss of his father was part of the reason Quinn had broken the rules and slept with her. Maybe none of them had been thinking straight.
When she hesitated, he added, “We’d pay you, of course. I just want to do something really special for Mom.”
She’d been going to refuse, but his heartfelt words and obvious love for his mother got to her. And, if she were honest, surprised her. Also, this was the grandmother of her baby they were talking about. She felt guilty enough about her secret, but, even if she did come clean eventually, right now it was too soon after she and Callum had broken up. She needed time to get her head around this situation herself and didn’t want to be the cause of family disharmony, so perhaps the least she could do was help make Nora’s birthday special.
“And,” Quinn continued, sounding like a salesman who thought he was in danger of losing a sale, “it’ll be a chance for you to show the others your impeccable talent for creating magical events. That way, when the restaurant opens and we start holding functions at the distillery, everyone will be more favorably disposed to throw the business your way. I know you were interested in the McKinnel event contract.”
She was interested in working with the famed McKinnel distillery—was, as in past tense, pre-baby. Now she wasn’t so sure working in such close proximity to Quinn was a good idea. He did crazy things to her insides. Then again, just because he’d approached her, just because he’d be paying the bills for the birthday bash, didn’t mean they’d need to spend much time together. Attending parties might be Quinn’s thing, but he generally left the organizing to others.
“Okay. What kind of event were you thinking?”
He slowly shrugged those big sexy shoulders and she tried not to stare. “Intimate but special. A few of her closest friends and family. A band, maybe a small dance floor. I was thinking we could hire a small marquee and hold the party at the distillery. If it’s still cold, we’ll also hire some heaters for the marquee. I’m sure Lachlan would be interested in catering and testing out some of his new recipes.”
“You haven’t asked him yet?”
He rubbed his lips one over the other. “I wanted to run the idea past you first.”
“Why me? There are other event planners in the vicinity.”
“Because you’re the best.”
The way he said best, and the way he stared intently at her as he did so, wreaked havoc with her already errant hormones. It was almost as if he wasn’t simply referring to her work, but that thought was ridiculous. She tried to push it out of her mind.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she joked.
His lips curled into another grin. “Is that a yes?”
She nodded while silently questioning her sanity. “Have you decided on a date yet?”
“How about we meet for lunch tomorrow and talk details then? You can tell me what else you need from me to get started.”
Lunch? He sounded like he might be a whole lot more involved in the planning than she’d imagined. Her stomach flipped at the thought of spending too much time with Quinn, but maybe working with him to organize this party would help her body and her hormones settle down. Because if she did tell him about the baby, they’d be linked forever and she’d need to be able to talk to him about their child’s welfare without harboring a head full of dirty thoughts.
“Sure, lunch sounds great. Why don’t we meet in Bend and we can choose a theme and then go to the stationers to select the invitations.” Needing to keep in control of this situation, she made it sound like a statement, not a question. If they met in Bend, it would also be less likely that they’d be seen together by someone who knew them.
“I’ll swing by and pick you up on my way.”
“No.” That would make it more like a date—not that Quinn McKinnel did dating, but she needed to protect her own emotions. And being squished against Quinn on the back of his motorcycle would be like throwing her emotions to the piranhas. This was purely a business deal. “I’ll probably do some shopping before or after.” She named a lesser-known café in Bend and a time.
For a moment Quinn looked as if he might argue about not picking her up, but in the end he conceded. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pushed himself off the coffee table and towered above her. Lord, he was tall—all the McKinnels were tall and good-looking, but if they were giving out awards, he’d win.
She put down her milk shake and went to stand.
“No, don’t get up.” He put out a hand to stop her. “I’ll see myself out. You get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Too tired to fight, Bailey let Quinn go and thankfully fatigue consumed her so that she fell asleep quickly and didn’t have time to worry or think about Quinn, the baby or what she’d just agreed to do.
* * *
“Well, hello there.” Callum looked up from behind the tasting bar as Quinn strolled toward him. He had the smug smile on his face—the smile that had been permanently in place since he’d shacked up with Chelsea—and Quinn guessed that one word about the baby would wipe it off. He’d have to tell his brother eventually, but announcing he’d gotten Bailey pregnant was probably not the smartest news to divulge when she hadn’t even told him yet.
Especially as he was still coming to terms with it himself.
Usually, he’d still be in bed at this time on a Saturday morning, but he hadn’t been able to sleep, his head too full with thoughts of Bailey, thoughts of a baby and thoughts of whether or not he really had it in him to be the type of dad he wanted to be.
“We don’t usually see you round here on the weekend,” Callum said as he rubbed at a smudge on the bar with the cuff of his shirt.
Since the warehouse shut down on the weekends, Quinn got Saturdays and Sundays off, whereas Callum and his other siblings who worked at the distillery—Sophie and Blair—worked pretty much 24/7. But that was their choice; he wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty about his. Their dad had been a workaholic (among other things) and in no way did Quinn want to emulate him. Ever since he was sixteen and walked in on his dad fucking a woman who wasn’t his mom, Quinn had vowed to never be like his father. But, in sleeping with Bailey, who hadn’t been available at the time, he’d been just like him.
And now they both needed to face the consequences.
“Is Sophie around?” he asked, ignoring his older brother’s observation.
“She’s grabbing coffees,” Callum said, jerking his thumb down the corridor in the direction of their small staff kitchen.
Before Quinn could say anything more, their sister appeared carrying two steaming mugs. Although she looked surprised to see him, unlike Callum she didn’t verbalize this surprise.
“Hey.” She handed Callum his coffee and then stretched up on tippy-toes and kissed Quinn on the cheek. “How are you today, brother mine?”
He forced a smile. “I’m surviving. And you?”
“Much the same. What brings you in here?” she asked, not sounding accusatory in the slightest.
“I wanted to let you guys know I’m organizing a surprise party for Mom’s sixtieth.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea.” The smile on Sophie’s face showed her approval.
Callum raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t think to run this by the rest of us first?”
“I’m telling you now,” Quinn said, knowing his brother was only annoyed because he hadn’t been the one to think up the brilliant idea. “I’m also telling you that I’ve commissioned Bailey Sawyer to plan it for me.”
Sophie blinked at this news and Callum’s eyes looked positively dark.
Before either of them could say anything, Quinn spoke again. “You know she’s good and we agreed to throw some of our new event business her way. I thought this was as good a place as any to start. I’m meeting her for lunch later today, so let me know if you have any special requests for the party and I’ll pass them on.”
At that moment the door opened and their first customers waltzed in, bringing a gush of cool winter air with them. Their eyes lit up at the sight of the log fire crackling in the middle of one wall, and Sophie went over to greet them.
“Welcome to McKinnel’s Distillery,” she said in her eternally friendly tone. “Cool day out there. Warm yourselves by the fire and allow me to fetch you a taste of our finest bourbon to heat your insides.”
“What game are you playing at, Quinn?” Callum asked, his voice low as Sophie wooed the gray-haired couple.
Truth was, Quinn didn’t know what game he was playing at—he was making it up as he went along. Last night, when he’d stormed over to Bailey’s place, the last thing he’d expected was to ask her help to throw a party, but then she’d looked so tired and vulnerable, and something inside him had shifted. A party for his mom had been the first excuse that came into his head when she’d asked why he was there.
He held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to do something special for Mom.”
Callum’s expression said he didn’t buy this excuse for one second. Well, Quinn didn’t care—as long as Bailey did. He needed to spend as much time as possible with her. He needed to win her trust and respect so that she would feel comfortable inviting him into her life—and their baby’s.
“Are you interested in Bailey?”
Quinn crossed his arms and tried to ignore the guilt he felt at Callum’s accusatory tone. “What if I was?”
“I’d tell you to be careful,” Callum replied, his serious eyes meeting Quinn’s.
He couldn’t tell if his big brother was warning him off for his well-being or for Bailey’s; probably the latter, but either way he could take a hike. Callum had had a chance with Bailey and he’d blown it—if he hadn’t made her feel so alone and unloved, she wouldn’t have come crying to Quinn in the first place. But he had and she did.
Now Callum was with Chelsea, and Bailey was Quinn’s business—even if no one knew it yet.
“You worry too much,” Quinn said, reaching out and patting Callum patronizingly on the chest. Inside he didn’t feel so light and carefree, but he played the part expected of him. “You should be putting all your energies into your gorgeous future wife.”
The fight in Callum’s eyes dimmed at the mention of Chelsea, and Quinn took the chance to escape. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do.”
Callum opened his mouth as if to state his objections, but Quinn walked away, knowing that Callum would never make a scene when they had customers. “Bye, Sophie.” He waved as he headed for the door, then stepped out into the chilly morning air and strode over to his bike.
Next stop was his mom’s house, only a short distance from the actual distillery, also on their family’s estate. He’d lived there with his parents and all six of his siblings growing up, but now his dad was gone and only two of his brothers still lived at home. Lachlan had moved back in with his newborn son years ago when his wife had left them. Mom loved having her grandson under her roof, and Lachlan had been grateful for her help. Blair had moved home two years ago when he’d split with his wife, who’d also been his high school sweetheart. Although he kept making noises about moving into a place of his own, Quinn reckoned he liked Mom’s home cooking too much.
He parked his bike out front, hooked his helmet on the handlebars, walked the small distance to the house and let himself inside. The smell of blueberry pancakes hit him immediately, and his stomach growled in enthusiastic anticipation.
“Looks like I arrived just in time,” he said as he entered the big, country-style kitchen to find his mom laying the pancakes on the table. Lachlan and his son, Hamish, sat at the other end playing chess.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Nora said as Quinn hugged her. “Has your stomach got some kind of homing beacon on it?”
He laughed and then went over to ruffle Hamish’s hair. “Hey, dude, how’s it hanging?”
“Hi, Uncle Quinn.” Hamish’s words slurred slightly as usual. “I’m beating Dad at chess. Want a game?”
Quinn’s heart swelled with love and pride for his nephew, who, with cerebral palsy, hadn’t had an easy time in his short life but was always happy and positive. A lot of that was to do with his dad; none of the credit could go to his mother, who hadn’t been able to handle a special-needs child.
“Why not?” he said. “But I warn you, I’m worse than your father.”
“Hey!” Lachlan objected, a grin on his face. “Anyway, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
As his mom had turned back to the stove, Quinn moved closer to his brother and whispered, “I want to talk to you about Mom’s birthday. Where’s Blair?”
“In the shower, then I think he’s heading over to the distillery to run a tour.”
Quinn devoured four pancakes, chatted to his mom, brother and nephew about stuff Hamish was learning at school, lost a game of chess, and then stood and made his excuses. “I’ve got to head into Bend for a meeting. I’ll catch you all later.” He made eye contact with Lachlan, indicating he should see him out.
“You’ve got a meeting?” Nora asked.
He smiled at her. “Don’t sound so surprised.” Then he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, before exiting the kitchen.
Lachlan followed. “I’ll see Quinn out,” he called over his shoulder.
Once they were safely outside, Quinn relayed his party plans.
“That’s a great idea,” Lachlan said, not making any comment about Bailey’s involvement. “And of course I’ll cater.” He had that gleam in his eyes he got whenever he was talking about food, and Quinn could tell he was already conjuring up a menu. “So that’s what your meeting is about? You’re seeing Bailey?”
Quinn nodded once and hoped Lachlan didn’t notice his Adam’s apple move slowly up and down. He felt bad lying to Lachlan, although technically he wasn’t. “Can you fill Blair in when you see him? I’ll try to catch Annabel this afternoon.”
“I’m glad you’re getting her involved.”
“Who? Annabel?” Of course he’d include their sister in any decisions.
“No, idiot. Bailey.”
“Ah. Right.”
“She’s been such a big part of the family for so long, even before she and Callum were together, that it seems wrong not to have her around anymore. Callum’s moved on and it was her decision to end things, so I’m just hoping everything won’t have to change too much. Hamish misses her, our families are so linked, and I think hiring Bailey to help is a good plan to fix any rifts caused by her breaking up with Callum. Is she cool with helping now Chelsea is on the scene?”
Quinn had no idea what Bailey thought of Callum’s new fiancée—their night had happened before all that and he’d steered clear of her since—but he guessed Chelsea was the least of her problems now. “Yes, seems to be. Bailey’s a professional.”
Lachlan nodded. “Yes, you’re right. She is.”
For a moment Quinn considered confiding in his brother—he and Lachlan had always been closer than he and Callum, and as Lachlan was a dad, he’d be more likely to understand the mixed feelings consuming Quinn right now. Panic, guilt, anger—he had them all. He wanted to ask how Lachlan had felt when he’d first discovered his ex-wife was pregnant. If he’d ever doubted his abilities as a father. If he instinctively knew what to do when his babies were first placed in his arms. If there was any parenting how-to book he absolutely should buy.
But he swallowed his questions, summoned a carefree grin onto his face and punched Lachlan playfully on the arm. “We’ll chat soon and Bailey will probably be in contact, as well.”
“Okay, I’ll look forward to it.”
As his brother slipped back inside the house, Quinn wondered how Bailey had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret so far, because he’d known less than twenty-four hours and was already desperate to confide in someone.
Chapter Three (#ucd0fecc5-dcbd-5824-a2ce-88865f3ead67)
Arriving early, Quinn paused outside the café in downtown Bend and peered in through the window, checking to see if Bailey had arrived yet. He immediately located her at a table in the corner, leaning over a newspaper as if it had the answers to world peace scrawled across the pages.
And man, she was beautiful. Her dark, shiny hair fell slightly across her eyes, and without the pajamas of last night, she was back to her immaculately dressed self—black leggings, knee-high boots to match a long knit sweater thing, bright chunky jewelry hanging around her neck. She looked together, refreshed and pregnant.
No one else might be able to tell, but to him the differences were obvious. Her skin definitely glowed, and even from this vantage point, he noted her breasts had increased at least a cup size. Quinn swallowed at the recollection of exactly how those breasts had felt in his hands, her nipples growing tight as he’d swiped his tongue over the top of them. He hadn’t had sex like that in a long time.
Quinn caught himself. Was this the way he should be thinking about the mother of his child? Despite the cool temperature of the day, a flush crawled up his neck at the thought. Then again, maybe this was exactly the way he should be thinking—it wouldn’t be a hardship getting serious with Bailey, as his libido was already a hundred percent behind the idea. He might not have planned on committing to anyone, but he’d make damn sure he never did to his child what his dad had done to him. And that meant doing right by the kid’s mother.
The door to the café opened as a group of women emerged, giggling. He straightened as they all paused to give him the once-over. The two blondes, the brunette and the redhead were dressed as if they’d just come from a dance club or yoga class. Normally, presented with four hot women, he’d take a moment to flirt a little and get a phone number or two for his little black book, but today he barely gave them a second glance.
As they giggled off down the sidewalk, Quinn turned back to look at Bailey. She was still engrossed in the newspaper, but pretty soon she’d start wondering where he was. He couldn’t remember feeling nervous about anything in his life, but his stomach was churning and his palms sweating.
Nothing had ever mattered as much as this did. He couldn’t afford to mess it up.
Telling himself to get a grip, Quinn strode the few steps to the door and pulled it open. He made a beeline for Bailey, but she didn’t look up until his shadow fell across the table. He glanced down at the newspaper and saw exactly what had captured her attention.
“Hello, Bailey.”
“Oh. Hi, Quinn.” She looked up at him, slammed the paper shut and then shot him a guilty grin, as if she’d been caught in a criminal act. “Have a seat.”
She failed dismally in sounding professional and he smiled knowingly as he unwrapped his thick scarf from around his neck. He folded and placed it over the back of the vacant chair, then peeled off his leather jacket and did the same with it. He didn’t think much about the act of doing so, but Bailey’s eyes widened as if he were some stripper in a male revue and her cheeks grew pink when he caught her looking. It appeared the attraction was still very much present for both of them and the knowledge pleased him immensely.
