CHAPTER 21
“Shouldn’t we wait until I’m open for business before you write about my practice?” Ean straightened from his crouch, allowing the tape measure feed to snap back into its case. He tried to ignore Darius as he recorded the measurement of his office’s width.
His stomach growled again. It was almost 1 P.M. on Saturday, but he wanted to finish this last room before he and Darius broke for lunch.
“You’ll be open in a couple of weeks.” The reporter spoke from his perch on the office’s bay window. “Besides, your practice will be old news if I wait until it opens. So quit the bullshit and give me a quote, asshole.”
Surprised laughter burst from Ean. “Do you get a lot of interviews with that attitude?”
Darius gave him a reluctant smile. “This article will be free publicity for you, man. What’s the problem?”
“It’s easier to talk about cases than myself.” Ean crouched again. This time, he measured the room’s length. “What do you want me to say?”
“Just answer my questions—”
“First answer mine.” Quincy’s voice interrupted them.
Ean rose, turning to face the university professor. He ignored the temper snapping in Quincy’s eyes. “Hey, Q. What brings you to my humble office?”
Quincy stepped forward. “Why did you tell Ramona that I’m going to Philadelphia?”
“Because you are,” Darius answered. “Penn is going to offer you its faculty position. If you’re smart, which you are, you’ll accept it.”
Quincy scowled at the reporter before meeting Ean’s eyes again. “Were you trying to set me up with Ramona?”
Darius laughed. “Ean wouldn’t do that.”
Ean spoke over the other man. “Yes, I was.”
“What? W-why?” Darius stuttered.
“Because he’s the great Ean Fever.” Quincy sounded as though he was chewing glass. “No one measures up to him. He’s too damn perfect. He has no choice but to help us mere mortals because we could never be as perfect as he is.”
“Quincy, you know damn well that’s not what I was thinking.” Ean pulled a hand through his close-cropped hair.
“Grow up, Q.” Darius turned to Ean. “Dude, what were you on?”
Ean cast his gaze around the freshly painted white walls before meeting Quincy’s snapping eyes. “Ramona and I broke up six years ago. You had all that time to make your move. Why didn’t you? Are you that big of a coward?”
Quincy’s scowl darkened. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Your friend.”
Darius rose from the bay window ledge and put a hand on Quincy’s shoulder. “Only a friend would tell you the truth. And the truth is, Q, you’ve been a gutless wonder with Ramona. I should have told you that six years ago.”
Quincy shrugged Darius’s hand from his shoulder. “You’re one to talk. Do you think people don’t realize why you sneak over to the next town every weekend? You’re dating some woman over there because you don’t want her to meet your family.”
Darius’s expression tightened. “You’d hide your dates, too, if you had my family.”
Quincy lowered his head and braced his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry, man. That was uncalled for.”
Darius shook his head. “No harm, no foul, brother.”
“So what’s the problem, Quincy?” Ean crossed his arms over his chest. “Why haven’t you tried to get something going with Ramona?”
Quincy paced the empty room, from the bay window past Darius and Ean, to the far wall and back. His movements were stiff and abrupt, as though he was debating with himself.
The professor finally stopped in front of the window, his back to the room. “I don’t like to lose.”
“Who does?” Ean glanced at Darius. What did that have to do with anything?
The former running back turned from the view outside the office and held Ean’s eyes. “If Ramona turned me down, it would mean that you won and I lost.”
“Ramona isn’t a trophy we’re competing for.” Ean’s voice snapped.
Darius scratched his chin. “I thought you liked Ramona.”
“I love her.” Quincy spoke as though forcing out the words.
Darius’s frown deepened. “If you love her, ask her out.”
The conflict in Quincy’s eyes added to Ean’s frustration. “In your mind, you’ve worked me into this perfect person who’s really popular and never wrong. I don’t know where that came from.”
Darius shrugged. “It’s bullshit.”
Ean spared the former tight end a glance but otherwise ignored him. “It’s not true. I don’t even see myself that way.”
Darius shook his head. “Neither do I.”
“Ask her out.” Ean clamped a hand on Quincy’s shoulder. “Even if she says no, you wouldn’t have lost.”
Quincy snorted and turned away. “That’s what you think.”
His friend’s reluctance was a wall Ean couldn’t break through. “How do you know if she could love you if you don’t give her a chance?”
Quincy quirked a brow. “Since you told her I’m leaving Trinity Falls, how do I know whether she loves me or the idea of moving to Philadelphia?”
Good question.
Ean exhaled as memories returned. “When Ramona left New York, I realized she never loved me. She loved the dream of living in New York. I was just a part of that dream.”
Quincy pulled his hands over his clean-shaven head. “Why did you tell her about the Penn interview?”
“Let it go, Q.” Darius leaned back against the bay window’s ledge. “This is Trinity Falls. It’s not like she wasn’t going to find out.”
“Philadelphia gives you an in with her.” Ean propped his shoulder against the room’s far wall.
Quincy grunted. “New York didn’t help you keep Ramona.”
Ean shrugged. “I didn’t love her, either. We were too much alike, like brother and sister.”
Darius looked closely at Ean, as though seeing him from another perspective. “I’d never thought of that.”
Ean hadn’t, either, not until Megan had pointed it out—Megan, who’d stormed from his town house Friday night. What would it take to convince her he hadn’t slept with her cousin?
Darius turned to Quincy. “Ean’s right. Use Philly to get Ramona’s attention. What do you have to lose?”
“Everything.” Quincy’s answer was bleak.
“If you love her, it’s worth the risk, Q.” Ean spoke from the heart. He was just beginning to realize he was falling fast and hard for Megan McCloud.
As though his thoughts had conjured her, Megan appeared in the office doorway, cradling a potted plant. She wore blue jeans and a black jersey, with the image of a green bookworm reading a brown book.
She smiled and the room was warmer, brighter. Her laughing eyes moved from Ean to Quincy to Darius on the far side of the office. “You guys look so serious.”
Darius stood away from the window. “Quincy and I were just leaving.”
Quincy looked startled. “No, we weren’t.”
Darius placed a hand on his friend’s back and propelled him forward. “Are you sure you have an advanced degree?”
“Why are you always questioning that?” Quincy’s voice carried a wealth of irritation.
Their quarrelsome exchange faded as they left the office suite.
Ean sighed. “They’re like grouchy old men. I’d forgotten that.”
Megan turned away from the door. “I think you’re all like brothers.”
Indeed, they were. They didn’t have real brothers. Darius and Ean were only children, and Quincy had an older sister.
Ean held his breath as their eyes met. “You haven’t returned my calls.”
Why had he said that? He sounded like a sulky child. Not the image he wanted to project to the person with whom he was falling in love.
Megan came closer. “I’m sorry. I reacted . . . just reacted yesterday. After I calmed down, I knew you were telling me the truth.”
“How?” Ean glanced at the plant—bamboo shoots—before looking into her melted-chocolate eyes again.
Megan drew her right hand through her dark hair. “You wouldn’t have made love to me if you were still attracted to Ramona.”
Ean felt as though she’d kissed him full on his mouth. He licked his lips. The movement drew Megan’s gaze. Her eyes darkened. Ean’s body heated.
He pushed away from the wall and came closer to her. He brushed her hair back, smoothing the wavy locks she’d tousled. The pulse in the base of her neck fluttered like a hummingbird. His fingers itched to touch it.
Ean inclined his head toward the potted plant she held. “What’s that?”
Megan blinked down at her arms as though she’d forgotten she was carrying anything. “Bamboo shoots.” She extended the plant toward him. “They’re an office-warming gift for you.”
“Thank you.” Ean accepted the gift. He examined the simple pale green ceramic planter, which held the four leafy stalks.
“Sure.” Megan cleared her throat. “You’re welcome.”
“No one’s ever bought me a potted plant before.” Ean carried the planter to the bay window. He placed it on the center of the ledge and stepped back to look at it. It seemed lost on the shelf by itself.
“They’re for good luck.”
Ean laughed. “I can use some of that.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re going to be a success.”
“I hope so.” Ean faced Megan. His gaze dropped to the image of the somber-faced bookworm on her T-shirt. It’s head rested against her breasts. Lucky bookworm. “This practice was Ms. Helen’s idea.”
Megan chuckled. “Then you know it will succeed.”
Ean slipped his hands into the front pockets of his blue jeans. “How does she know so much about what’s happening in Trinity Falls? I’ve never seen her leave that porch.”
“She makes it into the bookstore now and again.” Megan wandered the office, seemingly engrossed in the nothingness all around them. “I returned Ramona’s bra to her this morning.”
Ean raised his brows. “How did that go?”
“About as well as you’d imagine. She didn’t appreciate my confronting her.”
Ean crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s not used to you standing up to her.”
“I’m not used to my standing up to her.” Megan laughed.
“Then why did you?”
Megan stared out the bay window. “I was tired. Tired of her bullying me, pushing me around and taking what I wanted.”
Ean’s heart skipped. “Me?”
Megan met his gaze over her shoulder. “Yes. I wasn’t going to let her take you from me.”
His heart sped up. “What did she say?”
“She seems to think I don’t have a prayer of holding on to you.”
Surprised laughter burst from Ean’s throat. “She’s wrong.”
A playful smile curved Megan’s generous lips. “That’s nice to hear. She also asked about Quincy moving to Philadelphia.”
“What did you say?”
“I thought that was a strange question.” Megan faced him. A look of suspicion sparked in her eyes. “Do you know anything about her sudden interest in Quincy’s plans?”
“I might, but I’ll let Quincy tell you about it.”
Megan’s eyes stretched wide with amazement. “Ean Fever, you’re playing matchmaker. I never imagined you as a romantic.”
“Maybe you’re changing me.” Ean stepped closer to her.
She laughed. “I’m not a romantic.”
“Then maybe we’re changing each other.” He drew her into his arms.
Megan tilted her head and searched his eyes. “For the better, I hope.”
“Would either of us have it any other way?”