Quinn saw the naked fear on Meghan’s face and he felt like he’d do anything to make it go away. He reached a hand out to her and she jerked away, even though he hadn’t touched her.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, but it was as if she hadn’t heard him.
She turned away from him, pressing one fist hard to her forehead. “I should have been here. I’m always here. And Polly doesn’t do change.” She took a gulping, shuddering breath. “She could be anywhere. Who knows what she was thinking or feeling...”
“Then let’s go find her,” Quinn said steadily. “I’ll drive and you can look.”
“What if she’s not on a road?” Meghan demanded, her voice high and shrill. “What if she’s in the woods or by the river...” She stopped abruptly, biting her lip, and Quinn felt his stomach muscles clench.
The river. Bad things happened at the river. On the river. He knew the ice had melted, although great chunks of it still churned in the dark water. Would Polly be tempted to go there, by herself, in the dark? He didn’t think so, but he didn’t really know Polly or understand how her mind worked.
“Let’s think logically,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Where do you think she would go?”
“I don’t know—” Meghan closed her eyes briefly. “It depends on what her mood was like. If she was angry with me not being at home, she might go off into the woods in a temper. But if she was scared or sad...” Her voice hitched and Quinn ached to take her into his arms. The urge surprised him, strong as it was. He didn’t do that sort of thing. He didn’t like emotion; no one in his family did. It was messy, complicated, painful. But right now he wanted to make Meghan feel better. That was paramount, along with finding Polly.
“This is totally my fault,” she said, her voice ragged with self-recrimination. “I should have been here. I should have been here.”
“Blaming yourself now won’t do any good right now, Meghan,” Quinn said. “Why don’t we divide and conquer? I’ll look in the woods and you can drive around town.”
“You don’t know the woods. I’ll go there and you can drive.” Meghan’s tortured gaze met his fleetingly before she looked away.
“Okay. We’ll do that. You have your phone?”
“Yes, but the cell reception is patchy, especially in the woods.”
“Take it anyway. I have mine.”
“I don’t actually have your number—”
“Here.” Quinn took her phone and programmed his number into it, and then sent a text from her phone to his. He’d rather stay with her, make sure she was okay along with Polly, but he knew Meghan needed to act. He handed her back her phone and then took her by the shoulders, needing to touch her, to comfort her as best as he could. “It’s going to be all right.”
He didn’t miss the flash of anger that lit her eyes before she twisted away from him. “You can’t say that,” she said. “You don’t know that. How could you possibly know that?”
Quinn blinked, forcing down the affront—no, the hurt—he felt at her words. She was upset and angry with herself. He couldn’t take what she said at face value.
“Maybe not,” he agreed calmly. “But panicking won’t help Polly.”
She bit her lip, and then with a jerky nod she tossed him her car keys. “Use my truck. Polly will recognize it, if you see her. I’ll go look in the woods.” And she turned and walked out of the house.
Quinn took a measured breath. It was true, he didn’t know that things were going to be okay. Still, he wanted her to trust him, to lean on him, and she wasn’t having it. Could he really blame her? No one had leaned on him, ever. But right now he wished one woman would.
He trawled the few streets of Creighton Falls slowly, hunched over the wheel, peering into the darkness. The village green was empty, the gazebo abandoned. He stopped the truck in front of the diner and had a look through the fogged windows at the handful of people occupying the vinyl booths, but he couldn’t see Polly. He thought about alerting people to the fact that she was missing, but he suspected Meghan wouldn’t want everyone in her business. She’d barely wanted to involve him.
He checked his phone repeatedly, but had nothing from Meghan. Reception was patchy anywhere in the town, so he couldn’t even be sure he’d get a text or call anyway. Fifteen minutes had passed and he was starting to feel antsy, wondering if they should call the police. He couldn’t suppress a creeping alarm, a choking sense of fear; he couldn’t remember feeling it before and yet it was eerily familiar. That blank place in his mind was starting to fill with shadowy, time-misted shapes.
He turned down the road out of town that led to the defunct marina and a couple of old farmhouses, including Sam and Hannah’s. And he slammed on the brakes when he saw a figure huddled by the side of the road, knees drawn to chest as she rocked.
“Polly.” He was halfway out of the truck, his voice loud and harsh in the silence of the cold night, when he realized he needed to calm down. He closed the door carefully, gave Meghan’s sister a reassuring smile. “Hey. Remember me? Quinn?”
Tears streaked Polly’s face and she was trembling with cold. “Yes...” Her voice wobbled uncertainly.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“I wanted to find Daisy, but it’s so dark...”
Of course. Polly had been near-obsessed with Sam and Hannah’s puppy last weekend. “Meghan’s looking for you. Do you want to get in the truck and I’ll take you to her?”
Polly bit her lip, her round-eyed gaze moving from Quinn to the truck. “Meghan always says I shouldn’t get in cars with strangers.”
“That’s right. But this is Meghan’s truck, and I’m not exactly a stranger, am I?”
“No...” Polly started to rock back and forth again, her arms still wrapped around her shivering body. She let out a choked sob. “I want Meghan. I want Meghan.”
“Of course you do.” Compassion twisted hard inside him; Polly had clearly reached the end of her fragile resources. “Meghan wants to see you, Polly,” he said. “She’s waiting for you.” He had one wavering bar of reception on his phone, and he pressed Meghan’s number, praying the call would go through.
“Quinn?” Meghan’s voice faded in and out amidst static but she managed to hear his response.
“I’ve found her.”
“Oh thank God—”
“Here she is.” He handed the phone to Polly, who let out another sob as she clutched at the phone.
“Meghan—”
“Polly, go with Quinn, okay? I’m waiting at home. Go with him—” The connection crackled and went dead. Polly stared at Quinn.
“See?” he said encouragingly. “I’ll take you to Meghan.”
He took the phone from Polly and then put one hand carefully on her shoulder. “Come get in the truck, Polly, and I’ll take you right to her, promise.”
Polly nodded jerkily and Quinn started to guide her toward the truck. She didn’t resist, and slowly he managed to get her in, buckled into the passenger seat. He hopped in the driver’s side and turned the truck around before driving back to Meghan’s house.
Meghan was wrenching the door from the hinges before he’d come to a stop. She ran around to the passenger side and yanked open the door, letting out a sob as she put her arms around Polly.
“Meghan, I couldn’t find you,” Polly exclaimed tearfully, and then buried her head in her sister’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Polly. I’m so, so sorry.” Meghan stroked her sister’s hair, her arms tight around her.
Quinn got out of the truck. “Why don’t we go inside,” he suggested, and wordlessly, her arms still around her sister, Meghan guided them both inside. Quinn closed the door of the truck and followed.
He wanted to make himself useful, but Meghan wasn’t even looking at him as she bustled around, getting a sandwich and Coke for Polly and turning on Amazing Wedding Cakes, clearly the comfort drill. Quinn waited, wanting to help, and it took him a few minutes to realize Meghan actually was angry, and maybe even with him.
She ushered him into the kitchen when Polly was settled in front of the TV and then stood there like a school matron, arms folded, chin held high. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “For finding her.”
“I’m just glad I did.” Quinn looked at her closely, trying to figure out where the anger was coming from. “What’s going on, Meghan?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head, biting her lip, and for a second Quinn didn’t think she was going to say anything. “I should have been here,” she finally said, her voice cracking. “If anything had happened...”
“But nothing did.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Meghan answered with a vehement shake of her head. “I shouldn’t have been away from home.” She raised eyes full of both resentment and tears. “I shouldn’t have been with you.”
Ah. So that’s what it was. He’d distracted her from being a saint. “You’re allowed to have a life, Meghan.”
“Says who?”
“The important thing is nothing bad happened and you were here, in the end. Don’t beat yourself up over this, Meghan.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I know I don’t,” Quinn answered evenly. “But I want to. I want to help.”
“Why—” she demanded, the word torn from her, and damned if he had an answer. He could see she was struggling with tears and this time they didn’t alarm him. He did the only thing he felt he could do, the thing that felt so natural and completely right. He hugged her.
Meghan’s body went rigid with shock and for a few seconds Quinn felt like he was hugging a block of wood. Then she melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him as she pressed her face into his shoulder. Her body shook with the force of her emotion and Quinn realizing she was crying. Sobbing, actually, and it was okay. He stroked her back and whispered soothing nonsense and after a few minutes she pushed herself away from him, scrubbing her face with her hands. “I need to deal with Polly.”
“I’ll be here.”
“It might be awhile—”
“I’ll wait.”
She nodded, her hands still covering her face, and then she dropped them and without looking at him left the room.
What was happening? Every emotion, every fear and need and hope, felt too close to the surface as Meghan went back into the living room and sat next to Polly. She put her arm around her sister and pressed her face, still wet with tears, against her hair. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried like that. Certainly not since she’d been a child. She’d probably completely freaked Quinn out, except... he hadn’t seemed freaked out. He’d been patient and kind and so wonderfully understanding, even though she still struggled with an irrational anger that this was at least in part his fault. If he hadn’t been in her life, if he wasn’t such a delicious distraction...
But no, she couldn’t really blame Quinn. The only person to blame was herself, for being distracted, for putting Polly second. For risking her sister’s life. Meghan let out a shuddering breath and tightened her grip on Polly’s shoulder.
“Ouch, too tight,” Polly complained, and she relaxed a little.
“Sorry, Poll.”
She could hear Quinn moving about in the kitchen and wondered what he was doing. Wondered, too, how long he would wait, and what would happen after Polly went to bed. Was he expecting another booty call? She was way too drained, and even though part of her resisted the idea, she figured she should end things with Quinn tonight. There wasn’t room in her life for Polly and a relationship, even a no-strings fling one. There just wasn’t.
She watched the rest of Amazing Wedding Cakes with Polly, all the while wondering what Quinn was up to. Maybe he was just avoiding an awkward scene. After the episode was over, Meghan helped Polly to get ready for bed even though it wasn’t that late. Her sister was completely exhausted.
“I’m glad Quinn found me,” Polly said once she was snuggled in bed, Meghan perched on its edge.
“So am I, Poll.”
“Where were you?” There was no accusation in her sister’s voice, just curiosity, and yet Meghan still felt a hot rush of guilt. And of something else, as she remembered that afternoon with Quinn. The desperate urgency she’d felt, along with the pleasure and the happiness. Well, she’d snatched her moment, and now it was over.
“I got caught up at work.”
“Caught up?” Polly wrinkled her nose. “Who was catching you?”
“Sorry, it’s just an expression.” Polly always took things literally. “I was busy and I didn’t realize how late it was, that’s all.”
“Quinn’s nice, though, isn’t he?”
So already her sister was becoming attached. Just as she was. “Yes, Polly, he’s nice. But he’s leaving soon.”
“Where is he going?”
“Home.”
“But this is home.”
Smiling sadly, Meghan shook her head. She didn’t think she was up for an explanation right then, and thankfully Polly was too sleepy to demand one. A few minutes later her sister’s eyelids were fluttering and Meghan slipped out of her room. Time to face Quinn.
She came into the kitchen, stopping short when she saw the table laid for two, and several pots bubbling on the stove.
“What...”
“I hope you don’t mind. I thought you’d be hungry.”
She was hungry, and she was also dumbfounded. Quinn had cooked for her? “Thank you,” she managed. “It smells delicious.”
“Just basic pasta.” He’d managed to take the few wilting vegetables from her fridge and turn them into a primavera sauce, which was more than she did most nights.
“It looks and smells amazing.”
“Shall we eat?” Quinn started to ladle the pasta and sauce onto two plates while Meghan stood there, physically exhausted, emotionally spent, and wondering just what was going on. He’d magicked a bottle of white wine from somewhere—Meghan certainly hadn’t had one in the cupboard—and poured them both glasses.
“Thank you,” Meghan said. Quinn put his hand on her shoulders and guided her to a kitchen chair. She slumped into it, accepting the glass of wine Quinn pressed into her hand. Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had any left. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“All I did was make dinner.”
“Still.” She took a sip of wine, not sure whether she wanted to press the point. Maybe she should take this kindness at face value. Except she’d decided to end it with Quinn tonight. Yet how could she do that when he’d held her as she’d cried and made her dinner afterward?
Quinn sat across from her, smiling, looking relaxed. “Dig in,” he said, and Meghan picked up her fork.
The pasta was simple but delicious, and tasted even better for someone else having made it. “I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me,” Meghan said.
Quinn cocked his head. “Sounds like it’s about time.”
Meghan took a deep breath. “Quinn...” she began, although she didn’t know how to finish it. How did you end a fling? It was fun but...? Shouldn’t that have been his line?
“Tell me about Polly,” Quinn said, and Meghan’s breath leaked from her lungs.
“What...?”
“Tell me about her,” he repeated quietly. “Why are you her sole caretaker? What are her issues? How do you cope?” He leaned back in his seat, smiling faintly although his eyes were serious. “Tell me, Meghan. I want to know.”
“Why?” she burst out. “We’re just...”
“Friends,” he inserted firmly. “We can be friends, can’t we?”
“I don’t know. This wasn’t... what I expected.”
“Me neither, and yet here we are.” He paused, his expression turning wary. “Do you... want to tell me?” he asked, and for the first time he sounded uncertain. Vulnerable.
And Meghan realized she did want to tell him. A lot. She wanted to talk to someone honestly and openly, someone who listened and cared. And amazingly, right now that person was Quinn.
She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, and Quinn settled back in his seat to listen.