Close to Home Part 19

"Well." Miss Patty gave Tessa a look br.i.m.m.i.n.g with amus.e.m.e.nt. "That's a very optimistic viewpoint from a man who, until recently, didn't really believe in all that lovey-dovey stuff."

"I'm a changed man," Johnny declared, and Tessa knew it was true.

Oh, he'd always been a good man. The best of men, her own personal hero. But there was a lightness to Johnny now, a happiness, that he'd never had before. It warmed her down to her bones to think that she was a part of that. She never wanted to do anything to dim that light.

That made it hard to do what had to be done, but it was time.

"Johnny. I adore you for how much you believe love conquers all-believe me, nothing makes me happier than to hear you say that. But ... we need to talk."

Chapter 23.

Instantly realizing how dire that sounded, Tessa tried to laugh. "I mean, there are things we need to talk about! Not, like ... we need to talk."

"What kinds of things?" Johnny asked, pausing in the act of pouring himself a finger of bourbon.

"The kinds of things that I'm afraid won't just work themselves out, no matter how much we love each other." Tessa bit her lip, hoping she didn't sound like she was angry. She wasn't-but this conversation did mean a lot to her. She felt a little tongue-tied and emotional, Johnny was looking at her with wary concern darkening his beautiful eyes ... and Miss Patty was hauling herself up off the love seat.

"Well," Patty said loudly. "I think I'll go take me a stroll around my garden. A garden at dusk is a joy to be savored, my mama always said. Call me in for dinner, won't you? If dinner ever happens."

The last bit was mumbled on her way out the door, and Tessa had to laugh, although it felt strained. "Poor Patty. All these fighting couples, forcing her out of her own house."

Johnny set his gla.s.s down and crossed the carpet to take her hands in his. "Are we fighting? I don't want to fight with you, honey."

"I don't want to fight, either," she said firmly, gazing up into the face she loved best in the world. "But we do need to talk. About what happens next."

"What happens next is that we get married, for real this time, in front of the people who love you. The way you deserve."

They were technically still married, Tessa knew, since the divorce papers had been destroyed before they were ever made official, but she didn't argue the point. This would be their real wedding ceremony, the one they would remember for the rest of their lives, and they were both treating it that way.

But she couldn't let all of it go by without comment. "Us, Johnny. They love us, the people here. You as much as me."

Johnny smiled indulgently and brought her hands up to press a scratchy kiss against her knuckles. She could tell he didn't really believe her, but it was true. Patty had been a fan from the beginning, but she'd delivered her unabashed approval of Johnny in the past few weeks. Marcus was well on the way to becoming a true friend, now that the two of them had worked out their issues in whatever macho male way made sense to them. They were putting down roots here, on Sanctuary Island. Both of them were. But how could she make Johnny see that? How could she hope he would value that over returning to his job at the ATF?

If their work together with Dr. Voss had taught Tessa anything, it was that a lot of their problems had come from keeping silent. Speaking up might be harder, it might start a fire that would be hard to put out, but it cleared the air and made new growth possible. So she took a deep breath and said, "I don't want to go back to D.C. I want to live here, with you, after we're married. I know that makes things hard for you, with your job-"

"I quit."

Tessa froze, her world rocked to the core. "You what?"

"I called Brad a week ago, and I resigned from the bureau." Johnny shrugged, but his eyes were sharp and watchful, waiting for her reaction. "I was going to tell you as a wedding present, but if you're worrying about it, I'd rather tell you now and ease your mind. Besides, I have something else in the works, that I'm hoping I can make happen as your wedding gift."

Shaking her head, Tessa tried to take it in. "You left the ATF. Johnny, I don't know what to say. You love that job."

"I love you. And this is where your life is. So this is where I want to be."

The words floored her. Not just the words themselves, but the certainty with which he uttered them. Overcome, Tessa dropped her head to his chest and simply breathed in the soap-and-leather scent of the man she loved.

The man who was rearranging his entire life for her.

Even though it was everything she'd wanted, guilt rose up to stifle her. "You didn't have to do that, Johnny. We could have figured something out together."

"You uprooted your entire life to follow me wherever my career led us for years," Johnny pointed out. "Some people might say it's your turn. But that's not even the main reason."

Tessa tilted her head up to look at him. "Oh?"

He paused, long enough to make Tessa wonder what he was about to reveal.

"I don't regret the work I did with the ATF. It was good work, and I know I did some good in the world. But I think it's time for me to figure out who I am when I'm not obsessed with trying to save everyone in the world all the time. That's an impossible goal, and it was driving me slowly crazy. I want to narrow my focus for a while-maybe try to save myself first. See if I can keep your heart safe. Work at the bar, take care of Patty and Quinn and Marcus-not that he'd admit he needs it. And who knows? Maybe we'll add a person or two to our little family as we go along."

Tessa's heart popped like a firecracker, whirling light and sparks and joy. "I like that idea. I like it a lot."

Sliding a hand into her hair, Johnny smiled, slow and wolfish. "Maybe we should skip dinner and get started on that project right away."

Tessa started to feel warm and a little dizzy with how much she wanted him. "Yes. Let's do that. Marcus and Quinn won't miss us, and Miss Patty will understand."

"Miss Patty understands everything," Johnny agreed, taking her by the hand and leading her up the stairs to the room they shared. "I don't know where we'd be without her."

"Let's hope she'll give Quinn and Marcus advice that's half as good as what she gave us." Tessa squeezed her once-and-future husband's hand. "And let's hope, for their sake, they listen, before they break each other's hearts."

Marcus was going to have to break Quinn's heart.

The last words he'd spoken hung between them in the silence like a handful of knives, waiting to slice them up.

I don't need you.

Marcus regarded Quinn as if she were on the other side of a deep, unnavigable ocean. Tears-tears he'd caused-stood in her eyes, trembling in her lashes, and all he wanted was to reach out and cup her head to draw her in close enough to kiss them away.

But he couldn't do that. Because he'd already screwed her life up enough. He'd broken his own rules and gotten in too deep, and now Quinn was throwing away the best chance she'd had at a real career so that she could pull pints and play house with Marcus.

Unacceptable.

"Maybe you don't think you need me," Quinn started, tilting that dimpled chin up defiantly. "But I'm a bigger a.s.set than you think."

Marcus wished, for a fleeting instant, that he had the skills to do this the gentle way. But he had to make it stick. So he gave her a calculated leer and said, "I know all about your a.s.sets, sweetheart."

That dried her tears in a hurry, but it didn't send her rus.h.i.+ng out the door. Instead, it seemed to make her angry.

Okay. Angry was better than sad, and definitely better than infatuated.

"Don't be gross," she snarled. It was like watching a puppy face down a mountain lion.

Marcus forced himself to shrug. "Hey, I said I didn't need you, not that I don't want you. Feel free to come over anytime. This town doesn't have enough action for me to turn any down, especially action as good as you."

"Action. That's all I am to you."

He looked her straight in the eye. "I never said different."

Nodding slowly, Quinn scanned his face as if she were memorizing his features-probably so she could make an accurate voodoo doll later. "No, you've never said I mattered to you the way you matter to me. Not in so many words."

"Not in any way at all," Marcus clarified, his guard going up.

This wasn't going quite how Marcus had imagined it. And oh, yeah, he'd definitely seen this moment coming down the pike. Pretty much from the first moment he kissed Quinn, he knew they'd end up here eventually. He'd imagined more sobbing, more dramatic declarations. But Quinn had never done exactly what he expected, and she didn't start now.

"I may be young," she said softly, "but I'm not an idiot. And I'm not completely inexperienced. I know that what we have is something special."

Marcus couldn't afford to waver. Not now. "What we had," he corrected her firmly. "It's been fun, sweetheart, but you need to move on with your life. And so do I."

Her eyes narrowed, the fringe of her lashes stark black against the milky paleness of her freckled cheeks. "Why are you doing this?"

Because I need to get out now, while I still can.

The words tickled the back of his throat, nearly triggering his gag reflex, but he choked them back. Hoped his face conveyed nothing more than how little time he had for this c.r.a.p. "It's for the best. You'll see."

A shrill shriek from above shocked them both into motion. It was the smoke alarm, and Marcus cursed as he turned back to the stovetop where his omelet was scorching sullenly to the bottom of the pan.

When he'd turned off the heat and moved the skillet to a cold burner, he glanced back to see Quinn on her way out the door. Despite himself, despite everything he knew to be true about himself and the way the world worked, the sight made his guts clench up. But he said nothing.

Instead, Quinn got the last word. Standing in the kitchen doorway, she gave him one last, very unimpressed look.

"You talk about how young and inexperienced I am," she said, meeting his eyes without flinching. "But time and life will take care of those terrible flaws. You-Marcus, you're a coward. And no amount of time is going to change that."

It was a good parting shot, and he let her have it. From down the hall, he heard female voices speaking softly, then the incredibly final sound of the front door closing. Moving on autopilot, Marcus picked up a spatula and walked over to sc.r.a.pe the disgusting, rubbery bits of egg into the sink. He couldn't help thinking of the last omelet he made, and the woman he made it for.

When an elderly lady's voice came from behind him, it almost could have been the voice from his memories, come back to haunt him the way she always threatened.

"What was that all about?" Miss Patty asked.

If Marcus could have smiled, he would have. Patty might remind him of his late boss, but there were differences. Mainly in that Patty sounded sympathetic right now instead of acerbic. G.o.d help him, but he missed the old bird.

Shoving down his emotions, Marcus set the clean skillet back on the stovetop and started cracking new eggs into a bowl. "It was time. She was about to make a choice she would have regretted for a long time."

"But it was her choice to make, don't you think?"

Marcus shrugged. "And it was my choice to end things between us and fire her. So now she can make her choice with better information."

"But not with all the information, hmm?"

His shoulders tensed so hard, they hurt. Slanting Patty a glance, he found her regarding him with a benevolent sort of exasperation that was so familiar, it gave him an instant of dej vu. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, sugar." Miss Patty wandered closer to lay one frail hand on Marcus's forearm where he'd rolled up his sleeves before starting to cook. He knew she could feel the tension thrumming through his frame, but he couldn't make himself relax. The exasperated gaze turned pitying. "I knew it. You didn't tell her you donated the money for that position that just happened to open up at Windy Corner. Enough for them to pay for her certification, too?"

It was obviously no use denying it. Marcus nodded silently, then pinned the old lady with his more ferocious glare. "She doesn't need to know. Ever."

Patty sighed. "Oh, I won't tell her. But I hope you'll pardon an old lady for having an opinion, which is ... you c.o.c.ked this one up but good, now didn't you?"

Chapter 24.

On the day of Tessa's first wedding, she'd been scared and alone, desperately grasping at the first kind hand extended to her. She hadn't had any friends to help her get ready. Her father would not be walking her down the aisle. She'd missed her mother.

Some things hadn't changed, she reflected as she gazed at her reflection in the old-fas.h.i.+oned beveled mirror in Miss Patty's guest room. Her father might be currently under treatment at a psychiatric facility instead of on his plot of land at the commune, but he still wouldn't be walking her down the aisle.

And Tessa still missed her mother, with a painful intensity of grief that had been stirred up by her recent experiences.

But this time around, she did have friends; she wasn't alone. In fact, this was the first moment she'd had to herself all morning. Between Quinn and Patty flitting around, helping her into her dress and insisting on doing her makeup, Tessa had never felt so pampered.

And this time around, she wasn't afraid, either. Johnny wasn't marrying her out of kindness this time. Today was all about love.

A tap at the door brought her out of her reflections. Shaking her head, she stood up from the vanity bench to let her friends back in.

"What now?" she called as she made her way to the door. "We still have an hour before we need to leave!"

"Tessa."

It was Johnny's deep voice, low and happy. Delight thrilled through her, and she leaned against the doorjamb longing for the time a few short hours from now when there would be nothing separating them any longer. "What are you doing out there? Don't you know it's bad luck?"

"Only if we see each other," Johnny said reasonably. "I'm staying out here, don't worry. We're taking no chances this time around. But..."

He paused, and Tessa frowned slightly to hear the hesitance and tension suddenly creep into his tone.

"What's wrong?" Was he having second thoughts?

"Nothing," Johnny a.s.sured her, easing the tight constriction around her lungs. "But I have a present for you. I wasn't sure it would get here in time, but it's here. And I wish I could be there with you when you ... open it."

Giddy with relief, Tessa laughed. "Johnny! You're spoiling me. I don't need any more presents!"

"You need this one." His voice was very certain, rough with an emotion Tessa couldn't identify. "Here, I'm going to leave it here in the hall and go downstairs. Count to ten and open the door, I promise I'll be gone."

Tessa fought the urge to pout. "The best present would be getting to see your face," she said. "Maybe I'm not superst.i.tious after all."

That made Johnny laugh. "Oh, but you are, though. I know you, and the minute you see me before the wedding, you'll start worrying about our seven years of bad luck."

"That's for broken mirrors," Tessa corrected him instantly, then scrunched up her nose. "I guess the fact that I know that sort of proves your point, huh?"

"I know you," Johnny said again, this time so tenderly, it made the tips of her ears burn and her eyes sting with tears. "And I'll see you very soon, honey."