Praise for Kate Hoffmann’s MIGHTY QUINNS

“This truly delightful tale packs in the heat and a lot of heart at the same time.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Dermot

“This is a fast read that is hard to tear the eyes from.

Once I picked it up I couldn’t put it down.”

—Fresh Fiction on The Mighty Quinns: Dermot

“A story that not only pulled me in,

but left me weak in the knees.”

—Seriously Reviewed on The Mighty Quinns: Riley

“Sexy, heartwarming and romantic, this is a story to settle down with and enjoy—and then reread.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Teague

“Sexy Irish folklore and intrigue weave throughout this steamy tale.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Kellan

“The only drawback to this story is that it’s far too short!”

—Fresh Fiction on The Mighty Quinns: Kellan

“Strong, imperfect but lovable characters,

an interesting setting and great sensuality.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Brody

About the Author

KATE HOFFMANN has written more than seventy books for Mills & boon, most of them for the Blaze® line. She spent time as a music teacher, a retail assistant buyer and an advertising exec before she settled into a career as a full-time writer. She continues to pursue her interests in music, theater and musical theater, working with local schools in various productions. She lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her cat, chloe.

The Mighty
Quinns: Jack
Kate Hoffmann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Thanks Paul S.!

This book is for you (and your mom)!

Prologue

AILEEN QUINN kNELT over the bed of pansies, digging into the soil with her trowel until she’d broken up the clumps around the plants. The wind was chilly and the weather rolling in from the Atlantic was sure to bring rain. But it was spring in Ireland and she was alive to enjoy another summer. At age ninety-six, one couldn’t ask for much more.

She braced her hands on the tall handles of her gardening bench and slowly got to her feet. Every day was a blessing, she mused. And with each day came the hope that she would find more members of the family that she’d lost all those years ago.

As one of Ireland’s most famous novelists, she lived a charmed life. But it hadn’t started that way. She’d been raised in an orphanage, her father killed in the Irish uprising and her mother dead of consumption when Aileen was two. She had spent her life alone, without a single blood relative to call family.

But then, in the midst of doing research for her biography, she learned of her four older brothers—Diarmuid, Conal, Lochlan and Tomas, who had been sent from Ireland by her mother, hoping that her boys would make lives of their own in a more promising place.

Her investigator, Ian Stephens, had already tracked down one descendant, a lovely young man named Logan Quinn who ran a horse-breeding farm outside Brisbane, Australia. He’d also found Logan’s parents who had recently visited her in Ireland. She’d given David Quinn and his son, Logan, a sizeable gift from her estate, almost a million dollars each.

Aileen smiled to herself. She had so much money and nothing to do with it. Better that it went to help her family. They were the people who’d be her legacy, the children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren of her lost brothers.

“Miss Quinn?”

Aileen glanced over her shoulder to see Ian Stephens standing at the garden gate. “Hello,” she said with a smile. “Either you’re early or I’ve lost all track of time.”

“It’s half past eleven,” he said. “That was when we were supposed to meet, wasn’t it?”

She pulled off her gardening gloves and dropped them onto the padded bench. “Yes, it was. Come, let’s get out of this dampness and in front of a warm fire. I’m cold to the bone.”

Ian offered her his arm as they walked through the garden then onto the wide terrace and into the house. Sally, her housekeeper, appeared almost immediately and helped Aileen out of her jacket. “I’ve laid a fire in the parlor,” she said. “I’ll bring you tea.”

“Thank you, Sally. And bring a cup for yourself. Mr. Stephens has come with news, haven’t you, Mr. Stephens?”

He grinned. “I have. Lots of news. All good.”

Aileen nodded. “Then I think we’ll also need some of your blackberry scones, as well, Sally. And real butter, not that terrible paste you and Doctor Arnett insist I eat. I’m nearly ninety-seven years old. What harm will a few bites of butter do me now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sally muttered, sending Ian a secret smile. “But I’m sure Mr. Stephens doesn’t keep his trim figure by gobbling down butter every chance he gets.”

Ian forced a smile, then cleared his throat. “I’ll have butter,” he said.

He extended his arm and Aileen slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let’s go find a quiet place to talk, shall we?”

The stone country house was warm and cozy, filled with comfortable furnishings and items she’d collected over a lifetime. They walked to the parlor and Aileen sat down in the chair closest to the fire.

They chatted about the weather until Sally returned with the tea tray. She poured them both a cup and then found a spot for herself on a nearby sofa.

Aileen held out a plate of scones. “Have one. Sally bakes them for me every day. They are the only indulgence left to me, I’m afraid.”

As he munched on a scone, Ian opened his portfolio and withdrew a folder, holding it out to her as he wiped his other hand on a linen napkin.

She hesitated before taking it, knowing that the information inside would open yet another door to her past. There were times when the regrets outweighed the joy. “Tell me,” she said. “Who have you found?”

“Conal,” Ian said, setting his scone down. “And it wasn’t a simple task.”

She opened the folder to find a copy of a faded photograph. Though she wanted to recognize the face, the subject of the photograph was a stranger. “He’s a handsome lad,” she said. “I wonder if he resembles my father?”

Ian sat quietly as she studied the photograph. When she looked up at him, he continued. “Conal was hired out as an apprentice to a printer in Cork. Unlike many, this man valued education and Conal attended school until he was sixteen. In his early twenties, he left Cork and started writing for the Irish Independent in Dublin. And when the war broke out in Europe, he covered it. I’ve copied some of his articles.”

“He was a writer? My brother was a writer?”

“Yes, ma’am. And quite a good one from what I could see.”

“I used to read that paper,” Aileen said. “I might have seen his name.” She laughed softly. “If only we might have met. But then, would we have known each other?”

“After the war, he made his way to the U.S. where he settled in Chicago and founded an Irish weekly. He married at age 45 and had two children, a daughter, Mary Katherine, who became a nun, and a son, John, who married in 1975. John had three children, two daughters, Kristina and Katherine, and a son, Jack.”

Aileen picked up another photo, turning it over to find the name written on the back. “Jack Quinn.”

“He’s a sports writer,” Ian explained. “And his sisters are both high school teachers.”

“And their father?”

“He followed his own father into the newspaper business, but he died of a heart ailment a few years after his youngest daughter was born. From what I’ve uncovered, the family has struggled, but they are now living comfortably.”

“Have you contacted them yet?” Aileen asked.

“Not yet. I’m leaving for Chicago at the end of the week.”

Aileen closed the folder and hugged it to her chest. “I’d like to meet them. The whole family. You’ll arrange it, won’t you? Do all you can to convince them to come?”

“Kristina and Katherine are married and have young children.”

“Well, then, I’m looking forward to entertaining little ones. I’ve never had children in this house. It’s about time I did, don’t you think?”

“I’ll ring you as soon as I’ve contacted them,” Ian said.

He moved to get up but she waved him back into his chair. “You don’t have to rush off,” she said. “I enjoy your visits.”

“I enjoy them, too.”

She reached for a photo sitting on the small table next to her chair. “Have I shown you this? Logan sent it to me. He and Sunny got married last month. I was invited to the wedding, but I don’t travel much anymore.” She stared down at the couple in the photo, Logan dressed in a smart suit and Sunny in a simple flowing dress. They looked so happy, starting out their life together. She handed the picture to Ian.

“They are a lovely couple.”

“It’s the only regret I’ve ever had, you know. That I never married and had children.” She sighed softly, then put on a bright expression. “I sent them a wedding present. Two handmade Irish riding saddles. They were very pleased. I just got a letter from them last week.”

Aileen sat back in her chair and watched as Ian devoured another scone. She was beginning to like this young man. He took his work very seriously, which was a good thing for her. But she worried that he might not have enough time for a personal life. A young man like him ought to be thinking about marriage and a family.

Family was the most important thing in life, she mused. Everyone should have a family to love and treasure. And before the year was over, she hoped to be able to add to the three family members she’d already found, for then, she would be truly rich.

1

“THIS IS CRAZY,” Jack Quinn muttered. “I should never have taught you how to use Facebook.” He glanced over at his mother, standing quietly next to him in the baggage claim area at the San Francisco airport.

For a woman who had worked so tirelessly her whole life, Elyse Quinn looked remarkably young. But then, he’d noticed a change in her entire demeanor these past few months. He caught her smiling for no reason and the weight of the world seemed to have lifted from her shoulders. She looked…optimistic.

Jack’s mother had retired from her teaching job and was now happily looking forward to the next phase of her life. And part of that shift had included more travel. Strangely, her first post-retirement trip wasn’t to Europe or Asia, it was to visit an old childhood friend on the West Coast.

Elyse Quinn and Ben McMahon had spent summers as neighbors, their families living in lake cabins next door to each other. But when financial problems caused Elise’s family to sell the cabin when she was fourteen, they lost touch with the McMahons. Until Elyse discovered Ben on Facebook and they reconnected.

“Where are we supposed to meet him?” Jack asked, his gaze returning to the baggage carousel.

“Ben said he’d be here to pick us up. I expect if he doesn’t find us here, he’ll be waiting outside.” Elyse glanced over at him. “You really didn’t have to come along with me, Jack. I’m perfectly able to travel on my own. I went to Norway last year by myself, after all.”

“That was a tour. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you fly halfway across this country to meet some man you barely remember. You don’t know anything about him.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ve been writing to each other for six months. And phoning. And using Facebook. And Skype. And I know you’ve done your research, too. If there’d been anything bad about him, you wouldn’t have allowed me to buy a plane ticket. Ben McMahon is a nice person and once you meet him, you’ll see that.”

Jack groaned inwardly. “You know what I think? I think you have romantic feelings for him. You just won’t admit it.”

Elyse smiled. “Don’t be silly. We’re old friends and that’s all. It’s a little late for me to be thinking about romance. And it is possible for a man and a woman to be friends.” She sighed softly. “Your father was the one great love of my life. I’m not looking for love.”

Jack’s thoughts flashed back to the night his father died, the night he’d been called to John Quinn’s bedside at the hospital.

The virus had taken away so much of his strength, destroying his heart. Jack had known that the end was near. He’d been nine years old and his father told him that he was now the man of the house. It was his job to protect his mother and two younger sisters.

And so he had, taking on the task with such ferocity that his concern sometimes bordered on obsession. His two younger sisters, now married, had every boyfriend strictly vetted until they brought home two men that Jack had finally found worthy to join the family.

Once Katie and Kris were out of the house, Jack had been left with just his mother to watch over. Luckily, his work as a sports writer had kept him in the Chicago area and her career as a kindergarten teacher had kept her busy. But now that she’d retired, everything had changed.

“There it is,” Elyse said, pointing to her bag. “Now where is yours?”

Jack continued to watch the carousel. “Did you call to confirm the hotel rooms?” he asked. “I still think we should have rented a car.”

“Ben is more familiar with the city than we are. And parking is so expensive, even at the hotel. I’m sure he knows best.”

Ben, Ben, Ben. That’s all his mother had been talking about for the past six months.

“What did you do with Roger for the weekend?” Elyse asked.

“He’s with Melanie,” Jack murmured. He and Melanie had broken up last year after a six-year relationship that his family had assumed would result in marriage. They’d shared a condo, an active social life and a mutt named Roger.

“I sure wish you two could work out your problems,” Elyse said.

“Mom, don’t start. I told you, that’s not going to happen. We’re just friends.”

Her brow arched. “Just friends. I thought men and women couldn’t be just friends.”

“Very funny,” he muttered. “We’re happier this way. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s dating someone else.”

Elyse’s calm expression shifted to one of surprise. “Oh, Jack, I’m sorry. I always thought you two would end up together. You seem so perfect for each other. I love Melanie. Like a daughter.”

“I know, Mom. But that’s not going to happen.” Jack saw his bag and quickly grabbed it. “All right. Let’s go see if we can find our ride.”

“I want you to be nice,” Elyse warned. “This man is my friend and I don’t want you criticizing him like you do some of those ball players in your column.”

Jack had done a little research on Ben McMahon. And to his dismay, Ben seemed like a stand-up guy. He’d been married for over thirty years when his wife had passed away three years ago. He’d made his money in the computer industry and he had three daughters.

They headed for the doors, but Elyse reached out and touched his arm. “Wait,” she said.

“What’s wrong? Are you nervous?” Jack asked.

“A little. But I’m excited, too.” She glanced over at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “It seems like just yesterday we were swimming together and roasting hot dogs over a campfire. It’s like my life just rushed by without me noticing.”

Jack felt a lump of emotion fill his throat. He knew how hard it had been for her. After his father had died so many years ago, she’d put every ounce of her energy into providing for the family. There had been no dates, no men, no thought of remarriage. Just a single-minded desire to give her three children everything she possibly could.

But even though she’d denied any notion of romance, Jack knew that the line between friendship and love was very hard to navigate. “You’ll be fine,” he said, reaching out to give her a hug. “Just be yourself.”

“I feel like a silly teenager,” she said. “How am I supposed to be myself?”

They headed toward the sliding door that led outside. As they walked through, a slender woman with blond hair tumbled around her face ran into him, her body slamming against his chest.

She wore a black leather jacket and skinny jeans that clung to her long legs. Her hair was styled as if she’d just run her fingers through the waves after she’d crawled out of bed and her sunglasses were perched on the top of her head.

Jack grabbed her arms as she stumbled back and his gaze meet emerald green eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Sorry,” she murmured, stepping to the right just as he stepped to the left. They went back and forth a few times before he grabbed her again.

Then, they both froze and in an instant, their eyes locked. Jack felt a strange current running through his body, the warmth of her flesh seeping through the soft leather jacket. His breathing grew shallow and his mind suddenly lost its ability to form words. She was, in a single word, stunning.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t come up with anything worth saying. Introducing himself seemed a bit nervy. And asking if they might find a quiet spot to be alone was totally out of the question. What should a guy do in a situation like this?

Kiss her. Every instinct in his body urged him forward, but yet Jack knew that he couldn’t do that. She was a stranger and he fancied himself a gentleman.

“I—I really need to get inside,” she said. “I’m late.”

“Oh, right,” Jack mumbled. “Sorry. I—I’ll just get out of your—”

The moment he moved, she was gone, disappearing through the sliding-glass doors. He stepped back into the terminal to look for her, but she was already lost in the crowd. Somehow, at that moment, he realized he’d just let opportunity pass him by. What was this powerful attraction, to a complete stranger? And why now, of all days?

He was thirty-one years old and happily single, although not necessarily by choice. He’d always thought that he’d know when the right woman came along. But even after six years with Melanie, the spark just wasn’t there.

And here he was, nearly bursting into flames over a stranger. He cursed beneath his breath and brushed the image of the beautiful blonde out of his head, then walked back outside.

He found his mother standing at the curb, staring at a black Mercedes sedan. The hazard lights were on, but there was no one behind the wheel. Airport security had just pulled up and was examining the car.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ben said he’d pick me up in a black Mercedes sedan,” his mother said. She glanced down the long walkway. “I wonder where he went?”

Jack rolled his suitcase over to his mother. “Watch the luggage. Don’t talk to strangers. I’ll check to see if he’s inside.”

In truth, Jack was more interested in finding the blonde, but he knew she was probably long gone. He hurried back through the doors, searching the crowd for a guy who looked like the man he’d seen on Ben McMahon’s Facebook page. But as he wove through the waiting passengers, he caught sight of a familiar face.

There she was. The goddess, standing in a spot near some uniformed chauffeurs, holding a sign made out of crumpled paper. As he approached, he searched his brain for something to say. Maybe he should just be honest.

“I’d really like to get to know you? Would you be interested in meeting me for a drink?” he murmured to himself. That seemed a little forward. “Hey, it’s you again. Sorry for getting in your way. Maybe I can buy you lunch.”

He glanced down at her sign. Maybe he should just pretend he was the person she was looking for. Jack stopped short when he saw “QUINN” scrawled across the paper in ballpoint pen.

“I’m Quinn,” he murmured. He hurried up to her, then cleared his throat. “Hey, there. I’m Quinn.”

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Sure you are.”

“No, I am,” he said.

“I’m here for an older woman named Elyse.”

“That’s me,” Jack said. “I mean, that’s my mom. I’m her son. She’s waiting outside. Elyse Quinn.”

She gave him a suspicious look, as if weighing the truth of his words against their previous encounter. “If this is just some come on, I really don’t have the—”

He held out his hand. “Hey, I’m not messing with you. I’m Jack Quinn, Elyse’s son.”

She took his hand, folding her fingers against his. The moment caused a tiny shock to rock his body. She had the most beautiful fingers and his mind automatically thought of what those hands might do to his body. He’d never realized that chauffeurs could be so sexy.

“I’m Mia McMahon. I’m Ben’s daughter.”

All his fantasies screeched to a halt and Jack tried to cover his stunned expression. “His daughter?” His mom had told him that Ben had three daughters, but he’d just assumed they’d be married, and living elsewhere. He searched her hand for a ring and found her fingers bare. For some reason, that made him happy.

She smiled warmly. “I’m sorry. My dad sprained his ankle playing tennis this morning. He’s hobbling around on crutches. He would have been here, but he can’t drive. So he asked me to look for your mother.”

“Well, she’s waiting outside. Let’s go,” Jack said, nodding at her.

She gave him a coy smile. “All right.” They wove their way back through the crowd and strolled out the door. But as they made their way back to the Mercedes, Mia took off at a run. The security officer was bent over the hood of the Mercedes, slipping a ticket beneath the wiper.

“No!” she cried, grabbing it and holding it out to him. “I’m here. I’m right here. We’re leaving.”

He held up his hands and shook his head. “Sorry. You can’t leave your car unattended. There’s no parking allowed here at all. You can circle and load, but no stopping to wait.”

“But I had to—”

“Nothing you say is going to make me rip up that ticket. You can mail the fine in to the address on the back.”

Mia shook her head as he walked away. “Great,” she shouted. She glanced down at the ticket. “A hundred and ninety-seven dollars? For five minutes?”

Jack walked up and took the ticket from her fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. It was our fault.”

“No!” she cried, grabbing the ticket back. “Don’t be silly. It was my fault.”

“It was my mother you were picking up,” he countered.

Their gazes met again and for a long moment, Jack lost track of where he was and what he was doing. God, she was pretty. He gently took the ticket from her fingers, then cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get in the car,” he said.

“Right,” she said.

He dragged their luggage to the rear of the vehicle as Mia popped the trunk. And when he’d finished loading it, he circled back to find that his mother and Ben’s daughter had made their introductions and Elyse had taken a spot in the backseat. Jack opened the front door and slid into the luxurious interior, taking a spot next to Mia.

She glanced over her shoulder and pulled away from the curb. “Seat belt,” she whispered to him.

“Where is Ben?” his mother asked.

“He sprained his ankle playing tennis this morning.” Both Jack and Mia answered at the same time and he chuckled softly. He saw a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth and wondered what was going on inside her head.

Was she as attracted as he was? Jack hoped that her duties for the weekend didn’t end with a ride to their hotel. He was going to be alone, for the most part. It might be nice to spend some time with a beautiful woman like Mia McMahon.

MIA’S WEEK OFF HAD NOT started out the way she thought it would. She’d planned to spend the afternoon painting the spare bedroom in her small condo in the Mission District and later, joining a group of friends for dinner.

But a frantic call from her older sister had sent her racing out to the family home in Marin County to help her father get to the doctor after a fall on the tennis court. After that, she’d been tasked with the job of picking up her father’s “houseguest” from the airport.

“We’re staying at the Stafford Hotel on Union Square,” Jack explained. “It would probably be best if we checked in first and—”

Mia frowned. “The Stafford? Oh, no. Actually, you’re staying with us. My father said I was to drive you back to the house.”

“But we have a reservation,” Elyse said. “We couldn’t possibly impose.”

“Oh, it’s no imposition. We have a guest cottage. You and your—You and Jack will be very comfortable there. And you’ll have your privacy, as well. And with my father’s injury, he won’t be driving for a few days. It really would be more convenient.”

“Well, then,” Jack said, grinning. “I guess that’s settled.”

“No, it isn’t,” Elyse said.

Mia looked at Jack, then glanced at his mother in the rearview mirror. “Really, the drive back and forth is almost a half hour. Hotels in the city are ridiculously expensive. You’re our guests. And it’s absolutely no imposition,” she repeated.

“Maybe Mia is right, Mom,” Jack said. “We wouldn’t want to be any trouble. And since you decided we shouldn’t rent a car, it would save on cab fare. Besides, we are only staying two days.”

A long, uncomfortable silence descended over the interior of the Mercedes and Mia glanced again between Jack and Elyse’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for the offer,” Jack finally said. “We’d be happy to stay in your guest house.”

“Great,” Mia said. “Then it’s decided.”

Now there really was a reason to stick around home for the weekend. She wouldn’t even need an excuse. It would be the only hospitable thing to do. Mia pointed out the windshield. “We’re going to be crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Is this your first trip to San Francisco?”

Though she’d meant the question for Elyse, Jack seemed anxious to begin a conversation. And Mia wasn’t about to object. She couldn’t deny that having the man around for a few days might be nice. And she couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about their parents’ new “relationship.”

Mia had learned about her father’s Facebook “affair” a few weeks ago, from her oldest sister, but she hadn’t had much time to think about it. In truth, she’d didn’t want to think about it.

Her mother had died three years ago after a long battle with cancer. As the youngest of three daughters and the only one living near home, she’d been there to help out, to be the caretaker and to support her father during those last days.

And after the funeral, she’d stayed with him for nearly a year, helping him cope with living alone. She made her living as a graphic designer and was able to do most of her work from home, but while she was away, she’d given up on having a life of her own. She’d ignored her friends and pushed her own grief aside to make her father’s life easier.

And now, without a second thought, Ben McMahon was ready to move on to someone new. Only she wasn’t ready for that to happen. Nor were her two older sisters. They hadn’t had enough time. A stab of guilt shot through her. Images of a grasping social-climber had filled her head ever since she’d learned of Elyse’s existence. But in all honesty, her dad’s “friend” seemed really nice. The kind of woman her mother would have liked.

She fought back a surge of tears. There were moments when she could remember her mother with such pure joy. And then, other times, the memories were so painful, they took her breath away. Mia drew a deep breath and focused her thoughts on something else. Painting. Her new project at work. Jack Quinn.

Jack Quinn? She risked a quick glance across the console, catching sight of his profile in the afternoon sun. He was impossibly attractive, the kind of handsome that took a girl’s breath away. She couldn’t deny her curiosity. After all, a guy who watched after his mother so carefully couldn’t be all bad.

As she stared at the road in front of her, she found herself cataloging his features. Dark hair that was just long enough to wave slightly and thick enough that it would feel good between her fingers. Blue eyes that seemed to see right into her soul. A mouth that curled slightly at the corners, even when he wasn’t smiling.

A tremor shook her body and she squeezed tighter on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Maybe this was the reason he’d come here. To distract her from protecting her father. Ben McMahon was a tasty target for any single woman, young or old. He’d made millions in the tech market and now, had nowhere to spend it.

“Here we are,” she said, pulling into the driveway. She reached out the window and punched in the security code then waited until the gates slid open in front of them.

“Wow,” Jack murmured as they approached the sprawling house at the end of the tree-lined driveway. “No wonder you’ve got gates. Better to keep the riffraff out.”

By the time Mia pulled up in front of the house, her father was standing at the front door, his tall frame balanced on a pair of crutches. The moment the car stopped, Elyse hurriedly stepped out and slowly walked toward him, her hands covering her mouth. A smile broke across Ben’s face and Mia felt her breath hitch in her throat. He hadn’t smiled like that in years.

Mia’s eyes filled with tears and she shoved the door open and got out, brushing the dampness from her cheeks before anyone saw. Jack quickly followed, slamming the Mercedes door behind him as he watched the scene unfold. She joined him, leaning back against the car, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Ben McMahon, you haven’t changed a bit,” Elyse cried, her musical laugh filling the fragrant air.

“Elyse Lovett, you’ve only gotten more beautiful.”

Mia watched as Elyse hugged her father and a few seconds later, Ben led her into the house, leaving Mia to deal with Jack on her own. “Why don’t we get the bags and I’ll get you settled in the guest house,” she murmured.

They pulled the luggage out of the trunk of the Mercedes and walked around to the rear of the spacious home. Though the house didn’t qualify as an estate, it was spacious and comfortable and one of the nicest properties in Marin County. Her father’s work had made it possible for the family to live without financial worries. But according to her father, Elyse and her three children hadn’t been as lucky.

The guest cottage was located behind the house, set near the pool and the tennis court. As they walked down the path, she heard Jack chuckle softly.

“What?”

“This is your guest house?”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. It’s just that it’s bigger than the house I grew up in.”

Mia opened the front door and stepped aside to let him pass. She watched as he took in the beautiful interior. Her mother had redecorated both houses about five years ago and Mia had helped her with her choices. The guest cottage had been her favorite and she and her mother had been very proud of how it turned out. Mia had lived in the cottage the year after her mother had died, the space reminding her of the time they’d spent choosing colors and fabrics.

“The bedrooms are back here,” she said.

But he didn’t follow her. Instead, he stood in the middle of the living room. “Let me ask you a question. How do you feel about this whole thing? This visit.”

Mia slowly turned, setting the bag down beside her. “You mean our parents?”

“Don’t you find it a little…odd?”

She sighed deeply and smiled. “Yes?” Finally, someone who understood how she felt. “It’s not that I don’t want my father to be happy. After everything that’s happened, he deserves to find some happiness. But bringing a complete stranger into our family this late in the game just seems so…unnecessary. I know he imagines himself in love with—”

Jack gasped. “In love? Your father is in love with my—”

“Well, he hasn’t really said it,” she interrupted. “But he’s been so excited about this visit.” Mia paused. “What about your mother?”

“She says they’re just friends. My father was her one and only.”

“Well, then, maybe that’s the case. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. After all, at their age, romance seems a little too much to hope for.”

“Right. Those feelings go away once you turn…what? Fifty?”

“Sixty,” she said.

“And there’s the matter of the distance,” Jack said. “My mother lives in Chicago. Your father lives here. They could never carry on a relationship over that distance.”

“Absolutely right.”

Jack frowned. “Who knows, they might not even enjoy being together this weekend.”

“Yeah, maybe they won’t even like each other.” She met his gaze and saw the doubt there. Mia walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water. “Would you like something to drink? Or maybe something to eat?”

“Do you have a beer?”

She pulled one out and handed it to him, then opened a bottle of water for herself and took a long drink. She had to be very clever about this. After all, her father was in a very vulnerable state and Elyse was a beautiful woman. If she had no feelings for him, then everything was fine. But what if she developed feelings for Mia’s father, only to crush his heart later.

Mia pushed away from the counter. “Why don’t we get out of here and get some dinner? I’m sure our parents don’t need us hanging around, hovering.”

She watched as he took a long sip of his beer. Even the way he drank beer was sexy, so casual, so masculine. Her breath caught in her throat and for a long moment, she didn’t breathe. The thoughts running through her mind were just a little bit preposterous. And yet, she couldn’t deny that Jack Quinn’s presence here was like a gift.

It had been too long since she’d had a man in her bed. And now, she’d been given the perfect opportunity—he was handsome, sexy, available and he’d go home at the end of the weekend. Why not take advantage while she could?

She took another swallow of the water, but it went down wrong. Mia coughed, putting her hand on her chest. Her eyes began to water and Jack crossed the room and gently patted her back.

“Are you all right?”

His warm hand smoothed over her back and she nodded. But she wasn’t okay. Her thoughts focused on his touch. She wanted him to kiss her, but she wasn’t sure exactly how to make it seem as if it was his idea. “I—I’m fine,” she said, taking another sip of water. “I think we should go.”

“Lead on,” Jack said.

Mia walked toward the door, but she was sorely tempted to turn around and walk into the bedroom, just to see what he’d do. If she’d thought he’d follow her, Mia might have tried it.

“YOU HAVE TO TRY the fish tacos,” Mia said, jumping out of the Mini Cooper and slamming the door behind her. Jack crawled out of the car and followed her up to the window of the roadside taco stand.

He stared up at the menu, working his way through the extensive list of choices. After finding their parents engrossed in a study of an old picture album, Jack and Mia had hopped into her car and driven toward the coast. They’d pulled off the highway about fifteen minutes later at a small wooden shack with picnic tables gathered around it.

“I’ve never had a fish taco,” Jack said.

“Don’t they have them in Chicago?”

“We’re kind of hot dog and pizza people there,” Jack explained. “Although it’s a great city for food, so I’m sure there are plenty of places to go for fish tacos. I’ve just never had one.”

“Well, Manny’s is the best,” she said. “It’s been around forever. My girlfriends and I used to come here when we were in high school, looking to meet boys. Lots of surfers used to hang out here. Blond, tan, smelling like the ocean.”

She ordered a basket of four fish tacos and a couple of beers. When the server handed her a tray, she turned and headed toward one of the picnic tables.

The songs had always touted the superiority of California girls, but Jack had never really seen the attraction. But here, beneath the late-afternoon sun, with a warm breeze blowing off the ocean, he couldn’t recall ever meeting a woman more captivating than Mia McMahon.

She grabbed a taco from the basket and bit into it. Jack followed suit and when the mix of fish and fresh tomato and avocado and cheese all melded in his mouth, he groaned softly.

“Good, right?”

“Wow. Really not what I expected,” he said.

“I know.” She grinned. “So tell me why you decided to come to California with your mother. Don’t you have a job? Or are you a professional mama’s boy?”

Jack chuckled. “I wasn’t completely convinced that your father wasn’t some kind of letch just looking for a little action from a sweet and trusting woman, so I decided to come along and check him out personally. And yes, I do have a job. I’m a sports writer. What do you do? Let me guess. You’re either a professional houseguest insulter or a roadside restaurant critic?”

“I’m a graphic designer. I have my own studio. We do a lot of work for restaurants and hotels in the Bay area. Menus, signs, point of sale displays. I designed the sign right over there for Manny.”

Jack glanced over his shoulder. “The dancing tacos?”

“They’re not dancing, they’re hitchhiking,” she said. “This is a roadside taco stand. They want a ride.” Mia frowned. “I guess it does look like they’re dancing.”

God, she was adorable, Jack mused. Everything she said was endlessly fascinating, even when it didn’t make sense. He took another bite. “I’ve never seen tacos with legs and arms…and faces, but they look good. You’re good.”

That brought a laugh. “And you’re not a very good liar,” she countered. “Don’t you think this whole thing is kind of strange?”

“Hitchhiking tacos?”

“No, my dad and your mom. It’s kind of unexpected.”

He drew a deep breath and nodded. “My dad died twenty-two years ago. I was nine. And since then, Mom’s never shown the slightest bit of interest in dating. But she and your dad are old friends. Their families used to spend summers together. It’s just a chance to revisit the past.”

“My father told me, about a year ago, that he could never see himself with another woman. That my mom was his one true love. I believed him.”

“They’re looking for companionship,” Jack said. “Isn’t that what people their age want? I can’t imagine they’re in it for the sex.”

She clapped her hands over her ears. “Stop. I don’t want to listen to that.”

Jack reached out and pulled her hands away. “At one time they were our age,” he said. “I’m sure there were times when they felt that kind of gut-deep attraction for someone. You know, when you feel like you can’t breathe and your head gets all fuzzy?” He was very familiar with that feeling, since it had happened to him the moment he’d first seen Mia.

She forced a smile. “Yeah, I know.” Mia reached for her beer and took a long sip. “So do you really think that all stops at fifty?”

He shook his head. “No. But then, I’m a guy. I can’t believe it’s ever going to stop. I’d like to think I’ll be interested in sex until I’m at least eighty or ninety years old. What about you?”

“I can’t imagine my father having thoughts like that,” Mia murmured.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. My mother is very comfortable in Chicago and your father is comfortable here. When you get to be that age, you just don’t turn your life upside down and move away from the only home you’ve known for the past thirty years.”

She finished her taco and nodded. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. But we should be prepared to discourage a romance.” Mia sighed softly. “It would just be so awkward. The holidays would be the worst. Having a stranger there, in place of my mother. It wouldn’t feel right.”

“Who says she’d want to spend the holidays here? She’s always spent Christmas in Chicago with our family.”

“See, that’s what this leads to. It would be a nightmare. I’m glad we agree that there should be no romance. If it looks like it’s getting too hot and heavy, we’re going to have to step in.”

“Now I’m starting to feel like the parent,” Jack said.

“It’s what happens. My father only dated one woman in his entire life. He’s not ready for romance.”

They finished their tacos and beers, then carried their tray back to the window. Jack walked to the driver’s side of the car and reached for the door, but Mia suddenly turned around to face him. “But what if there is an attraction?” she murmured, her gaze fixed on his. “And what if they act on it?”

He stared down at her. They were standing so close he could smell the scent of her perfume, could feel the heat from her body. Jack clenched his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. The breeze toyed with a strand of her hair and he imagined how it might feel between his fingers.

“I suppose we’ll deal with that when it happens,” he said softly.

Jack leaned in slightly, testing, searching for an equal and opposite reaction. Her lips parted slightly and the need to taste her was almost overwhelming. His gaze drifted down to her mouth. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, a tiny voice told him to stop.

Indulging in his own attraction would be a huge risk. Though Mia was beautiful, she could also distract him from his purpose, which was getting his mother back to Chicago, safely and with her heart intact. And yet, even though his instincts told him to back off, Jack couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to just let go.

He sucked in a sharp breath, then reached around her and opened the car door. “We should probably get going,” he murmured.

“Right,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

He smiled to himself as he circled the car. This was the last place on earth he would have ever expected to find a woman who tied him up in knots. Had he known he’d meet someone like Mia, he might have decided to stay at home. Though it would be difficult, he was going to have to keep their relationship strictly platonic.

Unless, of course, she convinced him otherwise.

2

“WHAT IS SHE LIKE? Is she pretty? Is she putting on the full court press or is she playing it coy?”

Mia sighed, leaning back against the edge of the kitchen counter as she spoke on her cell phone with her sister Danielle. “She seems really nice. And she is pretty in a very natural way. She has beautiful skin.”

“Probably had plastic surgery,” Dani said.

“I don’t think so. I think she’s just naturally beautiful. Like Mom.” Mia swallowed hard. “To be honest, I think Mom probably would have liked her.” She peeked out the back door to watch her father and Jack’s mother. They were enjoying cocktails on the rear terrace, caught up in another private conversation between the two of them.

Dani gasped. “What are you saying? Are you saying you like her?”

“No! I barely know her,” Mia protested. “I’m just saying that she isn’t some evil stepmonster, out to steal all our father’s money and make our holidays a living hell. I don’t even think she’s interested in romance.”

“Every single woman is interested in romance. Especially with a rich and somewhat sexy guy.”

“Seriously, I’m watching them right now,” Mia said. “All they do is talk.”

“What else have you found out?”

“Not much. I’ve been a little preoccupied with other matters.”

“What could be more important than this?” Dani cried.

Mia pulled the phone away from her ear and waited for her sister to calm down. Finally, after a few minutes, it seemed safe to proceed. “She brought her son with her. And he’s…he’s…” Maybe it would be best to just say it out loud. “He’s incredibly hot.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Mia said. “I—I have to go now.”

“He’s hot? Who’s hot? Mia, what is going on?”

“I’ve got to run,” Mia said. “Call you later.” She quickly turned off the phone, then silenced the ringer, as well. No doubt Dani would call Steph, and then Steph would be on the line in a few minutes demanding answers of her own.

She walked through the kitchen and out into the late-afternoon sun shining on the wide terrace. Only her father and Elyse weren’t sitting at the table anymore. “Daddy?”

She walked back inside and called out again. But the house was silent.

They couldn’t have gone far. Her father was still hobbling around on crutches. She decided to pay a visit to the guesthouse and grabbed a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator to offer as an excuse.

She found Jack sitting on the small patio at the front of the house, his computer open on the teak table in front of him. When he heard her footsteps on the gravel path, he turned and smiled. “Hey, there.”

“Hi,” Mia said. “I brought you and your mom some iced tea.”

“She’s not here. I thought she was still with your dad.”

Mia set the pitcher down on the table. “No. They’re not in the house.”

Jack slowly stood. “Where do you think they’ve gone?”

“Well, they can’t be far. My dad can’t drive.”

“My mother can,” he countered.

“I wonder if the car is still here.”

They both hurried back down the path and then circled the house to the wide driveway. The black Mercedes was nowhere in sight.

“Great,” he muttered. “I thought you were going to keep an eye on them.”

“They’re not children,” Mia snapped. “What was I supposed to do, pull up a chair and watch them every second?”

“No, but you certainly should have known if they decided to go somewhere. Doesn’t your father let you know when he leaves the house?”

“No. Does your mother tell you her every move?” Mia replied.

“Yes, she usually does. It’s just something we do in our family. We take care of each other.” Jack turned to face her. “Where do you think they went?”

“Dinner? We didn’t have much in the fridge and I’m sure they were starting to get hungry. They probably went to Serafina’s, a restaurant in town. It’s one of my dad’s favorite places.”

“Let’s go, then,” Jack said, starting toward her car.

“You want to go get them?”

“No, I want to see what they’re doing. How are we supposed to keep this under control when we don’t know what’s going on?”

Mia shook her head. “I’m not spying on them.”

“Who says we have to spy? You and I just decided to go out and get a drink and, funny enough, we just happened to end up at your dad’s favorite restaurant.”

Mia stared at him for a long moment. “Wow. Do you let your mother go grocery shopping on her own or do you follow her around with the cart telling her what cereal to buy?”

Jack shook his head and held out his hand. “If you don’t want to go, give me your keys.”

Mia couldn’t help but think he was going too far. What could possibly happen between Ben and Elyse when they were out in public? “You know, my dad isn’t such a bad guy. In fact, he’s really kind of a catch.”

“I’m sure he is,” Jack said. His expression softened. “I know he is. It’s just that my mom hasn’t dated at all in more than forty years. If your dad makes some kind of move, she won’t know what to do.”

“I think you underestimate your mom,” Mia said.

Mia got behind the wheel, Jack jumped in the passenger seat and they sped off towards town. When they reached the restaurant, they noticed the black Mercedes parked out front. Mia gave the keys to the valet and she and Jack walked inside and found a spot at the end of the bar. Most of the dining room was visible through a wide arched opening in the wall and after a quick search, Mia located her father and Elyse at a booth within easy sightlines.

Jack ordered them both a glass of wine and they settled onto the comfortable stools. “He’s holding her hand,” Mia said, craning her neck.

Jack glanced over and cursed beneath his breath. “Already? Your father moves fast.”

“Holding hands is fast? Just because a woman holds a guy’s hand, it doesn’t mean they want to sleep together.”

“There’s a lot you can communicate through holding hands,” Jack insisted.

“Oh, please,” Mia said. “Teenagers hold hands. It’s…kind of sweet. They’re just friends.”

Jack grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers, gently pinning her arm onto the bar. He slowly slid his fingers back and forth in a lazy rhythm that was startlingly sexual in nature.

Mia swallowed hard and tried to maintain her composure. The feel of his palm pressed against hers, trapping her hand on the cool wood of the bar. Mia’s breath caught when he turned her hand over and ran his index finger along a line from her wrist to her forearm.

“Holding hands can lead to all sorts of things,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the spot where he touched. A tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth and Mia realized that he was enjoying this—almost as much as she was.

She swallowed a groan when he flipped her hand over and began to draw lazy circles on her palm. If this was what he did to a woman just holding her hand, what might he do to her in bed? Though Mia wasn’t unfamiliar with the seductive powers of the opposite sex, she certainly had never enjoyed the pleasures of a man who really knew what he was doing in the bedroom. She thought those men only existed in movies and erotic novels.

“I—I think you’ve proved your point.” Her voice cracked slightly and she pulled her hand away from him to grab her wineglass.

“Thank you,” he said with a self-satisfied smile.

“Although, I really doubt that my father possesses that level of skill at seduction.” This time she did allow herself to groan out loud. “I never thought I’d be talking about my father’s sex life. This is ridiculous.”

“They’ve had six months of exchanging letters and phone calls,” he said. “You have to expect some level of…longing.”

A giggle burst from her lips. “Longing? You seem to have an awful lot to say about romance. Are you speaking from experience? Or do you just do a lot of reading?”

“I’m a journalist,” he said. “I’m observant.”

“How many times have you been in love?” The moment she asked the question, she wanted to take it back. It was too personal and made her seem too interested in his past. She’d only met him seven hours ago.

“A few,” he said. “What about you?”

Mia wasn’t sure whether she ought to tell him the truth—that she’d never been in love—or whether it would be better to just lie. “Same,” she said.

In truth, she’d never really allowed herself to completely surrender to a man. While her mother was ill, she’d been too preoccupied to think about a social life and after her mom died, Mia spent her spare time with her dad, helping him cope with living on his own.

Maybe it was time to think about herself. What was wrong with indulging in a little romance with Jack Quinn? A kiss here or there might be fun. And she had a feeling that the sex would be incredible. And better still, he’d be gone in a few days, which meant that she wouldn’t have to deal with any long-term consequences. Unless, of course, Ben and Elyse ended up together and she had to face Jack at family functions.

Well, there was the perfect reason not to indulge her fantasies about this man. Knowing her sisters, they’d be able to see it the moment he walked into the room. And the last thing she’d want is to be fantasizing about her stepbrother over Thanksgiving dinner. That was just—weird.

“Look, look.”

His voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked over at the table to see her father draw Elyse’s hand to his lips. Mia held her breath as he kissed it and she felt emotion well up inside her.

Even after three years, she still saw sadness in his eyes. But now, he seemed so happy, so…young and carefree. Was it selfish of her to want him to be alone for the rest of his life? She couldn’t imagine that he’d ever be able to replace her mother, but maybe it wasn’t about replacing what he’d lost, but finding something completely new.

Tears pushed at the corners of her eyes and she drew in a sharp breath. “We have to go,” she said, grabbing her purse from the bar. “Now.”

She hurried toward the door, weaving through the patrons waiting for a table. When she reached the sidewalk, she stopped short and gulped in a deep breath of the cool evening air. The parking valet approached her and she held out her hand to stop him, then took off down the sidewalk.

The farther she got away from the restaurant, the less she knew what she was crying about. Was this about her father or was it about her own pathetic love life? For the first time in years, she found herself attracted to a man and she couldn’t bring herself to act on it.

Why couldn’t she have met Jack Quinn in a bar or at the grocery store? She could have indulged in a quick and simple affair without a second thought.

“Mia! Hey, wait up.”

She brushed the tears off her cheeks and pasted a smile on her face, then turned.

When he caught up to her, Jack reached out and gently grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

He stared down into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you.”

Mia nodded and fought back a fresh surge of tears. She laughed softly. “I really miss my mom.”

His hand moved to her cheek and he brushed the dampness away with his thumb. “Don’t cry.”

“Actually, I think a good cry is exactly what I do need,” Mia said. She’d kept her emotions in check for so long, trying to stay strong for her father. But now, it felt as if she could finally let go. He was fine now. And she was a mess.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. He stared down into her eyes, searching her gaze. And then, cupping her cheek in his hand, he turned her face up to his and kissed her.

Her breath caught the instant before their lips touched and she felt giddy and light-headed. And then, his mouth covered hers in a deep and delicious kiss. Mia’s knees wobbled and she grabbed the front of his shirt to balance herself, her fingers splaying against his chest.

He took her touch as an invitation and the kiss grew more passionate as he molded her mouth to his. Mia knew she’d been kissed before. But she was also certain that she’d never been kissed like this, with such raw desire and unbridled lust.

When he finally drew back, they just stared at each other for a long time, neither one of them sure what to say. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

She wanted to kiss him again. But Mia knew that wasn’t what he was asking. “Maybe we should just leave them alone.”

Jack nodded. “All right. I think that would be best.”

As they walked back to the parking valet, he grabbed her hand and drew it to his lips, pressing a kiss below her wrist. “I’m sorry if I caused those tears.”

“Sometimes it feels good to cry,” Mia said, drawing a ragged breath. And sometimes, it felt really good to kiss a man.

WHEN THE VALET BROUGHT the car, Mia handed Jack the keys, then crawled in the passenger side, slumping down in the seat and pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Where to?” he asked.

Mia shrugged. “I don’t care, just drive.”

Jack started the car and pulled out into the street, then wove through the village until he found the highway. The night was warm and the top was still down on the little convertible. April in Chicago could be chilly and damp. If he couldn’t enjoy kissing Mia, he’d at least enjoy the weather. He turned south, following the signs for the city.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Mia nodded. “I just get emotional at times. Whenever I really need my mother, I just feel so…lost. I should go see a shrink. I’m just not dealing with my grief very well.”

“Why? Because you miss your mom? Mia, if you want my opinion, you don’t want to lose those feelings. It’s all right to miss her. I still miss my dad. I still have imaginary conversations in my head with him. We talk about all kinds of things.”

“Really?” she said, turned toward him. “I do that, too. Lately, I’ve been trying to stop myself. I mean, I don’t actually think she’s here, but I kind of feel like she might be listening.”

“Maybe she is. I like to think the same thing about my dad.”

They drove for a long time in silence and when they reached the intersection for Highway 1, Mia pointed to the right. “Turn here.”

The highway twisted and turned, past residential areas and then leading into thick, dark forests. Jack kept his attention on the road, watching for sudden switchbacks and sharp curves. He suspected they were heading toward the coast and when he spotted signs for Muir Beach, he decided to pull off the road and into a parking lot.

He turned off the car and faced her. She seemed lost in her thoughts and he wasn’t sure whether he ought to interrupt. But then she turned to him suddenly. “What do you think of the notion of friends with benefits?”

Jack gasped softly. “Is that what you think is going on with your father and my—”

“No!” She drew a deep breath. “No. I was talking about us.” Mia frowned. “You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Jack held up his hand. “Yes. I know exactly what you’re talking about.” The twist in the conversation was completely unexpected. Hell, he’d been great at handling the hairpin turns on the road, but now, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Are we friends?”

“More like acquaintances. But I think we could be friends, given a little more time.”

“I agree,” he said. “So, why do you think this would work?”

Mia drew a deep breath, then reached out and grabbed his hand. She placed it on her chest. “Can you feel that?”

“Your heart?”

She nodded. “Feel how fast it’s beating? I can hardly catch my breath sometimes. And my brain is all mixed up.” Mia paused. “I haven’t felt like this in three years. In fact, I really haven’t felt anything in three years. I’ve made myself numb just to avoid feeling sad. And now, for the first time in a long time, I’m not numb anymore.”

He reached out and smoothed his hand over her cheek. “That’s good.”

Mia nodded. “Yes. And you have to admit, there is an attraction. I mean, I wasn’t sure, but then you kissed me. There is an attraction, isn’t there?”

“Oh, yes,” Jack replied.

“Then we should act on it.”

“Right now?”

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