Bailey's Irish Dream by DEBBY CONRAD

Author:DEBBY CONRAD [Conrad, Debby]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Amazon: B0098D2GHU
Publisher: DEBBY CONRAD
Published: 2012-09-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

For the second night in a row Quinn cooked dinner for the Maguires. Fajitas this time, because Dillon had suggested it. The boy had even surprised Quinn by eating three of them.

After dinner Quinn persuaded Dillon to help him with the kitchen mess. “I hate doing dishes,” Dillon complained as he wedged a glass in the top rack of the dishwasher. “This is girl stuff.”

Quinn raised a brow and handed the boy another glass. “Yeah? Says who?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, lifting his shoulders.

‘The way I look at it is, you eat, you help clean up. Simple as that. When I was growing up, I did the dishes every night.”

“You did? I bet that sucked. Is that why you like cooking and all that stuff? Because you had to do the dishes so much?”

Quinn smiled at the boy. “I like it because it’s therapeutic. When I’m cooking I reflect about my life.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding as if he had no idea what Quinn meant.

“Which reminds me,” Quinn said, drying his hands on a dishtowel and passing it to Dillon. “Have you been watching your mouth around your little sister?”

“I try to, but sometimes she makes me mad.”

“Last night, when I gave you that high-five, I was just playing around.”

Dillon scowled. “Yeah, I know. My dad said you were just being a jerk.”

Quinn nodded, trying not to look offended. “Your dad was right.”

“I asked my dad if you were such a jerk, then why would Aunt Bailey want to marry you.”

“And what did your dad say?”

A serious look fell on his face. “He said, sometimes people see the good things in someone that others can’t see.”

Quinn was about to comment when he saw Doyle standing in the doorway.

“I think your dad mentioned going for ice cream,” Doyle told his grandson.

Dillon grinned, wadded the dishtowel in a ball, and tossed it on the counter. He turned on his heel to leave, then stopped. “Uh, do you still need my help?”

Quinn waved him off. “Go ahead. I can handle the rest by myself.” Turning his back on Doyle, he went back to the dishes.

“He’s a good kid. Smart too.”

“Uh, huh.” Quinn slid a dinner plate into the bottom rack.

“So,” Doyle said, “who gave you the other shiner?”

“Nobody you know.”

“That’s the way it’s going to be, huh?”

Quinn gave the man a sideways glance, but didn’t bother to respond. What did Maguire think? That they were going to be good buddies, now that they shared a secret?

“What I can’t figure out is, why you’re going to all this trouble; cooking for all of us, working in the kitchen. Who are you trying to impress? Bailey? And if so, I want to know why.”

Turning off the faucet, Quinn turned to look fully at Doyle. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, especially not Bailey.”

Doyle squinted his eyes at him. “You could have fooled me.”

Quinn picked up the towel and ran his hands through it. “Look, I’m concerned about her, that’s all. And I plan on hanging around for awhile, so you’d better get used to it.

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