Home For Christmas by Kay Patricia

Author:Kay, Patricia [Kay, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance
Published: 2012-12-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

After Peter left, Quinn asked herself at least a dozen times how a man so understanding and kind when it came to a young girl’s feelings could have been so thickheaded when it came to hers. When he’d talked about Tracy, he had revealed a sensitivity that astounded Quinn. Suddenly, she saw him in an entirely different light.

Perhaps her aunt had been right about him all along. Perhaps Peter was everything Fiona thought he was. But then why had he been so downright blind, even mean at times, to Quinn?

Peter was so darned contradictory. There were so many things about him that made no sense at all. Here he was, an educated, intelligent man in his late thirties, and he lived as if he were at the beginning of his career. Although Quinn knew schoolteachers didn’t make a fortune, shouldn’t Peter have accumulated something by now? Why was he living in three rented rooms? Why did he seem to care so little about his appearance? And why didn’t he ever talk about himself or his family?

She would’ve liked to ask her aunt if she knew anything about Peter’s background. But if she did that, Fiona would really start getting ideas, and Quinn wanted to avoid that happening at all costs.

She continued to think about him throughout the evening and after she went to bed that night. The next morning, he was still on her mind. She wondered if she would see him that evening, if he’d stop in after school.

He didn’t stop in. In fact, she didn’t hear him come home at all. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. Maybe he had a date. The thought bothered her as she tried to picture what sort of woman Peter would date.

Quinn saw him as being attracted to blonds. Maureen is a blond. Yes, she saw him being attracted to someone like Maureen. If that’s the case, why would he be attracted to you? But if he wasn’t, why did he kiss me like that? Her heart skipped at the reminder of those turbo-charged kisses.

On and on her thoughts went, circling, coming back to the original point, circling again. Her aunt finally commented on her preoccupation, saying, “Is something the matter, Quinn?” Quinn had been staring at the TV screen. “Hmm? Uh, no, everything’s fine.”

Fiona’s knitting needles went click, click, click as she contin-ued to work on a light blue sweater for Jan. “Are you sure? You act as if you’re in another world.”

Quinn gave Fiona a reassuring smile. “You know me, Aunt Fiona. Always daydreaming.”

Fiona smiled back, but a speculative gleam remained in her eyes.

The following day, Quinn decided she would find some reason to sit in the kitchen until Peter got home. He usually arrived about five o’clock, but there had been several days in the past month when he’d come home as early as four-fifteen, so about ten minutes after four, she headed for the kitchen. ‘‘I feel like a cup of tea,” she told her aunt.

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