“I moved to Boston. Isn’t it exciting? I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. When I heard how much fun you and Mary were having, I just had to come.”
Mary—the reason he was here. He tore his gaze from Quintessa.
There was Mary, standing by the telephone in a brown suit, the receiver cradled to her cheek. “Yes, that’s right. Two for seven. Thank you. Good-bye.”
“Mary.” Her name flowed out, full of hope and longing.
“It’s good to see you. I’m glad you came home safely.” She hung up the telephone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to serve Yvette her soup. She’s been sick in bed, poor dear. You two go have fun. Everything’s set.”
You two? “What?”
“You have so much catching up to do.” Mary headed for the kitchen door. “Besides, Quintessa came all the way to Boston just to see you.”
“Oh, Mary.” Quintessa clucked her tongue. “I came to see you too.”
“Of course you did.” Mary raised a teasing smile and went into the kitchen.
Quintessa sighed and laid her hand on Jim’s arm. “I admit, it’s partly true.”
“What?” Jim blinked hard and faced Quintessa, everything heaving him around like the seas off Greenland.
Quintessa gazed up at him through long lashes. “I have to admit, I was a bit jealous of Mary having so much fun with our handsome naval officer, and I had to come.”
He couldn’t swallow, couldn’t see straight. He’d always adored Quintessa, and now she looked at him ... adoringly. But Mary—he loved Mary. And what was she doing?
“Bye. Have fun.” Mary leaned out the kitchen door and gave them a smile and a wave as if sending her little brother out on a date.
What on earth? Didn’t she remember their kiss? He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”
“Me?” She turned away and tied an apron around her waist. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your special date.”
Jim’s hands balled up. Interrupt? Interrupt? Mary was supposed to be his special date.
“Poor confused Jim.” Quintessa giggled. “That’s why I have our evening all planned out. I have for over a week, in case you came home. As soon as Mary spotted you coming down the hill, she called the Normandie for me. We have reservations at seven, so we’d better hurry. Let me freshen up. Won’t take but a moment.”
Jim nodded absently, but as soon as Quintessa left, he hung up his damp overcoat and marched into the kitchen. “Mary?”
“Hmm?” She stood at the stove, her back to him, ladling soup into two bowls.
He stopped and stared at her, the blue apron tied around her tiny waist, her dark hair curling on her shoulders, begging for his fingers.Ever since we said good-bye... this wasn’t how he’d imagined hello.
“Yes?” Mary glanced over her shoulder at him.
Jim cleared his throat. “What’s going on?”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” She leaned back against the stove and wiped her hands on her apron. “All your dreams come true. Sometimes a broken heart allows a woman to see the good in a man she’d overlooked.”
He shook his head, comprehending but not comprehending. “I don’t under—” He waved his hand south, in the general direction of the docks. Didn’t she remember? Didn’t she still feel that kiss as he did? “When I left—when we said good-bye—”
“Oh, that.” She tilted her head, one corner of her mouth dimpled. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Worry ...?”
“The kiss,” she whispered, and she peeked past him through the doorway. “I know it didn’t mean anything. I know it was just for show. You don’t have to worry about me building a silly fantasy.”
His jaw hardened. It didn’t mean anything to her? She thought he’d kissed her back just for show? Well, she might not have built a silly fantasy, but he had.
“Just a friendly kiss,” he said through gritted teeth.
