Shoot. What was he waiting for? He adjusted everything under her curious gaze and then reached for her. To his delight, she settled into his side, her head on his shoulder.
“I needed this,” he said as he kissed her hair. He could feel her grin against his chest, and he settled in, not wanting to move.
They sat that way for a few minutes, soaking in the moment, soaking in one another.
Ginny was the one who broke the silence. “InfantPure is dead.”
He closed his eyes. She’d had such hope, wanted to make a difference in the world with the pill. “Can you resurrect it?” With Ginny in his arms, he believed anything was possible.
She shook her head. “We’re at the dead end of all dead ends.” She ducked slightly. “I hate to admit it, but Jillian was right to cancel the project. The technology to finish doesn’t exist. I really hate it when she’s right.”
He thought for a moment. Lockwood Family Pharmaceuticals was a medium-level name in pharmaceuticals. The other companies were competition.
He rubbed her shoulder. “Would you sell it?”
“I’d entertain an offer.”
His hand paused mid-circle. That wasn’t the response he thought he’d get. When Ginny had left, InfantPure was the biggest goal of her life. She’d wanted to save babies’ lives and money, and time didn’t figure into the equation.
She snuggled deeper into him. “I feel peace about that idea.”
He draped his arm across her and held her close as the sea slipped by and the scenery changed. His mental stumble over her answer was for naught. She was the same Ginny he’d fallen in love with. Now, if only he could figure out a way to tell her without making her run away.
They passed the afternoon companionably. There were moments when their eyes met that he swore he could see more there than friendship. But the look would pass, and he’d be left wondering once again. Had he known that being engaged to his best friend would be a slow kind of agony, he would have … Who was he kidding? He’d rather be engaged to Ginny than to lose her—even if it meant sealing his lips and his feelings.
Her car was parked at the dock, and she was off and running to a phone call from their manufacturer overseas before the crew had the engines shut down.
Quinn walked slowly along the wooden platforms, enjoying the view of a white beach and Dawson’s lighthouse house on the peninsula. Quinn loved the water, but the Sound could get rough and angry. He much preferred living on the hill. Even the noise of airplanes taking off and landing on the airstrip nearby was comforting to him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Wilaby?”
Quinn bounced his eyes off the new wooden beams beneath his feet to find Jean Claude from Bravo Security scrutinizing him. He jerked a look behind him to make sure the yacht was secure and in the proper slip—he didn’t want to violate the codes, covenants, and regulations of The Cove. Friendship and history aside, Adam Moreau would have his head. “Yes?”
“You have a guest at the gate.”
He sped up. Ginny must have forgotten something. “You can let her in.”
Jean Claude matched his rhythm. “It’s not a woman.”
Quinn stopped. “I’m not expecting anyone.”
“He says he’s your father.”
Quinn’s blood froze in his veins and his back went ramrod straight. “What does he want?”
Chapter Eighteen
Ginny
Ginny had rushed home from her date with Quinn under the pretense of having an important phone call. Being with Quinn was wonderful. Almost too wonderful. She’d spent half the date pretending they were a real engaged couple and the other half trying to make sure her true feelings didn’t show.
But there were moments when their eyes would meet that she was swept away and she couldn’t hide her heart. As soon as she’d realize her emotions were written on her face like a billboard, she’d rein in and do her best to regain her composure.
Falling in love was exhausting.
And she was falling in love with him. There was no denying that her soul had found its match and wanted to be with him for the rest of her life.
She should tell him.
