How many other times had they circled so close? Would the intensity of their response to each other have been the same under different circumstances, and without the anonymity?
Darcy Clark. Adrenaline propelled him to his feet, sent him pacing. He knew who she was. He knew where to find her. He could see her again, relieve himself of the burden of wondering what might have been. Even though he could be putting his balls in jeopardy—as Steve, a fairly disgusting friend of Kim’s brother, would have phrased it—Troy was going to take that chance.
Because he didn’t think he’d be able to get the fantasy to stop torturing him any other way.
MARIE WALKED THROUGH ROOTS restaurant and down the stairs to the Cellar. Not her usual Friday-evening date with Quinn, but Darcy had called earlier and asked to meet her here tonight, her regular Monday off from the restaurant. Marie was relieved. It wasn’t likely Darcy had arranged a public meeting at Marie’s favorite haunt in order to scream at her again. Face-to-face they’d be able to work things out. Darcy would apologize for yelling last Saturday, then Marie would apologize for stepping over the line—except that in sending the email to Troy, she’d taken yet another step, and frankly, she wasn’t averse to going further if necessary.
Maybe Quinn was right and she was overdoing the meddling, but instinct told her she was using justifiable means to reach a desirable and inevitable end.
She rounded the bottom step and saw Darcy right away, looking radiant as usual in a low-cut white top under a teal sweater. She was laughing, leaning her dark head intimately toward an instantly familiar man, who was also laughing and leaning his dark head intimately toward her.
Quinn, halfway through a martini. Darcy, halfway through hers.
Marie’s heart froze in her chest. They’d been there awhile? Together?
Quinn was speaking now, reaching to touch Darcy’s forearm. She tipped her head to one side, listening raptly, her long, lovely throat exposed, her lush cleavage exposed.
Marie’s heart: brutally exposed. How often had she told herself that Quinn and Darcy would make a perfect couple? And there they were, having found each other without her help, two strong, tall head-turners with striking personalities. Quinn was twelve years older, but relationships could go along nicely with that age difference, and Darcy was in many ways an old soul. She’d hinted here and there that her childhood and early adulthood were difficult, which could force a kid to mature early. Quinn was going to find someone sooner or later; he’d already admitted he was looking for something more serious than his usual array of casual flings.
Steady, Marie. Darcy wasn’t Quinn’s date for dinner and dancing this Friday.
Forcing herself to relax, she marched forward, determined to act as naturally as possible to prove to Quinn, and maybe to herself, that she could handle this. “Hello, there.”
Quinn turned, ditto Darcy. Either they had nothing to feel guilty about or neither saw her as any type of threat, because they both broadcasted genuine welcome.
“I bumped into someone you know, Marie.” Quinn gave his killer smile to Darcy, who beamed back. “It’s great to meet one of your friends.”
Marie would just bet.
“It’s great that my friends are meeting each other.” She congratulated herself for not sounding as if she were speaking through clenched teeth.
“Join us.” Quinn indicated the seat on the other side of Darcy instead of the one next to him.
Not a problem. Everything was cool.
“Sit, Marie.” Darcy got down from her stool. “I’m headed to the ladies’ room. Back in a second.”
Marie climbed onto the seat Quinn chose for her, determined to be cheerful and business-as-usual. “How are things? The situation at work resolved?”
He looked blank. Had Darcy erased his brain? She could undoubtedly do that to a lot of men. “The situation?”
“You said there was something you’d put a lot of effort into that wasn’t working out.”
“Ah.” He rubbed his hand thoughtfully over his chin. “I remember now. Yeah, I think there still might be hope.”
“Okay. Well. That’s good.” She hated that he seemed awkward talking about anything with her. That was a first.