The Mighty Quinns: Dermot-Dex

She grabbed the bread from the refrigerator and began to assemble three ham sandwiches, the favorite pre-dinner dinner for the boys. They’d find the milk and cookies on their own.

She had an hour before milking, and after that, they’d go into town for Trevor’s football game. Right now, she wanted to curl up in bed and talk to Dermot. She grabbed her laptop from the table, unplugging the power cord.

To her delight, the boys had put in a wireless router to handle the three laptops in the house. It allowed her to talk to Dermot from anywhere, including the barn. Rachel climbed the stairs and shut her bedroom door behind her. Then she opened her laptop and dialed into Dermot’s computer. A few seconds later his face appeared on the screen.

“You’re early,” he said. “Is everything all right?

“It’s fine,” she said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Are you in your bedroom?” Dermot asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you naked?”

“No,” Rachel said. “But I can take care of that if you want.”

He groaned. “We have to stop with the online sex, sweetheart. It’s making me crazy.”

Rachel smiled. “I thought we were getting rather good at it.”

“It’s not like the real thing,” Dermot replied.

“Why don’t you take off your clothes first,” she said.

“I can’t right now. I’m at the office and I have a meeting in exactly three minutes. But we can make a date for later.”

“I’m going to Trevor’s football game later. And Jane is here now, so I have to get her settled. But I will try.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said. He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to the screen. “Miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Rachel said.

She pressed her fingers to the screen. A moment later, it went black and she sighed softly. How many more nights would she have to spend alone?

DERMOT SAT AT A STOPLIGHT, the Mercedes sedan idling beneath the music coming from the radio. The wipers slapped back and forth in a counter-tempo and he squinted out into the afternoon shower.

His mind flashed back to the rainy afternoons he’d spent on Rachel’s farm, the quiet time making love in her bed while the thunder rumbled outside, the freshened air blowing at the lace curtains in her bedroom.

All of his memories were so clear, so real, that he could almost imagine himself back there. He knew they’d agreed to wait until Christmas before they saw each other again, but every weekend, after every call, he fought the urge to hop on a plane and go visit her.

He couldn’t imagine that she’d be disappointed to see him. They spent every evening on the phone or on video chat, and though it wasn’t even close to being enough, it was all he had for now.

How many nights had he lain awake, thinking about making love to her, reliving every moment they’d spent in each other’s arms. It wasn’t just the miles between them, it was the need to touch her, to reassure himself that she was real, that what they’d shared was real.

He thought that returning to Seattle would help him put his priorities in order. But since he and his brothers had returned, everything had been turned upside down. All four of them had managed to meet women who had changed their lives, but none of them had made a move to leave Seattle for love.

It didn’t help that in the six weeks away, work had piled up and they were busier than they’d ever been. Dermot had three sales trips planned for the next two weeks, all to meet clients who were looking to build a custom yacht.

He used to love his job, the challenge of the sale, the high he got when a client signed on the bottom line and handed over a check for the down payment. And it had been fun to socialize with the rich and famous. It had certainly put him in a good place to meet a lot of beautiful women.

But there was only one woman he was interested in now and she was living on a farm in Wisconsin, tending to a herd of troublesome goats. Dermot smiled as he remembered the two of them, standing on the gate and watching as the goats frolicked in the field.

This was crazy. Why was he denying himself the only thing that he really wanted in the world? The truth was, he was just marking time here in Seattle, waiting until he could see her again. Why not just go?

Dermot picked up his cell phone and dialed his office number. His assistant picked up after two rings. “Hey, Lisa. I need you to book me a ticket for Chicago, for tonight. See if you can find a flight that leaves after seven. I still have to get through rush hour and get home to pack. Eight would be even better. And reserve a rental car.”

He finished giving her the details, then hung up. A slow smile broke across his face. “That was easy,” he murmured to himself. Now, should he tell Rachel he was coming or should it be a surprise? They usually did a video chat around six his time and she’d be expecting that. But he could do that from the airport, if need be.

Given the travel time between Chicago and Seattle, and the drive out to the farm, he’d probably arrive in the middle of the night. He’d call her when he was a few miles away.

His phone rang and he picked it up. The caller ID was from Lisa in the office. “Are we booked?” he asked.

“Sorry,” she said. “There are no seats left on any flights direct from Sea-Tac to Chicago. If you want to fly to L.A. first, I can get you to Chicago by 5:00 a.m. Or you can fly to Atlanta and then to Chicago, but that puts you in really late, too. You can go to the airport and wait to see if something opens up.”

“No,” Dermot said. “Never mind. I’ll try to book something for next weekend. Take a look at the schedules for me and find some good flights.”

He sighed softly as he waited for the traffic to start moving again. If he hadn’t scheduled a sales appointment in Tacoma for late in the day, he would have been home by now, enjoying a cold beer and ordering a pizza.

He’d gone back to his normal eating habits since returning from Wisconsin. Farm work had kept him incredibly fit and even the huge breakfasts and crazy fair food hadn’t impacted his waist. But once he returned to his sedentary life in Seattle, he’d had to work hard to keep fit.

There were days when he longed for the deep, exhausting exercise that he got loading straw and feed bags into the back of the truck, and muscling goats into the milking stanchions. It was hard work, but it had been satisfying.

And yet, he knew he couldn’t live on the farm with Rachel. As much as he loved her, for now, his place was here with his grandfather and his brothers. They’d both been trapped by family loyalty, Rachel in her quest to keep the farm in the family and him in his need to pay back his grandfather for everything he’d done to raise them.

As much as Martin Quinn wanted his grandsons to go out into the world and find their own dreams, he loved having them home, too. The company ran better with the four of them at full speed.

Dermot picked up his cell phone and hit the memory dial for Rachel. If he were stuck in traffic, then he’d find something pleasant to occupy his time. But, to his surprise, she didn’t pick up. Instead, one of the boys answered.

“Hey, is this Trevor?”

“Nope, Taylor.”

“Taylor, it’s Dermot. How are things going? You working hard?”

“Our mom is living here now,” Taylor said. “She’s learning how to milk the goats. And she’s making soap to sell. And Aunt Rachel hired a guy to help with the milking. Did she tell you that?”

“She did. How’s he getting along?”

“He’s not as fun as you. He hardly says anything. His name is Leroy and he has a tattoo, but Eddie likes him because he was in the Navy and so was Eddie.”

Dermot chuckled. He’d heard all the news from Rachel, but Taylor seemed determined to fill him in. “How are the goats?”

“Benny jumped into the truck yesterday when Aunt Rachel was taking Trevor out for a driving lesson. And Aunt Rachel says that the goats will start having babies in March. I think you should come and see us.”

“Is your aunt Rachel there?”

A long silence came over the line and Dermot waited for an answer. “She’s not here right now,” Taylor said. “But she told us if you called we should tell you that she would talk to you later.”