Free The Mighty Quinns: Ronan by Kate Hoffmann Page A

state. We own the land on Kepley Pond where the hatchery is, but none of this.”
    Charlie found the spot she wanted and called to him and Ronan finished the last of the seed oysters. After setting the shovel down, he made his way back to Charlie, flopping down on the seat next to her. “Do we have another load to do?”
    They’d gone back to the hatchery twice already that day. “Nope. We’re finished.”
    He raised his hands above his head and shouted. “All right! I survived.” Ronan turned to her and slipped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a long, deep kiss. When he drew back, he had a devilish smile on his face. “Wait. Did I jump the gun? Do I have to wait until we dock at the boathouse?”
    “No,” she said. “Work is officially over. You did well. How do you feel?”
    “Exhausted. There were times when I just wanted off this boat, but I tried to focus on the job and that helped.” He kissed her again, tossing off his gloves so he could cup her face in his hands. “Thanks for being so patient with me. Can we drive home closer to the shore?”
    “It’ll take us longer,” she said.
    “I’m good with that.”
    He kissed her again, so sweet and so gentle, yet there was a raw power to his kiss that promised so much more. Charlie found it impossible to resist him. She was, after just a day, completely infatuated with the man.
    She’d always considered herself a fairly sensible person when it came to romance. With Danny, everything had been simple and straight-forward. But this romance was completely the opposite, a maelstrom of intense and uncontrollable feelings.
    The urge to toss aside her inhibitions and totally surrender to Ronan was becoming more and more difficult to ignore. She wanted to laugh out loud and leap through fields of daisies and sing love songs at the top of her voice. The old Charlotte Sibley would have been mortified to caught doing anything so ridiculous. But Charlie didn’t care what other people thought. The only thing she cared about was the man sitting next to her.
    “What are we going to do tonight?” he murmured, his breath soft against her ear.
    She smoothed her hands across his chest and drew back. “Do you want to do anything? I thought you might want to relax. You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”
    “I’m in good shape,” he said. “I won’t be sore.”
    “You will be. Believe me, unless you make a living shoveling snow, you’re going to feel it. The first time I did that job, I couldn’t move for three days.”
    He chuckled. “That’s because you’re a girl,” he said with a shrug.
    Charlie gasped. “You did not just say that.”
    He winced. “Backsies,” Ronan said. An odd look suddenly came over his face and he turned away.
    “Backsies? What is that?”
    He laughed softly. “I don’t know where that came from. It was buried really deep. Twenty years deep.”
    “What is it?”
    He turned back to her and forced a smile. “My mom used to say that. Whenever one of us would say something nasty, she’d ask if we wanted a backsie, which meant we could take it back before anyone heard it. It was her way of making us think before we spoke.”
    “You don’t have to take it back. I knew you were teasing.” She turned her gaze to meet his. “Are you all right?”
    “Yeah,” he said. “It was a nice memory.” Ronan drew a deep breath. “Are we having dinner with your folks again?”
    Charlie shook her head. “No, we don’t have to.”
    “What cuisine is it tonight?”
    “Most of the time we have normal food,” she explained. “Maybe meatloaf or roasted chicken or pork chops. Mona’s really a pretty decent cook. And once a month we have Thanksgiving.”
    “Thanksgiving?”
    Charlie nodded. “My mother thinks that a meal so wonderful should be enjoyed more than once a year. So she makes a turkey and dressing and mashed potatoes and all the fixings. We eat off my great-grandmother’s china and use the Sibley silver. And everyone