“Thank you for coming with me,” Quinn said graciously, as he settled down in his seat, content next to Maggie. He had enjoyed sharing the boat with her. He had never known another woman with an equal passion for sailboats. And even he had to admit, this one was special. There wasn't another boat like her. It meant a lot to him that Maggie understood that. Vol de Nuit was going to be a yacht that no one forgot once they'd seen her. He would have loved to share her with Jane, but in his heart of hearts, he knew that she would not have appreciated or enjoyed her as much as Maggie. Sailboats had never been Jane's passion. In fact, if she'd been alive, he knew he would never have bought her. Particularly after they lost Doug, Jane had wanted nothing to do with sailboats. But she hadn't liked them even before that. It was something one was either born with or wasn't. It was rarely an acquired passion. And as it was in Quinn's, Maggie's love for boats was in her bloodstream.
They each selected movies to watch on their individual screens, and ordered dinner. They chatted quietly while they ate, about the details of the boat, and afterward, Maggie put her seat back and watched the movie till she fell asleep. Quinn looked over and saw her dozing next to him, and with a smile, he gently covered her with a blanket. It had been a whirlwind trip, and he'd accomplished a great deal, but more than that, he had come to know Maggie even better. Not just her love for boats, or understanding of the fine details of the project, what he had discovered was something far more important, and deeper. He had found the true generosity of her spirit, in being able to rejoice for him, and celebrate his accomplishment, knowing full well that the boat she'd seen was what would ultimately take him from her. She had faced her rival squarely, saluted and admired her, and was prepared to move away gracefully when he left her. It was the one thing Quinn had never found in any woman, not even Jane, and it was what made him realize now that he loved Maggie.
10
THE PLANE FROM PARIS ARRIVED IN SAN FRANCISCO slightly delayed, at one o'clock in the morning. Maggie had been asleep for most of the night, and was rested when Quinn woke her just before they landed. He had filled her customs card out for her, and handed it to her, as she smiled sleepily at him. She was sorry to be home again, and wished they had decided to spend a night in Paris. The trip seemed like a dream now. But she also knew that Quinn was busy. He had much to do before his move, and he wanted to close Jane's estate by September, which was no small project, and Maggie knew that. She followed Quinn's timetable, and was just glad he had taken her to see his sailboat.
They went through customs rapidly at that hour, and took a cab to the city. They were halfway there when he looked at her. They had no reason to go home that night, and suddenly he didn't want to. He liked sleeping next to her, and he was still reluctant to spend a night with her in either of their houses. His own still felt like Jane's house, and he realized it would until he left it.
“Would you like to sleep on the Molly B tonight?” he asked with a smile as he put an arm around her, and she nodded. She hadn't wanted to sleep alone that night either. She was growing accustomed to him, and missed him on the nights they didn't spend together. But she also knew that she would have to get used to it eventually. No matter how much she loved sleeping with him, and being with him, and making love with him, he would be gone soon.
“I'd love it,” she said happily. She knew she would forever remember the months they were spending on the Molly B together.
“We can take a sail in the morning. I don't have to meet my attorney till four-thirty.”
The boat was locked up tight when they arrived, but Quinn had the key for the doors and the alarm. The crew were on board, but they were undoubtedly sleeping. The first mate was on watch as they came in, and he carried their bags to Quinn's cabin, and offered them something to eat, but neither of them was hungry.
They both took showers and went to bed, and as soon as they did, Maggie nestled close to him, and he put an arm around her.
“Thank you for a wonderful trip,” she whispered to him. “I think you and Vol de Nuit are going to be very happy with each other.”
He wanted to tell her then how much her generosity of spirit meant to him, but for some reason, he didn't. He didn't know what to say to her. He knew now that he was in love with her, but it didn't change anything for him, and he didn't want to foster false hopes or illusions. He was afraid if he told her how he felt, she would think that he might stay, or return for her, and he knew he couldn't. He felt he owed it to Jane somehow to be alone, to venture on with his solitary travels. After all he had done, and failed to do in his life, he knew he did not deserve to spend the rest of his life with Maggie. She was young enough to find someone else, have a wholesome life, and forget him.