Page 6 of Hot Lovin'

He cracks a smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but does wonders to soften the hard lines of his face. I want to see his brooding mouth lift in a smile just for me—a real one that reaches those silver-gray eyes that make me forget my name.

“I’ll let you off with a warning this time,” he quips, stepping closer.

Quinn removes his hat and pulls up a chair opposite mine without waiting for an invitation. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and I see the concern etched into his features. “I’m here about Aiden’s case, as promised. To offer my insight. Fill in any details that might have slipped through from the other night.”

I tap my pen against the mountain of paperwork. “I’m knee-deep in trying to form a picture of Aiden’s day-to-day life. His situation is more tangled than last year’s Christmas lights.”

“What’s got you tangled up?” Despite Quinn’s stoic exterior, something flickers in his eyes. Concern, maybe? Does he know more than he’s letting on?

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “This is the kind of case that keeps me up at night, you know? Not to jump the gun, but Aiden’s parents seem like monsters. I met him earlier at the foster home. He’s such a sweet kid and doesn’t deserve any of this.” I let out a sigh, the image of Aiden’s small, hopeful face flashing across my mind. “With each layer I peel back, the picture gets uglier.” I spill the beans about the inconsistencies in the testimonies of Aiden’s parents, the unexplained injuries, and the way Aiden flinches at sudden movements, a classic sign that doesn’t lie.

Quinn’s jaw tightens, a steel trap ready to snap shut on any threat. “You think both the parents are involved?”

“Deeply.” The word tastes bitter. “This is more than neglect or the occasional outburst.”

A muscle ticks in his cheek. “Poor kid. How could anyone do that to their child?”

“I wish I had an answer,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I close my eyes briefly. “I’m worried I’ll miss something important, and they’ll get him back.”

Quinn nods, the corner of his mouth twitching downward. “We’ve got to get this right. Kid’s counting on us.”

“Us?” I repeat, warmth blooming within the tight confines of my chest. Despite our messy introduction yesterday morning, Quinn’s presence is reassuring, and his determination mirrors mine.

He leans forward, forearms resting on my paper fortress. “Us,” he confirms, his mercury eyes holding mine.

My heart thumps at the promise in his words and the intensity in his eyes. Why does that word sound like so much more?

I half-expect him to pull out a badge and declare it all part of his civic duty, but his offer isn’t surprising, given his reputation. That he’s offering help to me specifically makes my stomach swirl with something akin to excitement.

I press my lips together. “I want Aiden to know he’s not alone. That he’s got people looking out for him.”

Quinn nods. “He’ll know. We’ll make sure of it.”

An unspoken promise hangs in the air between us, a vow to protect Aiden at all costs. I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding, absorbing the strange sense of camaraderie in knowing that Quinn is on board with the case. It doesn’t make Aiden’s situation any less serious, but somehow, the burden feels a bit lighter.

“I talked to some of the neighbors. They’ve seen things, heard things,” Quinn says, breaking the silence. “Aiden’s been through hell. But he’s strong. I see it in him, just like you do.”

“I want to give him a chance,” I say softly. “A real chance to feel safe, to feel loved.”

“And we will,” Quinn assures me, his voice firm. “I’ve already arranged for extra patrols around his foster home. No one’s going to get to him.”

The determination in his voice brings a sense of relief I didn’t know I needed. “Thank you, Quinn. It means a lot. Who knows what his parents are capable of?”

Quinn pauses as if weighing his words carefully. “Alicia and Mike Hartless have been on my radar for some time.”

The statement sends a shiver down my spine, and it’s not from the office’s questionable air conditioning.

“What do you mean?” My voice is barely above a whisper, curiosity nibbling away at my professionalism.

“Sunrise Bay might look like a greeting card on the surface, but we both know every town has its shadows. Our quaint little town is just a front for the Hartless couple.”

My eyes widen. “You mean… drugs?” The word is foreign in my mouth, like I’m speaking another language. “In Sunrise Bay? With kids running around and ice cream trucks on every corner?”

“Exactly.” Quinn’s tone is grim. “And it’s not just small-time deals. They’re connected to a network outside of town that the feds have taken an interest in.”

“Great,” I mutter, rubbing at my temple where a headache is blossoming. “So, we’ve got our very own Bonnie and Clyde, minus the charm and the vintage getaway car.”

“Something like that.” The corner of his mouth twitches, a hint of a smile that vanishes quicker than a shooting star.

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