“You insulted my abilities. My ego got involved.” I hold out a hand to help her up. She’s deliciously naked, breasts swaying as she stands. So tempting. I want a repeat of what we just did. But I’m not twenty anymore. I need my recovery time.
Also, food. For myself, sure, but I also need to feed my girl. I’m supposed to be taking care of her.
I scoop up my board shorts and tug them back on. “What would you like for lunch?”
“I don’t care. Anything. I can make it if you want.”
I give her a side-eye. “I’mtaking care ofyou, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s very sweet of you. But I think you like controlling how everything goes, too.” She leans into me and whispers, “I think you get off on it.”
I swat her bare butt. She giggles and disappears into the master bedroom. I hear the shower running a moment later.
While I’d love to join her in there, I should get the food going. We’ve got all day and all night to enjoy each other. If I’m lucky, all of tomorrow too.
By the time she emerges, I’ve got sandwiches and fresh-cut veggies arranged on plates. Her hair is damp and wavy. She’s wearing my Team Triumph shirt, the one with the sleeves cut off. It hangs low on her thighs, and when I pull her close and slide my hands beneath, I find she’s wearing a skimpy pair of lace panties. In fact, I can peek in the cut-off sides of the shirt and get a nice show.
After we both eat, I go to clean myself up. I suggest strongly to Quinn that she lie down for a nap. She agrees to rest on the couch, and I find some blankets to keep her cozy while I’m gone.
I quickly shower and dress in my gray sweats, not bothering with a shirt. But when I get out to the living room, staying quiet so I don’t wake her, I find Quinn sitting up at the kitchen table.
And she’s got her phone, thumb scrolling rapidly across the screen.
“Hey, I thought you were resting.”
“I couldn’t rest while I thought about all the emails that had probably built up in my inbox. And I was right. This is a horror show.”
I go over to the table and lean a hand against it. “The screen isn’t making your headache act up?”
She shrugs. “It’s bothering me a little. But this email from Derek Keller? Ugh, that’s a freaking pain.”
“Keller? He’s the defense lawyer for Amber Printz?” I remember seeing him in the DA building the other day. The same eventful day, in fact, that we took the trip to LA, and afterward Quinn was attacked. “Why does he keep bothering you?”
“It’s kind of his job. But I’m sure it’s a passion too.” She smirks. “Derek wrote to express his sincere concern for my health and welfare, and he wants me to call him to discuss the Printz case. Whatever. I’m not writing him back until I’m good and ready.” She turns off the screen and sighs. “The rest of these emails can wait. But I was hoping for an update from Sylvie and her team. Have you heard anything from them?”
“Sure, I have. I’ve been checking in with her every day. I know how important the Printz trial is to you, so I wanted to make sure I knew the latest.”
“And?”
I shake my head. “Nothing to report. But we could try Sylvie again now if you want.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” she asks guiltily. “I’m sorry. I know today is supposed to be a date, and I should be thinking about you and me, but this is nagging at me.”
I bend to kiss the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry. I love how dedicated you are. I respect the hell out of that. Come on, let’s sit in the living room and use my phone. If you’re up for it, we can call Detective De Luca and see if she has anything for us as well.” I hold out my hand, and she takes it, getting up from the chair and following me into the living room.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“I’m the last guy to complain about work being a priority. You don’t have to worry about that with me.” I know some guys who gripe about their women working or having hobbies, as ifthey can’t bear not to be number one at all times. But Quinn wouldn’t be who she is without her career. I wouldn’t change anything about her.
“Good,” she says. “Same here. Sounds like we’re a pretty good match.”
“Seems like we are.” We pause for a few kisses, but before things can get heated, I sit on the couch and tug her onto my lap. Just because we’re taking a break for work doesn’t mean we can’t cuddle up at the same time.
But I’m going to keep these calls audio only. No need to give Sylvie or Angela an eyeful.
First up, I call Sylvie’s work number. “Hey, Foxy,” she drawls. Quinn covers her mouth, but her laughter must carry. Because Sylvie asks, “Is that Quinn?”
“Yes. You’re on speaker.”