Page 17 of Remote Access

Strangely happy to see he’d lost the melancholy of earlier, Quincy nodded. "That and snacks. We need to make a store run."

"You can and I'll just wait here."

Quincy frowned at him.

"Really? You think I'm going to leave all this and take off? At this point?"

“How could that possibly hurt you? Or surprise you?” Quincy stepped close to him and looked down into his face. "I don't know you. Not really. You’re a thief.”

Anger darkened Lane’s expression and he threw his pen onto the piles of papers. "All day we've been going through these files and what have we learned? That I'm not the only blackmailed kid, that this operation is crazy big."

"That millions move through this underground black market," Quincy added. He'd stuck with the financial pages while Lane kept looking for his poster. "Look, there are things I need in these files, too, so I can't risk you taking off."

Gray eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"Things that will keep me from being arrested along with the man."

Lane stared a few moments, then nodded and it was obvious from his expression and the loosening of his shoulders that he got it. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose. "I'm hungry anyway. Let's get a real meal instead of more snacks. We're not going to run into anyone who recognizes us in this town."

Quincy thought about it, then shrugged because he did want a real meal. He also didn't expect to see anyone who’d recognize him this far from the city. All of the pictures of him in the papers were from close to a year ago—when his hair had been a lot shorter.

They found a steakhouse nearby and Quincy took the wheel. He glanced at Lane often because the man never seemed to sit completely still. Something was always wiggling or tapping. He remembered having that kind of energy once. Smiling to himself, he pulled into the steakhouse parking lot, his stomach rumbling loudly as he parked.

Lane snorted and jumped out of the car. "I'm going to have a big ol' baked potato with mine and a slab of thick bread. That's how you guys eat steak here in cattle country, right?"

"You've watched too many fucking movies," Quincy muttered as they went inside. He was immediately assailed by country music and loud voices, and there were a few cowboy hats on the backs of chairs.

Lane pointed and smirked.

Quincy reached out and squeezed the back of his neck in retaliation and ignored the look of shock Lane shot him. He didn't know why he'd touched him either. He'd had to, for some reason.

Peanut shells crunched under their shoes as they were led to a nice corner booth. If this had been a date, it would have been the perfect spot. Out of the way. Private. And the backs of the booths were tall enough he could have slid in next to Lane and nobody could see any touching.

But this wasn't a fucking date.

Lane took off his fedora as he slid onto the seat across from Quincy. He set it next to him then ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair until it lay in a tousled mess on his head. The look suited him. He glanced around the restaurant and Quincy watched the play of shadows over his face. Lane really did have pretty features with those razor-sharp cheekbones, and lips that were driving him nuts. Especially because he kept chewing on the lower one. Quincy wanted to pull it from his teeth, run his thumb over it and order him to stop torturing it.

There were lots of things he wanted to do to the man.

He suddenly wondered if the freckles were on other parts of his body.

"You know, you look at me sometimes like you have a few exciting, private things in mind."

"Sorry," Quincy muttered with a self-deprecating laugh. "It's been a while and you may be too young for me, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the view."

"Your type, huh?"

"Very much so apparently," he murmured as a waiter came up to their table. He may be more of a new and shiny toy, but there was no doubt he wanted Lane.

They ordered steaks and he ignored Lane's smirk when he ordered baked potatoes for both of them. When the Texas toast arrived at the table, Lane lost it, his wide mouth falling open with laughter and his gray eyes sparkling. Quincy merely grinned, picked up a piece and took a huge bite.

Okay, so he did love buttery, grilled Texas toast and baked potatoes with his steak.

The bread went a long way to shutting down the constant growling his stomach had been doing for hours, so he relaxed back into his seat and stared at Lane as he picked at a piece of toast.

"This is actually pretty good." He winked at Quincy.

The casual confidence of the gesture struck Quincy as sexy. He found himself wanting to know more about the young man. "Can you tell me more about the things Letsen had you doing?"

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