Page 79 of Digging Up Love
She already knew finding dinosaur fossils in Illinois was a huge deal. What she didn’t know was digging up bones was just a small part of his job. He told her that his time in the lab, reconstructing fossils and sifting through data, reframing the way the past spoke to the present, fascinated him the most.
He kept waiting for her to check her phone, or stifle a yawn, but she never did. She asked questions to pull more out of him, rather than shut him up. Her face bore the same rapt expression as when she’d shown him their photos earlier. Earnest. Sincere. Joyful.
“You’re so passionate about your work. It’s inspiring,” said Alisha. “And I’m sure, deep down, your dad is proud of you.” She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand.
That makes one of us.
To change the topic off his father, he said, “Hey, are you hungry? I know a good Mexican restaurant near here. We could go grab some lunch.”
“Sounds great.” They left the shadow of the loomingT. rexskeleton, then passed through the Ice Age wing back out onto the balcony. A toddler darted past, chased by her harried dad, and Alisha scooted back, tripping over Quentin’s feet.
“Whoops-a-daisy!” She recovered quickly and kept walking. Unable to let this one slide, he outpaced her, stopping in her path.
“Hold up, miss. Did you just say ‘whoops-a-daisy’?”
Chin up, she tried to sweep past him. Quentin sidestepped. With a gleam in her eye, Alisha feinted right, then did a spin move, but he grabbed her waist and twirled her around, then set her down with a grin.
“I know, I’m ridiculous.” She giggled. “But hey, when your grandparents raise you, kind of hard not to wind up with the vocabulary of an AARP member.”
They started back down the marble staircase, worn smooth over the years by countless visitors. Alisha’s white sneaker slipped on a step, and she flung a hand out. He grabbed her arm to steady her, loving the curve of her smooth muscles under his fingertips. A shiver went through him, and she looked his way.
“What?”
“It’s just ...” Ugh, he didn’t know how to say this. “Your arms are so strong. All of you, really.” So much for not sounding creepy. “I, uh ... I just remember the first day of the dig ... when Bridget and I showed up, we interrupted your workout. I saw how much weight you had on the bar. That’s more than my brother dead lifts, and he hits the gym all the time. It seems like you’re really into lifting, but you rarely mention it.”
“You remember that?” She gripped her purse, wringing the thin strap in her fists.
“I remember everything about you.” He reached out for her elbow, but she clamped it tight against her side.
“What’s there to mention? I’m an amateur powerlifter.” She shrugged. “Is that a problem?”
They’d reached the first floor, and Quentin turned to her as she descended the final step, her jaw set, eyes hooded.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I really like lifting big weights, and I don’t intend to stop anytime soon.” She dodged around him and continued toward the exit.
He paced alongside her. “No, I meant are you seriously asking if you being a weight lifter is a problem for me?”
“Powerlifter,” she corrected.
“My bad, powerlifter. But why would I mind?” She stayed silent this time, and he jogged a couple of steps ahead to hold open the door, but she pushed out the other side. Once they were both outside, he touched her wrist. “Of course your strength isn’t a problem for me. I can’t believe you’d think that it would be.”
Shedidturn toward him then, eyes shooting sparks. His words replayed in his mind, the shift in blame plain to see. “Not to put it on you. If you think that, I’m guessing it’s because some loser had an issue with the size of your biceps.” The idea was so ludicrous he had to stifle a laugh. “I think it’s really cool you lift weights. And anyone who would make you feel bad for your size isn’t worth your time.”
In the bright sunlight, the dips and curves of her body glowed. Her flowy orange-and-yellow sundress showed off her muscles in a way that had him dying to run his fingertips across the hollow of her back. And whenever the round curves of her shoulder bumped into his arm today, electricity had danced through his body. “Not that my opinion matters, but I think your shape is extremely sexy.”
The slow smile she gave him over her shoulder made him regret not saying something sooner. “Oh, it matters, Quentin.” She stopped walking and leaned back against the brass banister, ankles crossed. He slipped a hand around her hip, dropping a kiss on her perfect, soft lips. When he pulled away, she said, “But I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
“Mm-hmm, sure you weren’t.” He winked. She pushed against his chest, grinning, then lifted a hand to shade her eyes. The full expanse of Lake Michigan, edged by city skyline, spread out in front of them.
“I never get tired of this view,” said Alisha.
The sun had burned away the haze from earlier. Now there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the surface of the lake echoed the azure blue above.
“Me either.” But his eyes were fixed on her face. She rolled her own eyes and trotted down the first flight of stairs, her dress fluttering against her calves.
Quentin’s ringtone sounded, and he pulled out his phone to check the caller ID. “Hey, Ma, what’s up?” He slowed his pace, letting Alisha outdistance him while his mom explained the reason for her call. “Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do, but it’ll be a few hours.” He stopped next to Alisha on the sidewalk, and she frowned slightly, head tilted.
