Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me all this, Vince,” I said honestly. “It’s none of my business.”
“Percy.” He laid a hand on my bicep imploringly. “I know things didn’t end well for us—”
I snorted. Understatement.
“—but you’re not my enemy. I want to help you. I came here to give you a chance to do the right thing. To work with me so we can get this information together. If you make an effort, that’ll go a long way toward convincing my bosses that you were innocent—”
I laughed out loud. “Oh, shit. You want me to do your job for you, don’t you? To use my connections so you can impress your bosses? Jesus.” With my thumb and forefinger, I grasped his shirt cuff, lifted his hand away from me, and towed him toward the door. “That is not gonna happen. You’re barking up the wrong tree. I—”
Shit.
Barking.
I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest as I realized why Quinn had asked if I was missing something.
Christ. He was going to kick my ass. That should probably not have made me feel as weirdly excited as it did, but then again, nothing about my relationsh—er, interactions—with Quinn had been as straightforward as I’d imagined.
What did it say about me that I enjoyed riling the man up nearly as much as I enjoyed kissing him?
What did it say that, as stressed as I was about finding the missing Horn, kissing him still felt like a priority?
Nothing good, that was for damn sure.
I stepped out on the porch after Vince and firmly shut the door. “I’ve gotta go. Good luck at Trinket Town,” I said, casually mentioning the thrift store least likely to have the Horn.
I got in the truck without waiting for a response and drove back toward town. I’d have to take Herc to the office, but he’d love it, and the team would be thrilled. On the short drive, I called Hux at the office.
Our resident hacker answered after the first ring. “Yeah, boss. What’s up?”
“I need you to get a team out to Thrifty Thicket ASAP. Talk to Trixie Peppers, who runs an electronics booth there. She’s the one with all kinds of tinfoil antennae around her stall, and you have to approach without a phone on you. Find out what she knows about a peach-colored first-gen Horn of Glory console. If she’s got it, get it from her at any cost. If not, find out what she did with it.”
I pulled into an open spot in front of Quinn’s shop and parked the truck.
“You think it’s a good lead?” Hux said.
“Unfortunately, yes,” I said tersely. “I’ll meet you at the office as soon as I can and explain everything, but the DEA is sniffing around, and there’s no time to lose.”
“The DEA as in…”
“Vince. Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
I disconnected, then hopped out and strode into Taffet Events, preparing myself to do verbal battle with a particular short and sassy wedding planner.
A battle that would not involve sex. Not this time, and not anymore.
It was bad enough that I’d already started thinking about him when he wasn’t around and finding excuses to show up at his door all the damn time. This morning, I’d actually started feeling shitty for reminding him once again that we were not in a relationship… even though I knew I was doing it for his own good.
Quinn said he wasn’t into relationships, but I couldn’t help feeling like we’d crash-landed ourselves in the middle of one anyway. The man knew every one of my erogenous zones and how to tease me until I lost control. He knew how I took my coffee and the kind of kibble my dog liked best. The other night we’d even talked about my hopes and dreams for Champion Security, for fuck’s sake.
It was only a matter of time until the expectations began… and, immediately after that, would come the disappointment and hurt feelings.
Quinn was a great guy, but Champion Security was my priority, especially now that Vince was sniffing around, trying to fuck things up.
So it was time to get my T-shirts back and say goodbye.
Quinn and Hercules weren’t in the front room, but I smelled fresh coffee coming from his office. I hung back in the hallway, not wanting to interrupt a client meeting if I didn’t have to… and that was when I overheard some asshole getting all up in Quinn’s business.
“Get off me,” Quinn said. “Marissa’s going to be here any minute…”
The fuck?
Ordinarily, this would have been where I turned around and walked right back out. If Quinn wanted to get it on with some other guy, that was… that was great.
Awesome. Perfect. Convenient.
But I heard Hercules barking a sharp warning. And then I heard Quinn grunting in struggle.
I didn’t know Quinn all that well. He was a one-night… or, fine, twenty-six-night stand. But what I did know was that Quinn didn’t do fear. He gave as good as he got, always. And no one was allowed to fuck that up.