I kick my shoes off and march back to my studio and quickly wrap the painting in plastic so it survives the ride home, then return to him.
“Thank you,” he says as he takes it from me. “I know just where I’ll hang it.”
“You’re welcome.”
He cups my cheek now, and I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. This is not professional, and I should back away.
But I can’t.
And he doesn’t kiss me.
At least, not on the lips.
He presses those sexy lips against my forehead, takes a deep breath, and then he’s gone and I’m left with raging lust.
Chapter Five
~Quinn~
“That was the best,” Gabby says on Saturday afternoon as we leave the early matinee of the newest Pixar film. I was at the office by six this morning to get some work done before picking my niece up for our date. “It was funny.”
“I liked it too,” I reply and kiss her dark head.
“We should go out to lunch now,” she says with a grin, and I pull her against my side for a hug. “I’m starving.”
“You just devoured a large popcorn, had a soda, and ate a box of peanut M&M’s by yourself.”
“So?” She bats her eyelashes at me, making me laugh.
“As much as I would love to, I can’t. I have to go to work. But we can pick up anything you want on our way to your house.”
“Okay,” she says with a shrug. “I want pastrami.”
Our favorite sandwich shop isn’t far, and before long we’re loaded down with sandwiches for Gabby and Carter, and more for Sienna and myself.
“Thanks for today, Uncle Quinn,” Gabby says as we get out of the car and I walk her to the door, carrying her food.
“Anytime, buttercup,” I reply as Carter opens the door. “We brought food.”
“Thanks, come on in. Did you have fun, Gabs?”
“Yeah,” she says. “But Uncle Quinn can’t stay.”
Carter’s eyes meet mine as I hand him the brown bag full of lunch.
“I have to go to work,” I say. “She was great. We had a good time.”
“Good. Thanks for taking her.”
“It’s always my pleasure. I’ll see you Monday.”
I hurry back to my car, looking forward to seeing Sienna today. I wasn’t able to make it over yesterday because work took longer than I anticipated, and I wanted to clear my calendar for this afternoon so I could spend time with Gabby and go help Sienna.
Not to mention, I wanted tomorrow off from the office as well. I need some time at the track, and I’m going to talk Sienna into going with me.
I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it out.
Traffic isn’t too horrible for a Saturday afternoon, and before long I’m in the Bronx, driving toward Louis Hendricks’s former home. Sienna’s already there.
I pull in behind her silver Ford, lock the car, and ring the doorbell.
Sienna opens the door, and I feel like my tongue is suddenly permanently stuck to the roof of my mouth.
Holy God almighty.
She’s not in her suit and sensible heels today.
Not even close.
Her hair, usually back in a sleek French twist, is pulled up in a messy bun with tendrils falling around her face and neck. She’s in a black tank top and cutoff shorts.
Her long legs are bare, as are her feet.
But the kicker? There’s not a speck of makeup on her and she’s wearing black-rimmed glasses, and I’m instantly turned on.
I swallow hard as she backs away from the door, already talking, but I haven’t heard a word she’s said because holy shit.
I knew I was attracted to her. I mean, look at her. She’s beautiful, and she’s smart. Her uptight suits amuse me, and she may be the only woman on the planet who can pull them off.
But now? Now she’s dressed like that and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll never be able to keep my hands off her. I have two choices. I can leave now, no harm no foul, and we both conduct our own investigations.
Or I can stay with the understanding that this isn’t going to remain strictly professional for long. At least, not for me.
If she says no, well, she says no.
But damn, I hope she doesn’t say no.
“Quinn?”
“Hmm?”
She frowns. “Aren’t you coming inside?”
Jesus, I’m still standing in the doorway, watching her like a stupid teenager who’s just got his first hard-on.
“Right.” I step inside and shut the door, then turn back to find her eyes roaming up my body. I can’t help but grin.
She clears her throat. “I’m, um, not used to seeing you in civilian clothes.”
“Back at you,” I mutter, walking to the other side of the table, and taking in the scene before me. “I brought lunch. How’s it going?”
“First of all, how did you know these are my favorite sandwiches?”
“Psychic,” I reply with a satisfied grin. She just rolls her eyes. She’s not impressed by my usual charms, and I’ll be damned if that isn’t as sexy as the glasses perched on her adorable little nose.
“Second,” she continues, “why did my great-grandfather save three years’ worth of newspapers? And for the love of God, why did everyone else hang on to them after him? I had to open every single one, just to make sure that nothing important was tucked inside.”
“Maybe he was saving them for a project. Or to build fires? Put on the floor when he was painting?”
She props her hand on her hip and tilts her head to the side. A strand of hair falls over her face, and she blows it out of the way.
I sit before she can see the bulge in my cargo shorts.
“Were you at the office this morning?” she asks as I open a box to get started sifting through papers.
“For a while, and then I had a movie date.”
She stills, and I glance up to see her cheeks flush. She stiffens and raises her chin.
God, she’s beautiful.
“You didn’t have to cut a date short to come here, Quinn. I’m perfectly capable of—”
“With my niece.”
Her shoulders sag, but she keeps that poker face in place. I can’t help but reach over to brush my fingers over her wrist.
“I wanted to come here today. I’m sorry I couldn’t come last night. I was clearing my schedule for this afternoon and tomorrow.”
“Oh? Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to the racetrack,” I reply and watch as her eyes widen. She bites her lip, then reaches into her box for more paper.
“That’ll be fun.”
“You should go with me.”
She frowns and looks up at me. “Why in the world would I do that?”
“Because it’s fun.”
She laughs. “Driving fast in a circle isn’t fun. Besides I get carsick.”
“Bullshit.”
She sets her paper down and tilts her head, blowing that strand of hair out of her face again.
“No, I really do get carsick. I’m not a good passenger.”
“You’ll drive your own car.”
“I have to work, Quinn.”
“It’ll only be half of the day. We’ll be out of there by noon, and back here combing through receipts from 1944 by two.”
Her lips twitch, and I know she wants to say yes. I reach over and tuck that piece of silky hair behind her ear.
“Say yes.”
“I shouldn’t.”
I grin, knowing that I’ve won this fight.
“Okay, fine, I’ll go with you. But we have to come back here to work after. That’s the deal.”
“I can live with that.”
She narrows her eyes on me and then goes back to looking at the papers. Suddenly, she drops everything and stands, staring at the sheet in her hand.
“Quinn, I’ve found something.”
“Excellent.”
I hurry around the table t
o read over her shoulder, and immediately call myself a fool. She smells too fucking good to be this close to her.
“Look.” She holds it up so I can read it.
June 1, 1914
This is a receipt, showing that Lawrence Hendricks has repaid $5,000.00 of the $20,000.00 owed to Reginald House.
Reginald House
Lawrence Hendricks
“It’s handwritten again,” she says.
“I guess we just proved that the letter in my client’s possession is authentic.”
She takes a deep breath and rubs her lips together, then nods twice.
“I agree. But this also proves that my great-grandfather was paying it back. There have to be more written receipts.”
She’s most likely right. Sienna pulls a folder out of her briefcase and sets the receipt inside, then slips the folder back where she found it.
“High five,” she says, holding her hand up for mine. I happily oblige, then pull her hand to my lips so I can kiss her knuckle and chuckle when she raises her brows, her ice-blue eyes cooling even more.
“Congratulations, Counselor.”
“Thanks.” Her voice is firm, but I see her swallow hard. “Do you kiss the hands of all your colleagues?”
“No.” I let her go when she pulls away. “No, it seems it’s just a certain sexy redhead that I can’t seem to stop thinking about. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t do it again.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m uncomfortable,” she says primly and resumes digging. Rather than sit across from her, I pull up a seat next to her, and we spend the next hour combing through without finding anything else of significance.
“It’s so odd that no one ever filed all those things together,” she mutters. “I mean, my family isn’t known for being unorganized. Except for Lou, she’s as unorganized as they come.”
“She sounds like the opposite of you.”
“Oh, she is,” she agrees with a smile. “We drive each other nuts, but we’re best friends too.”
“Have you talked since your fight?” I ask.
“No.” She finishes her sandwich and takes her wrapper to the kitchen to toss it away, then pulls two bottles of water out of the fridge and brings me one. “I’ll talk to her. We don’t stay mad for long.”
She sits back down and then sighs when she uncovers the next paper.
“Oh, Gramps.” It’s a whisper.
“What is it?”
“This is my grandparents’ marriage certificate,” she says, brushing her fingertips over their names. “I knew I’d come across things like this; I just wasn’t expecting it to punch me in the heart. They were married for more than fifty years when she passed away.”
“That’s a long time.”
“And they adored each other. He died less than a year after her, and I’m pretty sure he just didn’t have it in him to live without her.”
She wipes a tear from her cheek and tucks the marriage license in its folder, setting it aside in a pile she’s started for important documents.
“I’m sorry, Sienna,” I say and cover her hand with mine.
“Grief is a sneaky bitch,” she mutters, and I pull her into my arms, hugging her tightly.
“You’re not wrong about that.” I kiss her forehead and breathe her in, just as she pulls away and wipes the last tear from her cheek.
“Sorry about that. It wasn’t exactly professional.”
“Neither are short-shorts and bare feet, but that’s not stopping us.”
She whips her gaze to mine in surprise, then dissolves into laughter. “I’m not at the office, and I didn’t know for sure if you’d show. I wanted to be comfortable.”
“I’m not complaining.” I tuck that stray hair behind her ear again. “And when I say I’ll show, I’ll show. Last night wasn’t planned.”
“At least you texted to let me know you couldn’t make it,” she says with a shrug. “I didn’t mind eating your tacos.”
“Wait. You had tacos?”
“Yeah, I made them and everything. Brought them here. They were delicious.”
“I’m sorry, Sienna.”
“Like I said, not a hardship to eat your share.”
“Can we have tacos tomorrow?”
She grins. “If you beat me on the track, I’ll make you tacos.”
“Tacos it is then.”
“But if I beat you—”
I scoff, and she raises a brow.
“If I beat you, we have pizza.”
“You’re not going to beat me, sweetheart.”
“Don’t bet your law practice on it.”
“You’ve raced before,” I say for the eleventh time the following afternoon as I take a bite of my pepperoni pizza.
“Nope.” She smiles smugly and takes a bite of her own slice. “I’ve never driven that fast. I honestly didn’t think I had it in me.”
“Well, you clearly do.” My voice is dry, and I can’t take my eyes off her. That messy bun is back today, a red tee, and cropped jeans. We’re sitting at her grandfather’s table, the pizza set in the middle, and I’m still buzzing with adrenaline.
I want to pull her in my lap and fuck her until we’re both blind.
Instead, I take another bite of pizza.
“I think this is the first and last race for me,” she admits. “It was exhilarating, and I understand why you love it, but I’m not a thrill seeker, Quinn.”
“You were excellent. Why wouldn’t you want to do it again?”
“Like I said, I’m not a thrill seeker. Not an adrenaline junkie. I was scared shitless.”
“But you still drove like a pro and you beat me. That doesn’t happen every day.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a little competitive. And I was really hungry for pizza.”
I stare at her. “All this was for a pizza?”
She giggles. “And bragging rights. I outraced you today, and no one can ever take that away from me. Plus, I drove a Porsche and that’s my dream car.”
Her eyes widen and she stuffs more pizza in her mouth, as if she didn’t mean to say that.
“It is?”
She just shrugs.
“Why didn’t you say something when you were riding in my car?”
She shrugs that shoulder again, chewing. “It’s silly.”
“No, it isn’t.” I make a mental note to let her drive my car. “You’re a good driver.”
“I’m an excellent driver,” she says with a happy smile. “And I’m okay with driving the speed limit and staying safe. Really. I’m the responsible one, remember?”
My phone pings with a text.
“This is London,” I murmur.
Hey! Your tickets are all set for Friday night. I got two for you, so bring a date!
“Who’s in London?” she asks, licking sauce off her finger, and sending my already revved libido into overdrive.
“No one, London is the name of Finn’s soon-to-be fiancée. He’s going to propose next weekend.”
“That’s sweet.”
“You might have heard of her. London Watson?”
“The actress?”
“That’s her.” I nod and tuck my phone away. “She’s backing a new show that opens on Friday night, and she was just letting me know that my seats are saved.”
My eyes narrow, an idea forming.
“Sienna, what are you doing Friday night?”
“Working.” She pops the last of her crust in her mouth and carries her paper plate to the recycle bin, then washes her hands.
“Come with me, to the show.”
She shakes her head. “Why me? Don’t you have a harem of women just waiting for you to call?”
My lips twitch. “No. Besides, you’re the only woman I’ve been spending any significant time with, and I’d like to take you.”
“I can’t keep taking time away from this case,” she begins and walks around the table, away from me. “We went racing today, and that was fun, but you said yourself that these thirty d
ays will go faster than we think, and I need to focus.”
“Taking one evening to go to a Broadway show isn’t going to kill this case,” I counter. “Look at us.”
I sweep my arms out, gesturing at the stacks of boxes and files.
“We’re buried. I can barely see the top of your head half the time. Sienna, by Friday evening, we’ll need some fresh air and a little downtime away from the paper matrix.”
She smirks, and I can tell that she is considering it. Then, the smile is gone and she looks at me with serious blue eyes.
“What are we doing here, Quinn?”
“Arguing,” I reply, making her laugh and shake her head.
“No. We’re supposed to be keeping this professional. We have a job to do, and that’s it. I don’t want to jeopardize this case, it’s too important.”
“That’s not what we’re doing.” I stand and walk around the table to her, take her hands in mine, and rest them against my chest. “The case is moving along, and it’s safe. We both have the best interest of the case in mind. But Sienna, can you honestly say that you don’t feel anything when we’re together?”
Her eyes are on my lips. Her mouth opens, then closes, as if she can’t get the words in her brain to form.
“I feel it,” she whispers finally. “And I’m fighting it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not a good idea.” She licks her lips. “Because you’re opposing counsel, and I won’t be the latest woman that you play with. We hadn’t met before, but that doesn’t mean that your reputation didn’t precede you.”
“Rumors aren’t truth.”
“Are you denying that you’re a player?”
I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. “I’ve enjoyed women. I admit that. But—”
“If you say I’m different from the rest, I’ll knee you in the balls.”
“I don’t think I can win in this situation.”
“Tell me this: Would you still ask me to go to the show with you if the chemistry wasn’t here?”
“Of course not, and that’s not because I’m an asshole. Which I can be. I won’t apologize for being attracted to you, Sienna, and I won’t make excuses for why I want to see you. Do I want to get you naked? More than I want to breathe.”
She gasps, but I keep talking.
All It Takes Page 5
