Read Online Knock Me Off My Feet by Susan Donovan - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Donovan
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own ice cream before it liquefied in the heat. "What I wanted wasn't part of the equation. Never really was," she said, munching her cone.
Before she realized what was happening, Quinn leaned forward and licked softly at her forearm, removing a wayward pearl of melting ice cream from the fine hairs there. Audie gasped.
"So what happened with the estate?" he asked nonchalantly, as if his warm tongue hadn't just raked over her skin.
Audie blinked, trying to recover her composure. "Uh, I got the apartment, the syndication contract, the office… " He was licking his lips and smiling at her, which was completely unfair. "… the Porsche, and half of everything my mother and father had accumulated. Drew got the house on
Sheridan Road
, the summer house in
Door
County
, the sailboat… " Quinn gently sucked on each of his fingers, never taking his eyes off hers. "… and the rest of the cash." She let out a breath when she finished.
"So how much has your brother managed to lose in the last year?"
Audie snorted. "A lot of it. I don't know how bad it is, really, but if you think he wants to do the column, you're way off base."
"OK. Why's that?"
It was her turn to grin. "I think that will become obvious when you go talk to him."
"Fair enough."
Audie lay back in the grass and Quinn propped himself up on his elbow to gaze down at her.
"How long do you plan on keeping this up? How much longer can you do this?"
His words were hushed now, and the rough, musical quality came back to his voice. She liked that sound very much, and her eyes automatically followed it, entranced.
"I'm not sure," she said. In the afternoon light, she could see the fine lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Those remarkable olive-and-gold eyes looked right through her. "I'm supposed to be signing a new contract within the month."
"And?"
"We really need to be heading back."
Quinn returned from the parking garage and came up behind her. She spun around to see that he had a garment bag slung over his shoulder and that he stood very close.
"I got two bathrooms," she said, a hint of challenge in her voice. "And forty-five minutes."
* * *
It was
ten till seven
, and Quinn waited patiently in Audie's living room, looking out the massive glass wall to the blue expanse of lake, the long stretch of city, and the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. It was so clear this evening that he could see the Indiana Dunes and the pale silhouette of the
Michigan
shoreline.
Quinn had been ready for a while now, but he could still hear Audie cussing and bumping into things at the other end of the huge apartment.
"Oh, crap! Hell!"
He smiled to himself again. So this was Homey Helen's abode. He wondered if the original Helen was flopping around in her grave like a mackerel.
It wasn't filthy. In fact, the guest bathroom was spotless, probably because it was never used. But the rest of the apartment was in a state of utter disarray.
Newspapers, magazines, books, and sweat socks were scattered on tables. A half-filled microwave popcorn bag had toppled over on the expensive Italian couch, leaving oily streaks on the leather. He'd seen how three soccer balls had rolled to a stop in odd places, like in front of the stove. He couldn't imagine the ball was in the way since the kitchen obviously wasn't used for much—there was nothing in the refrigerator but bottled water, a jar of jalapeño peppers, and what appeared to be some kind of shriveled moss-covered ball that may have once been a citrus fruit.
A thick layer of dust had accumulated on the screen of her high-definition television set. He knew this because he'd run his finger across it.
"Quinn!"
"Yep."
"Are you ready?"
"Yep. Have been."
"Do me a favor—do you see a pair of bone pumps out there somewhere?"
Bone pumps were either medical devices or women's shoes, Quinn thought. "You mean shoes?"
"Yes, shoes! Look in the dining room and toss them back here when you find them, would you please?"
Quinn
Before she realized what was happening, Quinn leaned forward and licked softly at her forearm, removing a wayward pearl of melting ice cream from the fine hairs there. Audie gasped.
"So what happened with the estate?" he asked nonchalantly, as if his warm tongue hadn't just raked over her skin.
Audie blinked, trying to recover her composure. "Uh, I got the apartment, the syndication contract, the office… " He was licking his lips and smiling at her, which was completely unfair. "… the Porsche, and half of everything my mother and father had accumulated. Drew got the house on
Sheridan Road
, the summer house in
Door
County
, the sailboat… " Quinn gently sucked on each of his fingers, never taking his eyes off hers. "… and the rest of the cash." She let out a breath when she finished.
"So how much has your brother managed to lose in the last year?"
Audie snorted. "A lot of it. I don't know how bad it is, really, but if you think he wants to do the column, you're way off base."
"OK. Why's that?"
It was her turn to grin. "I think that will become obvious when you go talk to him."
"Fair enough."
Audie lay back in the grass and Quinn propped himself up on his elbow to gaze down at her.
"How long do you plan on keeping this up? How much longer can you do this?"
His words were hushed now, and the rough, musical quality came back to his voice. She liked that sound very much, and her eyes automatically followed it, entranced.
"I'm not sure," she said. In the afternoon light, she could see the fine lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Those remarkable olive-and-gold eyes looked right through her. "I'm supposed to be signing a new contract within the month."
"And?"
"We really need to be heading back."
Quinn returned from the parking garage and came up behind her. She spun around to see that he had a garment bag slung over his shoulder and that he stood very close.
"I got two bathrooms," she said, a hint of challenge in her voice. "And forty-five minutes."
* * *
It was
ten till seven
, and Quinn waited patiently in Audie's living room, looking out the massive glass wall to the blue expanse of lake, the long stretch of city, and the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. It was so clear this evening that he could see the Indiana Dunes and the pale silhouette of the
Michigan
shoreline.
Quinn had been ready for a while now, but he could still hear Audie cussing and bumping into things at the other end of the huge apartment.
"Oh, crap! Hell!"
He smiled to himself again. So this was Homey Helen's abode. He wondered if the original Helen was flopping around in her grave like a mackerel.
It wasn't filthy. In fact, the guest bathroom was spotless, probably because it was never used. But the rest of the apartment was in a state of utter disarray.
Newspapers, magazines, books, and sweat socks were scattered on tables. A half-filled microwave popcorn bag had toppled over on the expensive Italian couch, leaving oily streaks on the leather. He'd seen how three soccer balls had rolled to a stop in odd places, like in front of the stove. He couldn't imagine the ball was in the way since the kitchen obviously wasn't used for much—there was nothing in the refrigerator but bottled water, a jar of jalapeño peppers, and what appeared to be some kind of shriveled moss-covered ball that may have once been a citrus fruit.
A thick layer of dust had accumulated on the screen of her high-definition television set. He knew this because he'd run his finger across it.
"Quinn!"
"Yep."
"Are you ready?"
"Yep. Have been."
"Do me a favor—do you see a pair of bone pumps out there somewhere?"
Bone pumps were either medical devices or women's shoes, Quinn thought. "You mean shoes?"
"Yes, shoes! Look in the dining room and toss them back here when you find them, would you please?"
Quinn
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