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Authors: Rachel Gibson
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some inexplicable reason, none of that seemed to matter.
“Good night, Quinn,” she said and moved around to the other side of her car. She glanced across the roof of her BMW at his outline against the soft glow of the printer’s shop behind him. He was tall and dark and absolutely gorgeous. With one kiss, he’d turned the “curiosity thing” into a real date.
“I’ll get in touch with you about Monday.”
With her car separating them, her thoughts cleared a little, and she recalled her Monday night plans. She’d been given two tickets to a hockey game as a thank-you for speaking at a Writer’s League meeting. She’d been meaning to ask Adele to go with her, since Adele loved hockey as much as Lucy. “I forgot that I have tickets to the Steelheads for Monday night,” she said. It was a perfect excuse to get out of the date. Instead she asked, “Want to go to the game with me?”
“Dinner first?”
“Sure.” She’d had the perfect out, but she hadn’t taken it. She was going to see him again, and God help her if he ever touched more than the back of her head.
Chapter 5
Storyteller: Seeks Smooth Talker…
Monday morning, Quinn walked into the briefing room and shot the shit with a few guys from the crime lab. While they talked about old cases, his gaze took in the marker board. Lucy’s name was still at the top in bold red, and two lines were drawn to the second and third murder victims.
He grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat. He opened his notebook on the table in front of him to the notes he’d written about Lucy. Everything he had was circumstantial, but when put together, it painted a fairly damning picture. He ran a hand down his gold-and-blue-striped tie and wondered how long it would take before someone mentioned the kiss he’d put on Lucy the previous Friday night.
“You sure didn’t kiss Maureen like you kissed Lucy,” Kurt managed through a huge grin as he entered the room and sat next to Quinn.
“Jealous?” Quinn asked through a smile as he pulled back the cuff of his dress shirt to look at his watch. One minute after eight. Kurt had waited a whole minute. If anything, Quinn was surprised that Kurt hadn’t razzed him about it Saturday night when they’d met before his setup with Maureen.
“Not jealous. Impressed by how fast you work.”
“I had to convince Lucy she needed to see me again. Maureen didn’t need convincing.” He turned a page in his notes. If his date with Lucy had been a real one, he’d have used more finesse. He would have taken his time and asked for her phone number. If he’d had time, he would have charmed her into giving him what he wanted instead of grabbing her and kissing her into submission. When given a choice, Quinn always preferred to take his time, although he had to admit that grabbing her up and getting to it hadn’t been too bad. Not at all. In fact, it might have been a little too good.
“By the sound of Lucy’s moan, that was some convincing.”
“It’s a dirty job, Weber.” He hadn’t expected it to be so easy, either. He’d expected Lucy to pull back and slap him.
“But somebody’s gotta do it. Right?”
“Right.” Instead of slapping him, she’d done the unexpected and melted into his chest. Her response had surprised the hell out of him, and for a moment, as he’d tasted her mouth and felt the warm pull of desire, he’d forgotten who she was and exactly why he’d been standing there kissing her on a downtown street. For a few moments, she’d been just a beautiful woman and he’d been just a man. He’d let the heat of her response go straight to his head, and lower. For a few moments he’d forgotten that he’d just been doing his job.
“I don’t blame you for not wanting to tongue tangle with bignsassy,” Kurt said, pulling Quinn’s thoughts away from kissing Lucy. “After listening to the most recent tape, I’m convinced you’re right. She’s as dumb as a doorknob. I don’t understand how the
“Good night, Quinn,” she said and moved around to the other side of her car. She glanced across the roof of her BMW at his outline against the soft glow of the printer’s shop behind him. He was tall and dark and absolutely gorgeous. With one kiss, he’d turned the “curiosity thing” into a real date.
“I’ll get in touch with you about Monday.”
With her car separating them, her thoughts cleared a little, and she recalled her Monday night plans. She’d been given two tickets to a hockey game as a thank-you for speaking at a Writer’s League meeting. She’d been meaning to ask Adele to go with her, since Adele loved hockey as much as Lucy. “I forgot that I have tickets to the Steelheads for Monday night,” she said. It was a perfect excuse to get out of the date. Instead she asked, “Want to go to the game with me?”
“Dinner first?”
“Sure.” She’d had the perfect out, but she hadn’t taken it. She was going to see him again, and God help her if he ever touched more than the back of her head.
Chapter 5
Storyteller: Seeks Smooth Talker…
Monday morning, Quinn walked into the briefing room and shot the shit with a few guys from the crime lab. While they talked about old cases, his gaze took in the marker board. Lucy’s name was still at the top in bold red, and two lines were drawn to the second and third murder victims.
He grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat. He opened his notebook on the table in front of him to the notes he’d written about Lucy. Everything he had was circumstantial, but when put together, it painted a fairly damning picture. He ran a hand down his gold-and-blue-striped tie and wondered how long it would take before someone mentioned the kiss he’d put on Lucy the previous Friday night.
“You sure didn’t kiss Maureen like you kissed Lucy,” Kurt managed through a huge grin as he entered the room and sat next to Quinn.
“Jealous?” Quinn asked through a smile as he pulled back the cuff of his dress shirt to look at his watch. One minute after eight. Kurt had waited a whole minute. If anything, Quinn was surprised that Kurt hadn’t razzed him about it Saturday night when they’d met before his setup with Maureen.
“Not jealous. Impressed by how fast you work.”
“I had to convince Lucy she needed to see me again. Maureen didn’t need convincing.” He turned a page in his notes. If his date with Lucy had been a real one, he’d have used more finesse. He would have taken his time and asked for her phone number. If he’d had time, he would have charmed her into giving him what he wanted instead of grabbing her and kissing her into submission. When given a choice, Quinn always preferred to take his time, although he had to admit that grabbing her up and getting to it hadn’t been too bad. Not at all. In fact, it might have been a little too good.
“By the sound of Lucy’s moan, that was some convincing.”
“It’s a dirty job, Weber.” He hadn’t expected it to be so easy, either. He’d expected Lucy to pull back and slap him.
“But somebody’s gotta do it. Right?”
“Right.” Instead of slapping him, she’d done the unexpected and melted into his chest. Her response had surprised the hell out of him, and for a moment, as he’d tasted her mouth and felt the warm pull of desire, he’d forgotten who she was and exactly why he’d been standing there kissing her on a downtown street. For a few moments, she’d been just a beautiful woman and he’d been just a man. He’d let the heat of her response go straight to his head, and lower. For a few moments he’d forgotten that he’d just been doing his job.
“I don’t blame you for not wanting to tongue tangle with bignsassy,” Kurt said, pulling Quinn’s thoughts away from kissing Lucy. “After listening to the most recent tape, I’m convinced you’re right. She’s as dumb as a doorknob. I don’t understand how the
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