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He sat across from Shane, who watched him quietly. His heart squeezed when he took in the circles under his eyes and the wild disarray of his curly, black hair. Apparently, he’d had quite the night with his…friends.
Quinn wasn’t sure he could swallow any of the food without throwing it back up, but he forced himself to take a bite and keep his expression as blank as he could.
We never made any promises. We never made any promises.
“Shane, you look like shit.”
Shane curled his lip at Hollis. “Everybody has a rough night now and then.”
“Is it the case? Because I can help with it.” Hollis, like Quinn, didn’t spend a lot of time on his wardrobe, preferring jeans and T-shirts. His leather jacket creaked as he reached into the box and snagged another chocolate-filled pastry.
Shane’s frown and rolled eyes screamed exasperation. “I already told you that I can’t tell you about this one.”
“But you can tell him?” Hollis pointed at Quinn. “No offense, Quinn. I don’t have a problem with you, but I can’t shake this gut feeling that whatever you guys are working on is dangerous.”
“How could you think that when I’ve told you nothing about it?” Shane lifted an eyebrow.
“Because it’s taking a toll on you. It’s all over your face.” Hollis threw a crumpled-up napkin at him. “You look like someone rode you hard and put you away wet.”
Quinn choked on his pastry, coughing so hard, Ethan pounded on his back. “I’m okay,” he squeaked with a smile of thanks to Shane’s business partner, a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a solemn face. Holy fuck—the images that went through his mind with Hollis’s words probably burned permanent places. He had to bite his tongue before he blurted out that hot threesomes would make anyone look that wiped out. He looked up to find Shane watching him closely, his mouth turned down.
“Here, have some of my coffee,” Shane said, passing his cup to Quinn.
“Thanks,” Quinn murmured, offering a smile to both Ethan for the back pounding and Shane.
“It’s his cop instincts,” Ian chimed in suddenly, watching Quinn sip from Shane’s cup before he looked back at Shane. “They’re annoying as hell. He’s like a dog with a bone sometimes, locking his teeth and never letting go.”
Hollis opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as a slow grin pulled up one corner of his lips.
Ian shook his head. “I have instincts where you’re concerned, too, and you just about said something about bones, didn’t you?”
“It was the ‘teeth’ part I particularly enjoyed. Can’t get anything past you,” he murmured, his arm shooting out to roll Ian’s chair closer. Quinn was surprised when he wrapped a hand around Ian’s scarf and tugged him in for a kiss, his mouth landing on Ian’s smile. Ian’s quick caress of his cheek made something deep in Quinn clench.
Quinn couldn’t imagine feeling that comfortable in a relationship, being that demonstrative around other people. He glanced at Shane again to find the older man had leaned over the table, crossing his arms, tilting his head, brown eyes doing that annoying probing thing he did. Quinn hoped his smile didn’t scream “Fuck you and your hard-riding threesome!” as he passed his coffee back.
Shane pushed away from the table and stood. “Hollis, you can keep digging all you want, but this time, it’s not going to work. If I decide to bring you in, I will. Come on, Quinn. I do have some things to show you.”
Quinn followed Shane into his office and did a double take in the doorway. Haphazard stacks of papers battled for space on Shane’s desk with Chinese food boxes and sweet tea bottles. The scent of moo shu pork and sweet and sour chicken permeated the air like it was a second-floor office over a Chinese restaurant.
“Sorry about the smell. I fell asleep at my desk and knocked food onto the carpet. I’ll have to get it cleaned.” He walked around the desk and picked up a stack of papers. “I spent the night reading emails. When my eyes started watering from staring at a lit screen, I printed them out. I don’t think the hacker is after these.”
He’d spent the night there? Again, Quinn had to bite his tongue because he was dying to ask what time Shane had arrived. “What do you mean?” he asked instead.
“I started digging into the death of his wife.” Shane dropped the papers and sat heavily in his chair, making it creak. He scrubbed his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes. “Quinn, shut the door, will you?”
Unease raised the hair on the back of his neck as he did as asked. “Tell me.”
“I’m starting to wonder if her death was an accident.”
His stomach dropped to his feet—just as it had during the night when the thought had occurred to him as well. He stayed quiet so he could hear Shane’s thoughts without interruption.
