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Quinn chewed this over for a moment. I expected questions and arguments about the morality of it, but all he said was “Fuck. So Vince knows for sure that Tommy has the Horn? Now we’re in a race to find it?”

I appreciated his use of the word “we” more than he knew.

“Not exactly. If Vince knew for sure, he’d get a warrant, and that would be that. He must not have enough proof to get one.”

Which was kind of weird when I thought about it, because he knew a fuck of a lot about the situation. How was he unable to prove any of it? I couldn’t care too much, though, because that very much worked in my favor.

“But Vince isn’t the only person looking for the Horn,” I continued solemnly. “I’m concerned that if Vince put the pieces together, other concerned parties might have too.”

Quinn was quick on the uptake. “You think the drug cartel knows Tommy has the Horn?” he gasped. “We need to warn them. Marissa is—”

“Marissa is fine. She’s got a bodyguard,” I reminded him. “And Tommy’s homes are secure. But there was an attempted break-in at the Nashville place yesterday. It could be a coincidence—”

“But you don’t think it was.”

“No. My gut tells me it’s connected.”

He burrowed deeper into my arms. “I know this probably sounds naive, but… why doesn’t Vince just ask to see it? Explain the situation about the data he doesn’t know is hidden on the device, and maybe Tommy will just hand it over. For that matter, why don’t you do that?”

His innocence made me want to laugh but also kiss him breathless. It was a stark reminder he didn’t live in the same world I did.

“First off, Tommy’s not the trusting type. Long before his Speedo commercial days, he made his first stake running chop shops and other small-time stuff. He thinks like a criminal, and he’s savvy like a criminal. That’s why, once he knew the DEA was sniffing around for the Horn, he sent Levi here to the Thicket to hide it at the farm. Once they get their hands on it, it’ll become evidence, and there’s no way Tommy will get it back. Furthermore, if Tommy admits to owning one stolen item, you’d better believe Vince will get a warrant to search the rest of Tommy’s properties faster than you can say probable cause. Since I’m willing to bet big money the Horn isn’t the only thing of, ah… questionable provenance… in Tommy’s possession, that would be a very big problem.”

“Right,” Quinn sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And as for me telling him… well, Tommy doesn’t have any reason to trust me. Not to mention, I have a tiny concern that if I told Tommy what was on the Horn, he might simply decide to sell it back to the cartel or to someone else and turn a profit.”

“He wouldn’t,” Quinn said firmly, leaning up slightly.

I shook my head. “You don’t know that. You don’t think like a criminal—”

“No, I think like a wedding planner. I’ve seen the way he looks at his daughter. She’s his whole world. He’d never put Marissa in jeopardy to turn a profit. Trust me. I’m good at reading people.”

“And if you were wrong and that information got into the wrong hands? You willing to take that chance?”

Quinn hesitated, sighed, and fell back onto the pillow. “Maybe not. Okay, so what are you going to do?”

“The idea is for me to find the Horn and get my tech guy on the case. Huxley is the best in the business. He’ll get the information off the device, then turn the information—without the Horn—over to the government either anonymously or in a way that gives us some leverage or protection. Tommy will be left with a perfectly safe, very rare Horn, and once all the players know the government has the information, nobody will bother Tommy again, and our client will be kept out of it.”

Quinn wasn’t stupid, and sure enough, he narrowed his eyes at me. “That’s if it all goes right. If you get caught…?”

“If I get caught, it’s not much worse than if Vince gets his hands on the Horn. Possible legal consequences. Devastating consequences for Champion Security. Either way, Quinn, you knew nothing about any of this. No blowback on you,” I said sincerely.

“I don’t like it,” he whispered.

I couldn’t resist reaching out to run my fingers through his messy, damp hair. “I know. It’s not ideal. But I’m good at what I do, and I trust the men under me.” I rolled slightly until I was on top of him, then kissed him, pressing him down into the bed until we were both breathless.

When I pulled back, Quinn rolled his eyes… even as his hand lightly grasped my hardening dick. “I won’t be under you for long, what with the new revirgination plan.”

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