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I laughed again, long and loud, and my laughter shut him right down.
“I’m very okay with moving in here,” I said, letting my eyes wander. “And yes, I think we should get my things as soon as possible. Tonight, even.”
I stood up despite my protesting feet, and set my hands on my hips.
“But the three of you are out of your minds if you think I’m not coming with you.”
Thirteen
COLE
“So… exactly how much do you know about me?”
The truck devoured the nighttime road, rolling smoothly along the highway. It hadn’t taken long for her to start asking questions. When she chose to ride with me instead of the others, I knew this was coming. And that’s because she knew I’d give her answers instead of bullshit platitudes.
“You want everything?”
Quinn continued gazing blankly through the passenger window, into the darkness. “Sure. Why not?”
She was adjusting fairly well to a fucked up situation, I’d give her that. There’d been no hysterics, no cries of protest. So far she’d rolled with the punches and taken everything on the chin. A few questions about things was more than reasonable.
“You’re Quinn Ann Logan, age twenty-six,” I answered flatly. “You grew up in Queens, New York, along with five siblings, all older. Your mother was an ER nurse at Mt. Sinai hospital, and your father was an executive chef for too many restaurants to even count.”
The windows were halfway down, and with the summer air blowing her hair left and right, bouncing it against her pretty face, it made her look like some sexy blonde Medusa. And shewassexy. There was zero doubt about that. For the past several weeks we’d tried ignoring that irrelevant little fact, but now that she was here, sitting beside me…
“So far so good,” she prompted me. “Keep going.”
The others had taken her out on actual dates, even if they weren’t dates at all. I don’t know how they handled it. The temptation, I mean. I sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to.
“You took after your father, apparently. Moved to Boston a few years ago to take a sous chef job at some fancy steakhouse. The restaurant went under not too long afterward. You stayed in town, though.”
Her eyes were still averted, staring off into the night. Probably wondering where her life took such a crazy turn, that she ended up pregnant in the front seat of a stranger’s truck.
“How am I doing so far?”
Quinn shrugged. “Better than average.”
I smiled inwardly. “Our intel is alotmore than better than average.”
“We’ll see,” she sighed wearily. Her voice, her look, even her mannerisms were sexy. “So what happened next?”
“You started working odd jobs,” I continued. “Lots of them, from what we could gather. Maybe you were just determined to stay in Boston. Hellbent on not having to return to New York.”
The subtle way she shifted in her seat told me I’d probably hit on something. Hell, I didn’t know all her secrets. Some people ran from things, while others ran toward them. Either way, it was obvious she was done with New York.
“You definitely love what you do,” I finished. “You work at a restaurant, you teach cooking classes. You even put in part-time shifts at that specialty grocer, near your apartment. I’m not sure how you learned about the surrogacy program, or what even inspired you to join, but—”
“I need the money.”
I drove on wordlessly, letting the words hang for a few moments in the silent cab. Eventually, she went on.
“I’m saving for something,” she added, tiptoeing around whatever she was trying to say. After I still didn’t answer, she sighed and relented. “Okay, I’m looking to eventually open a food truck.”
My expression couldn’t hide my surprise. “A food truck?”
“Yes,” she said, if not a bit defensively. “Everyone loves a food truck.”
“True.”
