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Dad coughed. “You don’t have to answer that, love.”
“We’ll see.” Mrs. Quinn was a careful woman. I liked that about her. For my dad’s sake. He deserved someone he could trust.
“Hope we didn’t wake you, but I—”
“Was excited,” I finished for him.
Baker snickered. “Will you be at Sunday dinner, Mrs. Quinn?”
“I haven’t been invited yet.”
“I just did.”
“I’ll check my schedule.”
“At least something went right,”Baker said when we’d ended the call.
“I can’t take that from him. Not right now.”
She snuggled into me. “You did the right thing.”
“Don’t make me out as someone noble. I didn’t tell him mostly because I’m a coward.”
“Not from what I’ve seen.” She scraped her nails down my chest.
I shivered. “If you want to distract me, I’m game.” I skimmed my fingers up her spine.
“I’m trying to tell you I support you. Whatever you want to do,” she huffed as her hands drifted lower.
“I’m glad to hear that. Because right now, I want to make you come.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Baker
“The three year anniversary of a shooting spree that left twelve people—”
I switchedoff the TV and tossed the remote on the sofa.
“Not a fan of morning television?” Holt stared at me, coffee in hand.
“The day clogs my head with enough noise as it is.” The truth of that was startling, though I was getting better.
He handed me his mug and filled another. “You look pretty.”
“You can’t say that every day.”
“I can if it’s true.”
“I thought you were going to be late.” I perched against the island opposite him.
“Have time for lunch today?” He looked down. “Never mind. Where could we go that’s acceptable for me to look like this and you like that?”
“I’d love to,” I said, waiting for him to meet my gaze. “Can I text you? I have a meeting at ten and I’m not sure how long it will last.”
He gave me a sweet smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
“If you get hungry, don’t wait for me.”
