Page 43 of The Devil's Reward
He snorts. “You’re not doing this for me, no matter how much you try and tell yourself that. You want the sweet social worker, and you need to get past your memories of Sam. Two birds, one stone.”
I huff. “Whatever.”
When we reach the bikes, I pull my phone out and see a missed text from Quinn. I pause and wonder if she’s pulling out of our date. If she is, I should probably take it as a sign, but I don’t miss the way my stomach tightens as I open it.
Quinn: Do you deal in security systems?
Huh, not what I was expecting. I type back a quick reply, noting that it hasn’t been long since she sent it.
Me: Yes, but why do you need one? Are you in trouble?
My heart speeds up a bit at the thought of someone in her home, terrorizing her. My hand tightens on my phone as I wait for her answer. Thankfully she doesn’t take long.
Quinn: Nothing like that. My neighbor down the road was robbed, and I got to thinking that I don’t have anything here to alert me if someone has been in my house. I was wondering if you could give me an estimated cost?
I relax. Alright, this I can work with.
Me: I’ll be over shortly. Text me your address and I’ll have a look.
Quinn: Oh I didn’t mean tonight!
Me: Quinn, if you had a burglary in your neighborhood, there’s a good chance that it could happen again and it’s best not to let something like this wait. I need to see the house before I can give you a quote anyway.
It’s a bit of a stretch, but I’ll take it. The urge to keep her safe has reared its head and I’m not going to ignore it. Viper glances over at me curiously, sitting on his bike and waiting for me.
Quinn: Alright. Thank you.
She texts me her address and I put the phone away. I look at Viper. “You head on back to the clubhouse. I need to make a stop and then I’ll be on my way.”
He arches a brow. “A stop this late at night?” he asks dubiously.
“Quinn needs an estimate on a security system,” I tell him.
He snorts. “Is that what we’re calling it now?” he jokes.
I glare at him. “Her neighbor was just robbed,” I explain tightly. “And she’s concerned. Wanted to know if we did them and if she can get an estimate.”
He sobers. “Shit. Alright. You need me to come with you?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll figure out what I can and then I’ll head back to the clubhouse. Let me know what Bullet says.”
He nods. “Alright. Let me know if you need help.” I nod as we start our bikes and head in different directions.
The drive to Quinn’s house is a bit longer, but I’m pleased to see that she lives in a good neighborhood, even if the burglary did happen. Most times intruders are known to the homeowner, but there are always exceptions. I find her house easily enough, recognizing her car and pulling in behind it. I look up at the house, a quaint cottage-style home, and I can instantly see the pride and work she’s put into it.
The shutters are freshly painted a serene blue, the flowerbeds are full of bright blooms, and the front porch clean and maintained. She doesn’t have a garage, which is both a benefit and a bit of a concern. I climb off my bike and head up to the front door. I knock briskly and wait for her to answer, my stomach knots in both anticipation and unease.
When she opens the door, I’m once again struck by the similarities to Sam, but the soft, shy smile is all Quinn. She’s wearing a pair of yoga pants and a simple gray t-shirt with a book on the front, and her feet are bare. Her coppery tresses are down, and her face is bare of any make-up.
She’s utterly breathtaking, and I have to force myself to smile at her and act normal instead of hauling her against me and devouring those pretty pink lips. “Hi, Shadow,” she says shyly, stepping back and letting me inside. “I’m really sorry you had to come all this way tonight.”
“It’s no problem,” I assure her. “I wasn’t busy.”Liar,my mind taunts me, but I ignore it. I glance around the open living room/kitchen combination. It’s modest and in need of some updating, but I like it. It’s cozy, and I see some toys lying around that remind me immediately of Macy. “Is the little con artist in bed?” I ask Quinn curiously.
She shakes her head. “She has a field trip tomorrow, so she’s spending the night at her friend’s house because her mom is going to be chaperoning. Easier to get her there.”
I nod, remembering that she told me earlier, though my mind is already focusing on the fact that we’re alone in this house. Fuck, I don’t need to know that. She’s far too tempting as it is, and I need to keep this strictly professional. “Are you looking for a basic system or something more involved?” I ask her. I take in the windows in the room, and the back door in the kitchen. All points of entry. There is a small hallway off the kitchen with two doors, and a set of steps in the center of the back wall leading upstairs.
“Um, well, I don’t know,” Quinn answers with an awkward shrug. “Up until now, I’ve never thought about it.” She glances around the room again, her eyes never meeting mine. “What do you think?”
