All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“It’s in my custody,” I reply, standing so I can pace the room. “And I’m going to be honest, I don’t appreciate you calling at this time of night to grill me about this. You know I would never do anything to harm Grandpa’s things, and I’m working on an open case on behalf of our family.”

“You’re right,” he says with a sigh. “I came here to sit for a while. I sometimes do that late at night when I can’t sleep. I miss him.”

“I miss him too, but Uncle Patrick, you crossed a line.”

“I disagree,” he replies, his voice hard again. “I’d appreciate an answer.”

“Like I said, it’s in my custody, and I’m working the case full-time, until it’s done. Everything will be returned when the case is over.”

Quinn begins to knead my shoulders from behind and I lean into his touch, immediately calming.

Uncle Patrick hangs up without saying good-bye, and I sigh, then lean back when Quinn wraps his arms around me, hugging me from behind.

“That was weird.”

“He’s angry?” Quinn asks.

“Yeah, I guess he went to Grandpa’s and is pissed that the boxes are gone. It’s so weird, it’s as if he doesn’t think I can handle this case. This isn’t the first time he’s called me out on something regarding it.”

“Maybe he’s worried,” Quinn suggests, but his voice doesn’t sound sure.

“I don’t know, he’s never questioned me before.”

“Hmm.”

I turn in his arms and frown up at him. “What?”

“I don’t know him well, but there’s just something about him that I don’t trust.”

“Don’t be silly.” I shake my head and pull away, gathering my files and briefcase. “Uncle Patrick is just going through some grief, or loneliness. Or maybe he’s worried that the park will be lost because of this. It’s been a staple of the neighborhood for a very long time, and it’s something that my family has always been proud of.”

“Maybe,” Quinn says with a thin smile.

“But you don’t think so.”

“Like I said, I don’t know him,” he replies and takes my hand to walk with me down to the car. “But I don’t like that he upset you.”

“I’ll be fine. Nothing that some sleep won’t fix.” I lean against him in the elevator, kiss his chest through his shirt. “It was a good idea to have me stay with you. It is easier.”

“I do have good ideas once in a while,” he says with a smile. “Do I need to carry you to the car?”

“No, I think I can walk.”

But I feel dead on my feet. The longer we go without finding our proof, the more exhausting it is.

I’m worried.

Before long, we’re in Quinn’s condo, and I’m sitting at the end of his long, gray sofa, my legs pulled up under me, with a steaming mug of tea in my hands.

I’m staring at the ocean painting I gave him.

It really does suit him and this space.

“You haven’t even changed,” Quinn says as he joins me, taking my mug out of my hands so he can take a sip. He’s in some gym shorts and nothing else.

God, that V at his hips is something to write home about.

“How do you find time to go to the gym?” I ask him.

“I usually go early in the morning before I go to the office,” he says and passes me back the mug. “But lately—”

“You’ve been with me.”

I sip the tea and feel guilt set up residence in my belly.

“I’ve taken up a lot of your time.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“I know.” I reach for his hand, threading our fingers. “But I feel bad. I’m taking time from your business and your life. I’ve even imposed in your condo for the immediate future.”

“What’s with this mood tonight, sweetheart?” He wraps one arm around my shoulders and tucks me against him, buries his lips and nose in my hair, and kisses me gently. “I told you before, I rarely do anything that I don’t want to. Besides, who needs the gym when I’m getting a regular workout with you?”

I chuckle and squeeze his fingers.

“True. I’m just saying, if it’s too much, just tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

Much.

Okay, it will.

“Being with you is never enough, Sienna. I love every minute. So stop thinking like this and enjoy your tea before I carry you to my bed to have my way with you.”

“That sounds promising.”

Chapter Thirteen

~Sienna~

“You didn’t sleep well,” Quinn says quietly. We’re in his car, driving into the office. We don’t always drive in, since his office and home are so close, but he said he has errands to run later. We just left Starbucks, and I’m sipping gratefully at my second cup this morning. “Was it my bed?”

“No, your bed is comfortable. It’s my brain.” I sigh, watching as the city is coming to life. It’s before seven, so rush hour hasn’t hit in full force quite yet, but there are plenty of people bustling about. “I can’t turn it off. I don’t know, Quinn, maybe I should go home. I know it’s easier to stay at your place, but I might be able to unwind better there.”