“The beach is the best. I haven’t been in years.”
“Oh, you guys should go stay in one of our places. You’re welcome anytime.”
“Thank you. Now, get to the good stuff.”
“Right.” She laughs and shifts in her chair. “So, a storm was rolling in, and I’m horribly afraid of storms. Like, my anxiety kicks up, and I’m a wreck. It’s been that way since I was a kid.
“Finn knows this, of course, and he’s great at calming me down. Usually, he just distracts me with his naked antics, and it works marvelously.”
“As it should.”
“I do like you,” she says with a laugh. “Anyway, we’d been at the house for a couple of hours, and it was late because the show went late, and it was chaotic. So, we’re lying in bed, and I can see the lightning, and I’m starting to get keyed up. Finn starts the whole naked antics thing—”
“Bless him.”
“And then he stops, and he’s, like, I was going to do this tomorrow on the beach, but I just can’t wait. And he asked me to marry him.”
“Well, that’s one way to distract you from the storm.”
“Right? I don’t think I’ll ever see a storm and not think of that moment. It was special.”
“What are you going to tell other people when they ask you how he proposed?”
“I can’t exactly say he asked me during naked antics,” she says, biting her lip. “I guess I’ll just say he asked me at the beach. It’s true.”
“Perfect.” I hold my glass up to clink against hers. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Now, let’s talk about you and Quinn.”
“There have been some naked antics,” I concede, making her snort.
“It looked like more than that at the opening,” she says. “I saw the way he looked at you.”
“And how is that?”
“Like you hung the moon and every star in the sky.”
“I like him,” I reply and shrug one shoulder. “We’re spending a lot of time together because of this case. I don’t know what will happen when it’s over.”
“Why?”
“He’ll go back to working eighty hours a week, of course.”
“Maybe he won’t. Finn has learned how to balance both.”
“I don’t know if Quinn wants that,” I reply thoughtfully. “He loves the thrill of his job.”
“And he can still have that,” she points out. “Don’t write him off so easily. Sometimes a person is willing to do more than they thought possible with the right motivation.”
“You never know,” I agree. “I’m not writing him off. I guess I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
“Nothing wrong with that either.”
“We found you.”
Finn and Quinn approach the table. Finn kisses London passionately, and I turn to Quinn with a smile, but I’m swept up as well, in a hot kiss that makes my toes curl in my fancy Louboutins.
“Well, hello there,” I say when he pulls away.
“Hi. I brought you these.” He passes me roses with white petals that turn to pink at the tips. “It’s my apology for being late.”
“You’re forgiven.” I bury my nose in them and breathe deeply. “They’ll look great in my studio.”
“Quinn told us that you’re an artist, Sienna,” Finn says after he and Quinn order beers. “I saw the painting hanging in his condo.”
“Did you paint that?” London asks with wide eyes.
“I did,” I confirm.
“It’s beautiful. Do you ever do custom work?”
“I haven’t before, but I don’t see why I couldn’t.”
“Oh, I’d love a painting of the beach house to hang in our Manhattan home,” she says, clapping her hands in excitement. “We don’t go there often enough. Could you work from photos?”
“Why don’t we go there?” Quinn asks, surprising me.
“Because we’re in the middle of a case?”
He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of his beer. “When the case is done, we could take a weekend and go.”
“You really should,” Finn says. “It’s beautiful there, and then you can see the house in person. You can even paint there, if you want.”
“I have a great sunroom,” London says, opening the photos on her phone and turns the screen to me, showing me an enclosed porch with a view of the water.
“That would be a great place to paint.”
“It’s settled then,” Quinn says and links his fingers with mine under the table. “We’ll get the case finished up, and then we’ll slip away for a few days.”
“Okay.” I nod, thinking it over. “I had to reschedule my vacation time for this case, I’m sure I can talk my boss into extending my sabbatical with vacation. I’ll take a week off work, and when we get back, I’ll finish your painting.”
“Do you want me to pay you in advance?” London asks, but I shake my head.
“Consider it an engagement present.”
London’s eyes fill with tears, and Quinn lifts my hand to his lips.
“I like her,” London says, dabbing at her eyes. “She’s a keeper.”
“I like her too,” Quinn replies, watching me with those brown eyes. “Thank you.”