All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“Hurry up,” I say as I rush out of his bedroom. “Oh, and I’m driving.”

I can hear him laughing as I grab us each a bottle of water, and my sunscreen from the bathroom, and before long we’re driving through Manhattan toward the harbor.

“So what are we doing?” he asks, watching me drive his car. I offered to drive my own, but he insisted on the Porsche, and I wasn’t about to argue.

I fucking love this car.

“It’s a surprise,” I say primly. “I can keep a secret when I need to.”

“Well, I’m excited.”

I glance over at him and have to catch my breath. God, what this man does to a black T-shirt and sunglasses is just ridiculous.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too good-looking?”

He snorts. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s true. I mean, you just rolled out of bed, threw on a simple outfit, and you look like that.”

“And how do I look?”

“Like sex on a stick.”

He laughs, a full-on belly laugh, and kisses my hand. “Ah, Sienna, you’re good for my ego.”

“Hey, I only speak the truth. It’s a bit intimidating.”

“You’re stunning,” he replies without pause. “You have nothing to be intimidated by.”

I pull into the parking lot of the Jet Ski place and cut the engine. “We’re here. We’re going to do some adrenaline junkie stuff today, just for you.”

He’s quiet for a second, and I look up at him.

“Are you okay?”

“This is pretty incredible,” he says quietly, then leans over the center console to kiss the ever-loving fuck out of me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

We listen to some instructions and are fitted with life preservers, and I pray with all my might that I don’t fall into that disgusting New York City water.

But I don’t say anything.

Before long, I’m slathered in sunscreen, we have our swimsuits on—thank God it’s hot today—and we’re ready to go.

“You can hold on to me,” Quinn says with a smile, but I shake my head.

“No way, I’m getting my own.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. I can drive this.”

His smile grows, and he offers me his fist to bump.

“Good girl, let’s go.”

And for the next hour, we play on the water, zooming back and forth and around each other, jumping off the wakes and having a blast.

“We have about thirty minutes left,” I inform him. We only have the skis for two hours.

“Let’s race out to the buoy,” he suggests, pointing about a mile out into the water.

“Ready set go,” I say fast and take off, laughing like a loon as I gun it, aimed for the buoy. But not thirty seconds later, Quinn passes me, smiling and waving at me. He beats me with enough time to stop and just watch me as I approach.

“You cheated, and I still won,” he says.

“I know. See? Cheaters never prosper.” I’m laughing as I take my hair down and give it a shake before sweeping it up again, catching all the strands that have shaken loose in the wind. I’m parked a few feet from Quinn, and he reaches over to pull me next to him, cups my cheek, and kisses me soundly.

“Don’t make me fall in this dirty water,” I say before I go in for kiss number two. When I pull back, we’re both breathing hard. I glance over at the Statue of Liberty and smile. “You know, I’ve never been.”

“You grew up here and have never been?” he asks, surprised.

“Nope. Let’s go.”

“I’ll race you back.”

“So we’re going to climb?” I ask, staring up at the tall statue. We haven’t gone inside yet.

“Of course,” Quinn says. “You want the full experience, don’t you?”

“Sure.” I shrug as we go inside and walk through the museum in the base of the statue. “This is really interesting. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before.”

“I can’t either,” he says. “We came with our school.”

I shrug a shoulder and look at a ledger of incoming immigrants from 1912. “The fascinating thing is, most of this stuff is from the time of the case we’re working now.”

He glances at me, then back at the ledger and the other artifacts around us.

“You’re right.”

“It’s been like working in a time capsule. You know, I think it was Matt who suggested that rather than throw away the stuff that doesn’t matter, like grocery receipts and such, that I should donate them to a museum. I wonder if that’s not such a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Quinn wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “It’s something you should definitely talk to your family about.”

I nod as we make our way to the steps that lead to the statue’s crown.

“Three hundred seventy-seven steps,” I read. “It says that only people in good physical condition should attempt this, so you go ahead.”