Page 82 of Mine

Phoebe giggled. “I’ve got the feeling being with you, there will be many of those.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

Phoebe laughed again. “I might have to set schedules for us. I can’t be off my game walking into the courtroom because my boyfriend rocked my world all night.”

“Schedules?” Quentin said. “Nah, we won’t be one of those couples. If anything, that all-nighter will put a spring in your step, girl.”

Phoebe giggled again.

“I’ll let you finish up. See you soon, sweetheart.”

“Okay.”

“I… love you,” he finished.

Phoebe’s heart rocked against her chest, and her entire body was covered with warm chills. Her eyes faltered and she responded, “I love you, too, Quentin.” They both remained quiet, taking in the severity of their confession before Phoebe ended the call.

So it had been true. Quentin hadn’t said it on a whim just for the sake of their coupling. He meant it. He really loved her. A smile stretched across her face that reached her eyes. Her body was buzzing with a euphoric warmth that she couldn’t contain. Phoebe inhaled a deep breath, completely astonished that she was in love with Quentin Davidson out loud and vice versa. If it was the last thing she did, she would leave this office and get to him. Fast.

Unfortunately, that blissful moment dispersed the minute an email hit her inbox. An emergency meeting had been called with the politician who’d been caught with his pants down, and all of the lead defense attorneys on the case were mandated to attend. Shit. Phoebe loved her career at Rose and Garnett, but she needed to balance the heavy workload and her growing love life. For her career to be fulfilling to her, she couldn’t let it take over her existence, or she would grow to hate it. Phoebe shot Quentin a quick text message apologizing for not being able to leave, then left her jacket, phone, and purse in her office when the meeting began in conference room C.

The text message from Phoebe had dashed the excitement Quentin had. He’d set up a full body massage, fruit, wine, cheese, and a light dinner. Now as he stood staring at the table of food he’d prepared, Quentin blew out a sigh and strolled to the refrigerator for an ice-cold Corona. He was halfway to the living room when the doorbell rang. It sounded through the house as whomever was on the other side was determined to get his attention. Quentin opened the door swiftly with a frown on his face.

“It’s so cold out here, please let me in,” Cindy said, practically running him over to get inside.”

“Well come on in,” he said dryly, closing the door behind her.

“It’s amazing how the temperature gets colder in January,” Cindy said shimmying as she walked down the hall into the kitchen.

Quentin followed her, taking another swig of his Corona. When Cindy saw the layout of food and the wine bottle that sat on ice, she turned back to him swiftly as he entered the kitchen.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No,” he said, taking another swig of his Corona. “Plans changed.”

“Hmm,” Cindy uttered. “Well, I don’t mean to barge in here on you, but my car broke down, and I can’t get it to my mechanic until tomorrow. Your house was closer, so I Ubered here.” She smiled softly.

“What,” he said, “I don’t pay you enough to pay for an Uber home?”

Cindy’s eyes roamed side to side. “Of course, I just thought I’d stop by, I haven’t heard from you since the new year besides our back and forth emails.” She paused. “How was your new year by the way?”

“One of the best so far.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “Oh, and that kiss, right?” Cindy nodded slowly as a smile spread across her lips. “How could anyone miss that kiss you shared with Phoebe at the game. That was something, huh?”

Quentin watched her carefully. “It was better than it appeared,” he said.

“It appeared as if you wanted to filet her for the world to see, how could it have possibly been better than that?”

A sexy grin trekked across his lips. “Trust me, it was better.”

Cindy’s jaw locked, then she quickly released it. It was meant to be invisible, but Quentin hadn’t missed it. Not too long ago, he’d asked himself if firing Cindy was the thing to do. But because they had what he felt was a solid history and a complete understanding of their situation, he’d let up. They were past; Phoebe was present. But gauging her reaction just now led him to believe that maybe she didn’t understand at all.

She pivoted and traipsed over to the coffee maker. “You don’t mind if I make some coffee, do you? It would really warm me up.”

“Where’s your car?” Quentin asked.

Cindy slowly turned back to him with a brow quirked upward. “It’s downtown at the job.”

---