Page 26 of Loving You

Spreadsheets?

I finish at the sink before Quinn reappears, so I head toward the office because, let’s be honest, I’m not about to walk outside alone.

I’m not scared of Cherry.

I’m annoyed with the situation I put myself into, and the more she keeps popping up, the more I’m worried that I might say something I’ll regret and all that business that comes my way will go poof, bye-bye.

“How many spreadsheets did you?—”

I stop dead in my tracks.

My office is … holy shit, it’s so clean. I slowly look from one side to the other.

The cabinets are labeled alphabetically, the white chairs that were starting to look light brown are white again, I can see the top of the desk and the little basket things I bought once thinking they’d help me get more organized are stacked with papers in them. Even the dish my nephew Max bought me on my last birthday for my peanut M&M addiction is out of the box and filled with the little chocolate candies.

I pop the lid off and grab a handful as I continue to observe the room.

“When did you buy a plant?” I ask her, pointing to the one in the small window behind the desk, then toss an M&M into my mouth.

“It’s from the apartment. I thought I could place one in here to make it a little homier. Also, I saw the pictures you’ve taken of past projects in one of your computer files, and I think we should get them printed and hang some of them up in here.”

I glance from the small plant to Quinn.

“I know that’s not what you hired me for, but like I said, your work is good. I think we need to show it.”

I don’t really know what to say. It’s not often I get compliments that aren’t from customers, and Quinn just gave me two in the last ten minutes.

I nod, give her a half-ass smile, and then nod to the door. “Let’s go eat.”

Quinn doesn’t move. "You really don’t have anything to say back?”

“I do not. Let’s go eat.”

“I’m sorry, but I need a moment to just … I left Miles Asher speechless. And you didn’t argue with me. Wow. Is this a reflection of how you listen in bed? I bet you get laid a lot if so. No wonder this girl is obsessed with?—”

“Okay, let’s move on and eat,” I all but growl.

I do not need to be thinking about how often I get laid—which isn’t as often as she’s suggesting—and about Quinn at the same time.

Hell, I’m still annoyed with myself for bringing it up yesterday. The way her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, and her gaze darkened had me hard in a matter of seconds.

Talking sex with Quinn needs to always be off-limits.

I touch the small of her back to gently encourage her to get moving.

“I mean this is?—”

“Do you ever stop talking? Or can you ever let someone else have the last word?” I cut her off.

“No and no.”

I let out a small chuckle as we step out of the shop.

At least she’s honest about it.

“Hearing you laugh is not something I’m?—”

“Hi,” Cherry says, stepping in front of us as soon as we areoutside and twisting her fingers together as she glances at Quinn. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

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