Page 22 of Claiming His Reunion Obsession

It takes me a minute to simmer down. Brad tells me he’s never seen me so mad and I remind him I’m not even mad… yet, and it’s best if he never makes it that way, especially when it comes to my woman.

We make our way down to my truck, and making sure the door to the building’s secured behind us, I get him his client files and some promo gear for the security systems we sell, price and order sheets and what not, everything in my bag, short of the bag itself basically.

He keeps his head pumping, nodding in agreement to anything and everything I tell him now, and I figure I have to at least give him a chance to prove himself with the job and to put what just happened behind us, for now at least.

But if he looks at her, even says one word more than hello or goodbye…

“I won’t let you down, Mr. Quinn. And I am sorry about before, I shouldn’t have said anything like that, I learned a lot just now, about a lot of things, so thanks…”

I feel myself scowling, but I shake his hand and see him off, eager to return inside to my Chelle, to the day ahead and every day together after that. That’s my plan anyway.

I make my way up, shaking off what Brad said, thanking his lucky stars for him that I didn’t clobber him. Chelle’s hanging out the front door in her robe when I step out of the elevator, and I smile as she comes trotting over to me, arms out and I only feel she’s safe once I hold her close to me again.

“I saw Brad leave from the window,” she tells me. “Am I allowed out in my robe now?” She teases, and I adjust it for her, keeping it done right up.

“Let’s take a walk,” I suggest, “just down to the next floor.” She looks puzzled, but I assure her we’re the only people in the building, we can leave the door open.

“It’ll just take a minute,” I tell her.

“Sure,” she says, reminding me that anywhere I take her is fine, as long as I’m with her.

Chapter Seventeen

Chelle

We go down in the elevator. Only to the next floor, which is just as fancy once the elevator doors open, but the front door to the condos look different. Smaller.

Quinn uses his passkey to open the door, and we step inside.

“This is the standard. Still nice…” he muses and following his lead, I step inside. It’s similar to the penthouse, but as he said, smaller.

“It’s nice,” I tell him, looking around, noticing the view is just as good and that it only feels smaller because of the stadium upstairs I saw already.

Quinn starts to mention all the features, the square footage, how many rooms and even what the fittings are made of.

“You sound like the estate agent,” I tell him.

“I am!” he exclaims, “And I can’t help being a little… attached to this one, out of all of them in the building.”

I must look as confused as I feel I look. I’m standing in a condo in a bathrobe which isn’t even mine after spending the night with my ex-grade school teacher who I’m pretty sure I want to spend the rest of my life with… and I still have two days off after this one.

“It’s close to the freeway, which can take you to the store, even to the hospital in under an hour… there’s two rooms apart from the main, one even blue already…”

I snuggle up to Quinn, putting one hand on his chest and the other I use to put my finger over his lips.

“Just what are you saying, Quinn? I can’t afford a place like this, not in a million years. It’s really nice, but I’m afraid I can’t just…”

He kisses me in reply. I feel more confused than ever. I thought for a second he was using our night together to maybe try and sell me a condo, but the intensity of his kiss has me stumped. Pretty soon, I’m not interested in condos or the taps anymore and I feel myself guiding Quinn’s hands into my robe, wondering if we can mess up two of these beds in one day.

But Quinn takes my hand and puts the passkey into it, pressing his hand tighter over mine.

“Welcome home, honey,” he says, beaming.

“I could have a word with the owner about the top floor, maybe do a deal to switch, but I dunno, it all depends on what you want, Chelle. As long as you’re happy.”

“Quinn. What are you talking about? Is this your condo? I thought you were just the agent.”

“I am,” he says, taking me by the hand, guiding me over to the window.

“I bought this when I saw the plans after selling the lot to the owners. It’s the only bay for hundreds of miles with a view like this and it’s zoned so that it won’t get much more crowded than this… ever. It’s perfect!”

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