Page 26 of Something like Redemption

“Hey,” he replies, his fingers working across the piece of paper, sketching madly.

With his head bowed, his hair shrouds his eyes, but I can see them move over the paper in deep concentration. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, and he nibbles on his hoop every so often, which drives me insane.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask, making sure I stay submerged since the bubbles cover my nakedness.

“Sketching,” he replies, his fingers dancing over the paper.

“Sketching what?” I ask, craning my neck in an attempt to see what he’s drawing.

“You,” he replies, his head finally lifting to meet my wide eyes.

“Oh,” I say on a breath, suddenly dipping farther into the water.

“Yeah. I hope that doesn’t creep you out.” He sits up, placing his pencil down.“I came in here to make sure you hadn’t drowned. And you’d fallen asleep looking like…well, a Siren.”

I can tell he’s a little embarrassed by his confession.

“A Siren? Didn’t they lure sailors to their deaths?”

Quinn smiles, brushing back his hair. “Yes. But those sailors happily went to their watery graves, having heard and seen the beautiful water goddesses. You see, they looked innocent and sounded angelic, but underneath all that beauty lay a powerful, misunderstood woman—like you. And if I were to die…I would be just like those sailors,” he whispers, his mind in a faraway place.

I gasp, and my heart pounds against my rib cage.

“Do you believe in life after death?” I ask, not wanting to scrutinize his comment because it’s just too much.

“I’d like to think there is more to life than this.”

“Me too,” I confess softly.

There has to be more. For Hank’s sake—there just has to be.

“Can I see?” I ask, straining my neck to see his handiwork, hoping to break the sudden silence.

“It’s not done,” he replies, holding the pad to his chest with a smile.

“How will you finish it? Don’t you need me to pose or something?” I say shyly. There is no way I’d be able to sit still, knowing Quinn’s eyes rake over every inch of my body.

Quinn chuckles as he stands and taps his temple. “It’s all up here. Trust me, it’s a sight I won’t forget anytime soon.”

My body heats under his piercing gaze, and I shift my legs nervously. After a moment of silence, he clears his throat.

“I’ll give you some privacy while you change. I grabbed your stuff but didn’t know what you wanted to wear,so I brought everything in,” he says, pointing at my backpack and the three shopping bags sitting near the door.

“Thank you, Quinn.” I smile, touched by his kindness.

He gives me one final heated look, and only when he closes the door behind him do I begin to breathe again.

Quinn is always hungry.

But looking at his burly frame and trying not to drool, I guess he needs to fuel all that muscle.

I’m stuffed after our massive Southern dinner, which was amazing. But Quinn is looking for something else to eat as we’re walking the streets, in no real hurry.

The night is chilly, so I’m dressed in my jeans, boots, and a fleecy sweater. I’m so thankful we stopped to get some heavier clothes; otherwise, I would be freezing my butt off now.

“Hey, there’s that bar the chick who was eye fucking you was talking about,” I say, looking up at the sign ahead, which flashes in fluorescent green.

“Eye fucking me?” he questions, raising his brow.

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