Shane picked up a colorful glass paperweight and ran his fingers over it. “What do you do?”
Caught by the movement of Shane’s hands, Quinn stared at the small piece of art he held. He’d looked closely at it before. It was the ocean reef caught in midlife. Created by some artist Quinn could probably never afford. He glanced at the paintings on two of the walls. Shane apparently loved color, and he had incredible taste in art.
“Quinn?” Shane’s hands paused. “What do you do about the messages?”
He cut off his thoughts, meeting those brown eyes. “Try to break through the layers. I’m going in with a completely clean computer, and I’m throwing a few misleading trails out myself.”
“Like red herrings.”
The PI liked to read, another fact made obvious by the shelves of books. His partner, Ethan, had a bare-bones office, but Shane had splashed his personality all over his like he’d half moved in. Like he nested wherever he felt a space was his. Quinn had done that at Ward. Sort of. He’d moved his favorite game system there along with his favorite blanket and pillow.
When Shane frowned, Quinn realized he hadn’t answered again. “Yeah, like red herrings. I’ve set traps and am monitoring all email accounts. Everything I’m doing basically breaks down to researching, digging, and knowing how people think. I’ll be plowing through everything the mayor touches, including social media and more. It’ll take some time. Like I told you.”
Shane set the paperweight down and glanced at his watch. “It’s pretty early. How long have you been here?” His gaze dropped to Quinn’s clothes.
Quinn shrugged while wondering if he should have dressed up more, taken the time to iron the blue shirt instead of just throwing it on over a white tee. “Couple of hours. I don’t sleep well, so I may as well work.”
“You hungry? I brought bagels and they’re still hot.”
“Hot?” Quinn pushed away from the computer immediately. “I can never turn down warm bread.”
Shane’s chuckle was low and raspy. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Hey, Shane!”
Quinn jumped when Ethan popped his head around the doorjamb.
“There’s a guy here to see you.” He waggled brown eyebrows. “Pretty sure this one isn’t a client.”
The man who walked into the room made Quinn’s mouth drop open. Tall and ripped to hell and back, the man had more muscles than the guys at Ward Security. He had a little too much muscle for Quinn’s taste, but the intricate web of tattoos mapping all visible skin intrigued him. So did the sharp, square face that was softened by big, blue eyes.
The guy’s delighted expression when Shane walked up to him was something to see.
“Hey, Baden.” Shane pulled him in for a quick hug.
Blue eyes flicked over Quinn during the hug and that probing look was followed by a sweet smile. This guy was a walking contradiction. A sugary sweet badass. He knew one other man like that—his coworker, Sven Larsen, and he’d always found him fascinating. Was this man a boyfriend? Riveted, Quinn knew he should have left them alone but couldn’t bring himself to leave the room. Plus, they were blocking the door.
“I thought I’d drop by to see if you want to grab a drink later,” Baden said, his hand on Shane’s arm. “I have some unexpected time off.”
“While that sounds fun, unfortunately, I don’t. In fact, we’re working on something that’s going to take up a lot of my time for a few weeks. But maybe after that, we’ll have that drink.” The smile Shane gave him was nothing but friendly.
“Cool.” The guy nodded. “Works for me. I’m not looking for anything serious, but we had some fun. Thought we could again.”
“That we did. A lot of fun.” The throaty amusement in those sentences made Quinn’s dick twitch. Not a boyfriend, then.
Also, Shane was good. He’d brushed off this guy with such finesse, it was obviously something he’d had a lot of practice in doing. He watched Baden hug him again, noting he held him a little longer than necessary.
Not that Quinn blamed him.
Quinn waited while Shane walked Baden out, then headed toward the break room. He dug out one of the bagels and frowned to find it cold. There wasn’t a toaster on the counters, so he settled for the microwave even though it would make it chewier than he liked. As he stood there, staring at the buzzing appliance, he couldn’t stop his mind from supplying images of Shane and Baden naked.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he grabbed on to the edge of the counter and worked to push back the heat pouring into him. Lean, muscled Shane writhing on a bed with that tattooed slab of muscle. He’d have loved to have seen that. He wondered what Shane was like in bed. He laughed often, so would he be the type to crack jokes, or would he be a serious lover? Would he be attentive and take his time? Or would he be fast like everyone Quinn had been with before?