Page 138

“The odds are in your favor,” she replied and wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck.

“What are you making?”

“Oh, breakfast is cereal and coffee. I’m very grown up,” she joked.

Quinn laughed and replied, “I’d hope so after what we did last night. I was also hoping we’d do it again this morning before I have to go to work.” She kissed Abby’s neck.

“When do you have to go so you can open on time?”

“I’m usually there an hour early to do other stuff before people walk in. Why?”

“Well, it’s only eight… We’ve got time, if you can skip breakfast. Then, I can pick us up something from the good coffee place while you do whatever you need to do.” Abby kissed her.

“I can skip breakfast,” Quinn replied.

“Bed?”

“No. Here’s fine.” Quinn turned Abby back around to face the counter.

Abby laughed until Quinn wrapped her up in her arms, slid her hands under Abby’s shirt, and then cupped her breastsbefore she slid one hand down and into Abby’s pants.

“You’re not wearing underwear.”

“No, I’m not. We went to sleep naked. I just grabbed pants as quickly as I could so that I wouldn’t wake you up.”

“Feel free not to wear underwear anytime you want.” Quinn nibbled on Abby’s neck.

An hour later, they hopped back into Abby’s shower, strictly to clean up this time, and shortly after, they dressed and were out the door. When they arrived, Quinn went into the shop, and Abby walked down the street to get coffee and bagels. With their food and beverages in hand, she headed to the antique shop a few minutes later, but something caught her eye. It was a bench with a phone number, company name, and a person’s picture.

“Simon?” she asked herself and stared at the photo of a man in a black suit, white shirt, and blue tie.

He had a kind smile and even kinder eyes. Then, Abby remembered where she’d seen him before, so she rushed to the shop and found Quinn packing up an item to be shipped out.

“Babe,” she said, breathing hard.

“Did you run back here? Miss methatmuch?” Quinn teased.

“What? No,” Abby returned and set the paper bag with their bagels, along with their coffees, down.

“Okay, ouch, Abs. We just said, ‘I love you,’ for the first time last night. You’re already sick of me?”

“Again, six centuries later, I don’t think that’s likely, but not the point right now. The realtor.”

“I’m confused,” Quinn said. “Must be the lack of sleep and the lack of coffee.”

“Quinn, the realtor who dropped off the box – his name was Simon.”

“Okay. So?”

“Simon Litchfield. He works forYour Dream Home Realty.”

“Terrible name for a company,” Quinn noted, shakingher head.

“Babe, I need you to focus right now.” She took both of Quinn’s hands in her own and stared into her eyes. “Quinn, his name is Simon. I didn’t put it together at the time because it was before we’dmetCheryl and Diana.”

It took another second, but then Quinn’s eyes went wide.

“Simon? As in–”