Page 66 of Quinton's Quest

Rayne was a private investigator who was exuberant, irreverent, and always grinning.

Such a contrast.

After a moment, Everett reached for Rayne’s hand. The contrast between his dark skin and Rayne’s light one was stark.

“Aw, honey. So sweet.” Rayne winked, even as he kept his arm around me.

“Let me guess—blueberry milkshake and meatloaf.” Sarabeth’s attention was trained on Rayne as she placed two glasses of water on the table. “Oh, crap. Decaf.”

“No worries.” I hadn’t planned on saying anything—she was clearly run off her feet.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger with a side of Caesar salad.” Everett handed her the menus. “I hope it’s okay we consolidated our tables.”

“That means I can seat another couple—so it’s helpful for me.” She nodded and took off.

More work for her.Hopefully more tips.

I turned my attention to Everett. “How goes the law?”

“Boring.” Rayne emphasized theo. He released his grasp of me to pull out his phone. “Want to see Champ’s latest photo? We put him in agility training. He’s so much better.”

Champ was Rayne’s rescue German Shepherd and, indeed, he appeared damn impressive.

“Uh…intimidating.”

“Right? But he’s great with kids. I mean, go figure. He was trained to be a guard dog, and it’s like, after he saved my life, he kind of figured his job was over and he could just become a goofball.”

Ah yes. Dog saves man. Classic story. Only this one had a dirty cop and Everett’s sister, Denali, who dropped a plant on said dirty cop’s head. Quite a story. All of which I’d listened to in horror as I realized how close my patient and his boyfriend had come to death at the hands of a man with a gun. Thank God for Denali.

“He’s a handsome dog. How goes the PI business?” Perhaps getting Rayne to talk would settle me. Because all I could wonder was if they thought I was on a date with Quinton.

I was grateful no one asked…because I couldn’t have articulated whether we were or not.

“Decaf coffee.” Sarabeth put it on the table, smiled, and bustled off.

“Busy night.” Rayne glanced around. “We were lucky to get a table.”

And already the one Quinton and I had occupied had a young couple who appeared very much in love, if the sappy looks they were giving each other was any indication.

Before I could comment, Sarabeth was back with Rayne’s blueberry milkshake.

He grinned. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” She shot her gaze between Quinton and me. “Your food will be up next. Is it okay that I serve you, or do you want to wait?”

“We can take our food when it’s ready.” I didn’t want her worrying about timing things and, frankly, I was famished.

“Great.” Her relieved expression, with a weary smile, assured me that I’d said the right thing. She spun and headed to the newcomers.

“I don’t envy her.” Quinton spoke quietly—barely audible above the fifties music.

“Very true.” Everett grasped his water glass. “But you have busy days as well, right?”

Quinton met my gaze. “Some nights are busier than others.”

“Oh, really?” Rayne sipped his milkshake. “What’s the story behind that expression?”

I scrutinized Quinton—attempting to see if I could spot whatever Rayne saw.