Page 68 of Quinton's Quest

Making me realize I hadn’t touched mine.

As the men thanked her, I dug into my chicken dinner.

Before taking a bite, though, Rayne met Quinton’s gaze. “What precisely did you hear?”

So Quinton took him through it. All of it.

And I listened with shame. I shouldn’t have downplayed what he’d said to me. Yes, I’d been distracted. Yes, ERs could be chaotic and there was a good chance he hadn’t heard what he thought he had. Although Quinton could be quick to temper—at least with me—he also wasn’t prone to histrionics.

I held my tongue, and shoveled in food, while Rayne, Everett, and Quinton theorized what might be the reason for what he heard.

Everett poked his cheeseburger. “I’d say it has something to do with the fire department. Right?” He glanced at his fiancé.

Who nodded. “Yeah, I’d say so. Are you close to any of them? You said Finn’s gay, right?” Rayne stuck a forkful of meatloaf into a pile of gravy.

Quinton’s cheeks pinkened. “Uh, I don’t think I said that.”

Rayne’s eyes widened. “So he’s not?”

“No, he is.” Everett chuckled ruefully. “I was the one who had to tell my wonderful sister that no, Finn doesn’t usually swing both ways, and she was flat out of luck.” He rolled his eyes. “I love Denali. I have great respect for Finn. Those two would be like oil and water.”

“How so?” Rayne leaned forward in his seat—clearly eager.

“Nope. Eat your vegetables.”

Rayne pursed his lips. “You’re no fun.”

“So you say. Until we’re in bed.” This time, Everett’s eyes widened. Almost like he couldn’t believe what he’d just said.

For the first time in a while, Quinton barked out a laugh. “Oh, my dear, you walked right into that one.”

Rayne puffed out his chest. “What can I say? I’m a good fu—” He glanced around.

“Yes, we get the idea.” Everett rolled his eyes yet again. A lot of that going around tonight.

“Are you asking if Quinton could talk to Finn? Get him to spill any secrets he might have?” I eyed all three men with a healthy degree of skepticism.

“Hey, I’m good at getting people to talk to me.” Quinton jutted his chin. Yet again.

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”Except that kind of was what I was saying because I don’t want you seeing a handsome firefighter.That was my issue, though. “You think you can get him to talk?”

This time, doubt clouded Quinton’s expression as his brow knit. “I’m not even certain what to ask him.”

“Start with general questions about the incident that brought them in.” Rayne’s attention focused on Quinton in a way I’d almost never seen from him. He always felt like contained chaos. “He probably knows more than he realizes.”

“Unless he’s in on it and knows everything.” I put my knife and fork down—surprised I’d eaten everything.

“You’re assuming something nefarious is going on.” Everett held my gaze.

I shrugged. “If Quinton heard what he says—”

“—I did hear it.”

“—then something’s afoot. You don’t ask someone to lose a blood sample without having a nefarious reason.” I surveyed our plates and discovered we’d all consumed just about everything. “This food is so freaking good.”

“Best meatloaf ever.” Rayne patted his flat stomach.

“It’s a good thing we don’t eat here every night.” Everett chuckled. Then sobered and turned to Quinton. “How well do you know Finn? Can you casually check up on him?”