telling a lot of people about it. There were still a couple of folks left in the warehouse, and if he could remember any of their darn names, by God, he'd call them over and show them a thing or two about dinosaurs.
But who could remember names, when it was too darn hot to remember anything?
A particularly round specimen caught his eye on table seven, and he wandered over to give it a closer look. He was sure he'd opened it up, but he'd better check it, just to make sure.
S O you did sell him the cars?” Regan asked, and Quinn found the disappointment in her voice heartening. Somehow, after the last wild hour, she must have still been harboring a hope that he wasn't quite as bad as he seemed.
Interesting.
He shrugged. “Let's just say he got to borrow Betty for a while.”
“And who would let him do that, if it wasn't you?”
Quinn wasn't about to give her Dylan's name, not yet.
“One of my partners” was all he said.
“Who?” she demanded, but he just looked at her. “Okay, then what about the Porsche?”
Yeah, what about the Porsche. He was still thinking about the Porsche, too. “We did have one we were looking to unload, but your grandfather isn't exactly a regular on our client list.”
“Of course not,” she said, sounding thoroughly offended again. “He never—” She stopped suddenly when the computer came to life.
A series of numbers flashed on the screen. Quinn hit a key, and a message scrolled across the monitor at the same time as it came through a speaker.
“
Skeeter here. All clear in Boulder
,” a young voice said.
Quinn adjusted the volume. “Did you get a visual?”
“
That would be affirmative.
”
“Nikki's fine,” he interpreted for Regan. “Skeeter, I need you to call Superman, tell him we're coming in. I'll call the boss myself.”
Or not,
he thought, already knowing what Dylan would think of him and Kid breaking cover.
“
Copy that.
”
Quinn hit another key. “Kid. What's your ETA?”
“
Seven o'clock tonight.
”
“Great.” A quick smile curved Quinn's lips. “I'll have Regan call you in.”
At least that had been the plan, but when he glanced over at her, she didn't look in the mood to cooperate.
“Skeeter is our . . . office manager,” he said with a smile. An encouraging smile, he hoped. “The computers are Kid's. Something he's been fooling around with, a wireless laptop with internal cell phone components on a closed satellite network with GPS. Do you want to call Nikki and tell her Kid Chronopolous is going to stay with her until you get home?”
“Why shouldn't I call the police instead?” she retorted, sounding like her mind was already made up, lifting her chin just enough that she could look down her nose at him, and suddenly he was back in that tent in Rabbit Valley. She'd been surprised when he'd walked in on her, but no more surprised than he'd been, and he never could have said who had recovered first—though his money had always been on her and the princess-to-pauper gaze she'd leveled at him. She hadn't been frightened. He'd realized that real quick. Badass jokers on the streets were afraid of him—but not the professor's granddaughter. No, she'd just looked down her prissy little nose and stared at him.
He'd loved it, absolutely loved it—there she'd been, practically naked and giving him attitude. He'd noticed her before, had been watching her, but that was when he'd fallen in sixteen-year-old love. Letting his gaze take a quick trip down her body and back had turned that split-second, initially pure and breathless feeling into molten lust. For an encounter that couldn't have lasted more than a minute, it had had one hell of an impact on him.
He'd pretty much ricocheted between love and lust the whole rest of the summer. Both reactions had made it impossible for him to work up the guts to talk to her. Every time he'd seen her, in his mind he'd seen her naked.
Some things never change,
he thought, mildly disgusted with
But who could remember names, when it was too darn hot to remember anything?
A particularly round specimen caught his eye on table seven, and he wandered over to give it a closer look. He was sure he'd opened it up, but he'd better check it, just to make sure.
S O you did sell him the cars?” Regan asked, and Quinn found the disappointment in her voice heartening. Somehow, after the last wild hour, she must have still been harboring a hope that he wasn't quite as bad as he seemed.
Interesting.
He shrugged. “Let's just say he got to borrow Betty for a while.”
“And who would let him do that, if it wasn't you?”
Quinn wasn't about to give her Dylan's name, not yet.
“One of my partners” was all he said.
“Who?” she demanded, but he just looked at her. “Okay, then what about the Porsche?”
Yeah, what about the Porsche. He was still thinking about the Porsche, too. “We did have one we were looking to unload, but your grandfather isn't exactly a regular on our client list.”
“Of course not,” she said, sounding thoroughly offended again. “He never—” She stopped suddenly when the computer came to life.
A series of numbers flashed on the screen. Quinn hit a key, and a message scrolled across the monitor at the same time as it came through a speaker.
“
Skeeter here. All clear in Boulder
,” a young voice said.
Quinn adjusted the volume. “Did you get a visual?”
“
That would be affirmative.
”
“Nikki's fine,” he interpreted for Regan. “Skeeter, I need you to call Superman, tell him we're coming in. I'll call the boss myself.”
Or not,
he thought, already knowing what Dylan would think of him and Kid breaking cover.
“
Copy that.
”
Quinn hit another key. “Kid. What's your ETA?”
“
Seven o'clock tonight.
”
“Great.” A quick smile curved Quinn's lips. “I'll have Regan call you in.”
At least that had been the plan, but when he glanced over at her, she didn't look in the mood to cooperate.
“Skeeter is our . . . office manager,” he said with a smile. An encouraging smile, he hoped. “The computers are Kid's. Something he's been fooling around with, a wireless laptop with internal cell phone components on a closed satellite network with GPS. Do you want to call Nikki and tell her Kid Chronopolous is going to stay with her until you get home?”
“Why shouldn't I call the police instead?” she retorted, sounding like her mind was already made up, lifting her chin just enough that she could look down her nose at him, and suddenly he was back in that tent in Rabbit Valley. She'd been surprised when he'd walked in on her, but no more surprised than he'd been, and he never could have said who had recovered first—though his money had always been on her and the princess-to-pauper gaze she'd leveled at him. She hadn't been frightened. He'd realized that real quick. Badass jokers on the streets were afraid of him—but not the professor's granddaughter. No, she'd just looked down her prissy little nose and stared at him.
He'd loved it, absolutely loved it—there she'd been, practically naked and giving him attitude. He'd noticed her before, had been watching her, but that was when he'd fallen in sixteen-year-old love. Letting his gaze take a quick trip down her body and back had turned that split-second, initially pure and breathless feeling into molten lust. For an encounter that couldn't have lasted more than a minute, it had had one hell of an impact on him.
He'd pretty much ricocheted between love and lust the whole rest of the summer. Both reactions had made it impossible for him to work up the guts to talk to her. Every time he'd seen her, in his mind he'd seen her naked.
Some things never change,
he thought, mildly disgusted with
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