her expression. “Making assumptions and judging what you think is happening based on stereotypes?”
“No, I meant—”
“Meant to imply that because I’m in my twenties, I’d be put off by how a woman looks without makeup?” He leaned back against the counter.
She couldn’t deny that was part of it.
She sighed. “You’re right, and that was unfair. I’m sorry. But look at me, Baby. I don’t look anything like the woman you brought home last night. Are you telling me that doesn’t bother you at all?”
He took a breath then reached over to pull the chair out for her to sit down at the table. “I see one of us is going to have to be the adult here.”
That rankled. But before she could figure out how to respond, she found Baby’s face right in front of hers. “Can I tell you something about what I find attractive?”
He put a finger over her lips so she couldn’t answer if she’d wanted to. “A sense of humor. Someone who can carry on a conversation. Someone who is kind to others and willing to try new things, even when it’s out of their comfort zone—like going on a date with me. You’re beautiful, whether you’re wearing makeup or not.”
He removed his finger and sat down in the seat next to her at the table. “That hair of yours, though...that caught me off guard.”
Her hand flew up to her hair. “What about it?”
“It’s curly.” He reached over and grabbed a strand, pulling on it gently. “No wonder it’s always trying to escape its bun.”
“I have to spend an hour straightening it every day to get it to behave.”
He took a bite of his food and winked at her. “Some things aren’t meant to be tamed.”
It hadn’t been long after that they’d been back in bed, Quinn’s concerns about how she looked long forgotten under the heat of his gaze.
He’d stopped by every lunch shift she’d worked, and they’d had dinner together every night for the past three nights. Last night they ate with Boy Riley and Girl Riley.
She wasn’t going to see him tonight since she had a late class, and he had to run to Reddington City early in the morning. But he’d texted her with a picture of a cupcake right before she walked into class and almost completely blown her concentration—in the best way possible.
She cursed when her computer screen jumped again then froze with only the spinning beach ball of death visible. She’d have to see if someone from the IT department here at school could take a look at it.
But there was no point being here to get work done if her computer wasn’t going to allow it. She packed up and went out to her car. Maybe rebooting it at home would fix the problem.
Home.
The thought of this being home didn’t seem so horrible anymore. Yes, she missed the prestige of working at Harvard and knew this thing with Baby, hot as it was, was temporary. But she didn’t feel so much like her life was out of control anymore. Maybe not exactly as she’d planned it to be, but not so bad either.
As soon as she pulled up in front of her house, she saw Grizzly standing near the woods over to the side. That seemed to be his favorite place. He was close enough to see her house and be nearby when she put out food, but far enough to let her and everyone else know that he could and would take off at a moment’s notice if he so desired.
Baby was amazed the dog had stuck around as long as he had. Quinn privately thought it was because she didn’t try to befriend Grizzly, just provide him the means to help himself if he wanted.
She knew what it felt like to think that the whole world was against you. What it felt like to not want to be rescued, but just needing a little help.
She got out of the car. “Hey, Grizzly. You playing nice with the other kids? I don’t usually see you around at this time at night.”
The moon barely gave her enough light to see him. She tried to leave food out for him twice a day, around breakfast and then dinner. She glanced over at the bowl and saw it was empty.
“You trying to get some sneaky extras?” she asked as she moved away from the car. This was usually when Grizzly would give her a bored look, tip back his nose,