“When is Mother expecting us?”
“Whenever we get there.”
“All right.” He finished sliding his trousers up over his hips, zipped his fly, and fastened the button at the waistband. “Mark?”
I’d been standing there watching him, doing my best to keep my hands to myself and to not drool. “Right.” And I hurried to get dressed
~*~
QUINN SELECTED A CHARDONNAY when I told him what we’d be having for dinner.
“That’s what Mother told Gregor to make for me when you left me.”
Yeah, it was his go-to comfort food, just like mac and cheese from the blue and orange box was mine.
“Mother probably has a chardonnay just as good, but—” He’d always bring something. He was a classy kind of guy.
“That’s a good idea.”
We left the condo, and this time we took the stairs down to the lobby level. We had just exited when a woman’s voice sang out.
“Mr. Vincent!” One of our neighbors approached us.
I sighed, while Quinn, the bastard, smothered a chuckle. “Hello, Mrs. Marten.”