Owen hung up the phone and turned toward the sofa. For such a shitty day, things were turning out alright.

“Duke and Levi both say they’d be more than happy to clean up a spot for you. I guess Duke’s down a guy anyway, so there’s space.” Owen slid his phone back onto the charging station.

“Oh...” Quinn blinked at him, as though she hadn’t expected that.

“Tomorrow we can load it up and take everything over there. Or I can, if you’d rather.” Owen would need to turn his mind toward finding a new job. Soon. He’d love to spend his time focused on Quinn and Kierra, but the realist in him was starting to clamor in the back of his head. If he got the severance package it would only last him so long.

“Let’s see how tomorrow morning goes. Did Zach ever call about the laptop?” she asked.

“No, he didn’t. He had something going on tonight with his nephew, so I’ll text him real fast.” He picked his phone back up and prayed that whatever revelations Zach had, he’d wait a while before dumping them in their laps.

Quinn needed a break. Even if just for a few hours.

She pushed up off the sofa and crossed to the coat rack. The house was a little chilly with the cool front blowing in, and he’d mostly turned the thermostat off since he’d been gone the week. Quinn slid her arms into her coat and turned toward him.

Owen finished the text and hit send.

He glanced up at Quinn, her frown setting off alarms.

“What is it?” Owen put his phone down and crossed to Quinn’s side.

“This was in my pocket...”

She held out a slip of paper. Scrawled in black pen were a few lines of text.

Officer King, everything comes at a price. You took from me, now I’ll take from you.

“What does that mean?” Quinn asked.

Owen stared at the paper, his mouth opening and closing.

What the hell?

“Where was this?” He grabbed a freezer bag sticking out of the drawer and held it out.

“My pocket. Why?” She slid it into the bag.

Chances were, whatever trace evidence was on the paper was contaminated, but he couldn’t risk it.

“Owen—you’re scaring me.” Quinn’s voice was level, but her eyes begged him for comfort.

This second attack was because of him.

They’d assumed it was because of the key, the battery, or the home invasion. What if they had it completely wrong? He could have just brought her into the bulls eye.

“I’m going to call Morgan and Wu. They’ll handle this.” Owen’s first responsibility had to be protecting Quinn. He wasn’t a detective anymore, this wasn’t his job, but it didn’t alleviate him of his responsibility.

“Why would there be a note to you in my jacket?” Quinn’s voice rose.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. Quinn? Quinn, look at me.” He gripped her by the shoulders. “I put away a lot of bad guys. I won’t let anything happen to you, got it?”

She practically shook in his arms.

He pulled her in close and tucked her against his side.

So much for taking it easy the rest of the night.

He dialed Morgan’s number directly. It wasn’t proper procedure, but he didn’t give a fuck. Quinn was scared, someone had their sights on him, she’d been through a lot in a week.

“King, getting into trouble?” Morgan asked.

“I need you to come to my place, now.”

“Uh-oh. Is this—”

“Whoever attacked Quinn left a note in her coat pocket. For me.”

“Be there in ten.”

Owen hung up and wrapped his arms around Quinn.

All he’d wanted to do was help her. Make things easier. Instead, had he put her in harm’s way?

Neither of them spoke while they waited. He didn’t know what to say. He’d really fucked this one up.

Headlights in the driveway alerted him to the arrival of the officers.

“This is them.” He gave Quinn a squeeze, then let her go.

Owen opened the door for Wu and Morgan before they reached the porch. The two officers walked in, faces as grim as Owen felt.

“Where’s the note?” Morgan asked.

“Over here on the counter.” Owen led them to the kitchen.

“And this wasn’t in your pocket earlier?” Morgan turned toward Quinn.

“I...don’t know. I was carrying my jacket out of the office, it was in my lap when everything happened. I just assumed the ambulance people must have taken it with them to the hospital. I put it back on, and that’s when I found the note in my pocket.” Quinn kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, eyes wide.

Wu stared pointedly at the side of Morgan’s head. Morgan continued to study the note, ignoring his partner.

“I have to ask.” Morgan lifted his gaze to Owen. “You think this is about...?”

“I don’t know.” Owen shrugged.

“About what?” Quinn demanded.

“Jax. Freya. That thing.” Owen glanced at Quinn.

“Seriously?” Quinn covered her mouth.

“People are starting to talk. Ask questions. Your name is coming up a lot.” Morgan tilted his head.

Owen had to wonder what side of all this he was put on. The good side? Or the bad?

“What do we do now?” Quinn asked.

“We’ll bag this, take it in.” Morgan nodded at the note.

“Did you make enemies with anyone specifically lately?” Wu asked.

“Not that I can think of, no.” Owen had ticked off plenty of people, but to his knowledge they were all of the bad guy variety.

“What about your partner? Word is, he threw you under the bus pretty hard,” Morgan said.

“He did what he thought was right. It wasn’t personal.” Owen found it hard to believe his new partner was involved. The guy was a straight arrow, which was why when Owen had bent the rules to help Kade and then Jaxon, they hadn’t gotten along so well.

“Did any cops come see you in the hospital?” Morgan asked Quinn.

“No. The only people I saw besides the nurses and doctor were friends and people from work.” She hugged her arms tighter around herself.

“Okay, then we have to assume the perp put the note in her pocket, which means...” Morgan grimaced.

“Which means whoever did this to me, he did it intentionally. That’s what none of you are saying, right?” Quinn glanced between the three of them. “I’m not stupid. The man who attacked me at my home had a beard. The one today was clean shaven. Their voices were different. It wasn’t the same guy. If you’re talking about dirty cops, then this person knew I’d been attacked already. Right?”

Morgan and Wu both found somewhere else to look.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Quinn. This was all my fault.” He hated that he was the one who’d put her in danger.

“You didn’t make this person drug me. Scare me. Or leave me on the side of the road. They chose to do this to send a message. God, I wish you weren’t suspended. I wish you could—I don’t know. Do something.” Quinn fisted her hands, the lines of her face tight, angry.

Owen swallowed.

She didn’t mean it as a dig. He knew that, and yet her words stung. She was right, as a civilian he couldn’t do anything besides be there for her. The hunt for the perp was out of his hands. It was a new world order, and he wasn’t sure how to operate in it.

“Right now, the best thing for Owen to do is to let us handle this. Don’t give the higher-ups any more reason to cut him loose,” Morgan said.

“But I already—”

“I don’t care what you agreed to, Owen.” Morgan held up his hand. “You’re a damn good cop. That’s got to mean something, or else what are we doing?”

Both Morgan and Wu’s radios chirped, calling them away.

“We’ll take this.” Morgan picked up the note. “Get some rest. We’ll have patrol do regular drive bys. Keep all the windows locked. You know the drill. Do you have a gun of your own?”

“Yeah.” Owen didn’t like to think he’d need it, but clearly he did.

“Keep it handy. Stay safe.” Morgan waved

The two officers strode out the door, Owen locking up after them. He didn’t wait to see them out the driveway before he pulled the blinds and curtains. He went to every room in the front of the house, testing the catch and blocking out the rest of the world.

Quinn paced back and forth, her about face’s sharp.

“Quinn, I am so sorry...” Where did he even begin?

“I’m angry,” she blurted, never once breaking stride.

He was glad she’d moved from fear to anger, but they were just emotions. Quinn was a creature of thought. How she felt wouldn’t matter as much as what she thought, when the dust settled.

“Things aren’t supposed to be this way.” She finally stopped, one hand braced on the counter, the other over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m so sorry.” Owen didn’t know how to make this better, for her or him, so he stood there, wishing he could take the last week back. She hadn’t actually needed him.

“Sorry? For what? For being a good person? For being good at your job? For giving a damn?”

“For...uh...”

Quinn walked straight into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing so tight he could hardly breathe.

“This isn’t fair. It isn’t right,” she said into his shirt. “If I find out who did this I’m locking you in my basement so you can’t stop me.”

“From what?” He couldn’t help but laugh.

“I can sling a mean wrench.”

He shouldn’t find her promise of violence endearing, but he did. Because if he ever found the bastard who’d broken into her home, he wouldn’t be wearing a badge and he wouldn’t be enforcing the law.

Owen wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the crown of her head, then laid his cheek against her hair. She held on tight, as though she were determined to squeeze the life out of him.

“Let’s sit down and talk this through.” He gave her one last squeeze, then took her hand.

“What’s to talk through? They’ll find out who did this and then—well, I can’t tell you what happens then.” Her pronounced frown was more cute than intimidating. Threats of bodily harm shouldn’t be this endearing.

Owen did his best not to laugh. This wasn’t the time to make light of things. He led her back to the sofa and sat on the cushions, the stress of the day wearing him down. Quinn needed no urging to settle in at his side, curling against him.

This was the only bright spot. Being with Quinn.

“What is there to discuss?” Quinn asked.

“Everything. Everything we thought we knew is potentially incorrect.”

“What do we know, then?” Quinn held up a finger. “Someone broke into my house and attacked me because they want a key. Probably a key that goes to a safety deposit box where we store my mother’s research journals.”

“That’s like three things and you’re only giving it one finger?”

“I’m being economical. I only have so many fingers. Two.” She added the second finger. “Someone attacked me on my way to the hardware store because they maybe wanted to send you a message? Three, we can’t trust all the cops. Am I missing anything?”

“No. That about sums it up.” They certainly had a lot on their plates.

“What can we actively do about any of this?” she asked.

“Without some sort of proof, or a lead...nothing.”

“Exactly. Good talk.”

Owen chuckled. He should not find any of this funny, and yet it was.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” he asked.

“Not really. I mean, I’m tired, but I don’t think I can sleep.” She picked her head up off his chest. “If we’re going to talk about anything, should we talk about my stuff in your room?”

“We can.” He set the remote down. “My room has the fewest windows. The way the backyard slopes, it would be hard for someone to get into the house through the bedroom. I’d sleep easier if you were there, in a spot that’s easier to defend.”

“Wow.”

“And then there’s also the part where I’d just like to have you in my bed.”

“That’s what I was expecting you to say and you went all cop on me.”

“Sorry, can’t really turn that part of me off.”

“It’s okay, we just think differently.”

“Is it okay I think about you in my bed?”

Quinn seemed to consider it for a moment before answering, “Yes.”

“Had to think about that one extra hard, huh?” He chuckled again.

“Weighing all my options.” One corner of Quinn’s mouth quirked up.

“Oh, yeah? Do you have options I don’t know about?”

“There’s never just one way of solving a problem.”

“Is that what I am? A problem?”

“You were.” She tilted her head to the side, some of the humor evaporating. She stared at him as though she were seeing his soul. “And then you started being part of the solution. Things change.”

“Is that a change you like?”

“I didn’t think I would, but I do.”

“Good. I like being part of your solution.” He squeezed her hand still in his.

Quinn leaned toward him. He didn’t move. She was the one who’d been through hell today, she got to call the shots. He wouldn’t push for anything she didn’t want. She splayed her free hand against his chest, her eyes on his mouth.

“Is it weird I have this completely outlandish urge to jump your bones right now?” she asked.

Owen might have laughed, except he’d spent much of the day trying to not think about last night. How she’d felt.

“No, it’s pretty common.” He settled his other hand at the curve of her waist. She was practically sitting in his lap. “Your life was threatened. It’s only natural to have urges that reaffirm you’re alive.”

“I’d like to reaffirm that whole alive thing. If you’re up for it?”

“I’m always up for reaffirming you’re alive.”

“Is that what we’re calling this now?” Quinn slid her leg over his until she straddled his lap. Her smile and the snickering laugh were the next best thing to waking up with her that morning. “This went to a silly place. I don’t know if I can be serious now.”

“Affirming life doesn’t have to be serious business.” He sat up, scooting forward and closing the distance between their bodies.

Quinn slid her arms around his neck. Their noses bumped.

She was alive. She was there. She didn’t hate him.

There was so much to be grateful for, he didn’t know where to begin.

Quinn brushed her lips to his, soft, exploratory caresses.

He slid his hands up into her hair, cupping the back of her head.

Owen could have lost her today. The kind of people who had a beef with him, they might not hesitate at killing. What if she’d died? What then?

Quinn and Kierra had become part of his life. They owned chunks of his soul. How it’d happened or when, he wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. He was falling in love with Quinn Schaeffer, and he didn’t care. So long as she was alive and safe. Which meant, he needed to do everything in his power to speed up the firing process. The quicker he was on his own, the sooner the pressure would be off him, and Quinn would be safe.

He could flip burgers, mow lawns, do whatever it took, so long as Quinn was safe.

Blake was right. There was life after the badge.

Her hands slid down his back, her nails pressing into him. He parted his lips and she didn’t hesitate. Her tongue swept into his mouth, teasing him. Caressing him.

This was perhaps the best part, getting to learn and see a part of Quinn she didn’t show the world. He’d known that under all her prickly ways was a woman he’d like. Someone he understood. If only she’d let him in.

She nipped his lip then swiped her tongue over the spot, much like he’d done to her last night. Quinn was nothing if not a fast learner.

He clutched her closer.

How easily she could have been taken from him.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered against his mouth. “Is it me?”

“No, no. You’re perfect.”

“Am I not doing something right? Talk to me, Owen.”

“I just...I could have lost you today.” He cupped her face in his hands. She’d had hours to come to terms with the near death experience while he’d had moments to accept his role in the day’s events.

“I’m here. I’m not that easy to kill.” She lifted her hands to his cheeks. “You should know my dad’s been shot dozens of times and he just keeps coming back. I might have inherited some of that. I’m here.”

“I know.”

“We can stop.”

“I don’t ever want to stop.”

Owen pulled her toward him, kissing her lips, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the weight of her body, the warmth.

She was alive, she was there and she wanted him.

Everything else, they’d figure out in time, but right now, he wanted to be with her. Because she’d become the most important thing in his life.

She leaned back enough to grab handfuls of his shirt. He helped her pull it off, then watched her splay her hand against his chest, over his heart. Could she feel the difference? How it beat for her now and not just him?

He picked up her other hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Her wrist.

Quinn laced their fingers together, guiding his hand to her shirt. He took the hint and tugged the material up off her head. He leaned back, the better to appreciate simply looking at her. How the cream-colored bra cupped her breasts. The softness of her body.

She slid one foot to the ground and stood. Her lips were glossy and swollen from their kiss, her gaze full of heat and need.

He swallowed.

Quinn had been forced to settle. He didn’t want her to settle on him. He wanted her to want him the same way he desired her. Wholly and completely.

Owen pushed to his feet and reached out, sliding his hand down the flare of her hip to the waistband of her sweatpants. He went to a knee, kissing her stomach, below her navel, and tugged the soft material down her legs. She braced a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of the clothing before he could strip her completely.

They needed the bedroom, somewhere comfortable.

He pushed to his feet.

Quinn planted her hands against his chest and shoved.

He sat back hard on the sofa, Quinn following him down, her mouth devouring his. She needed him now.

Owen dug out his wallet and tossed it on the cushion beside them. He cupped her mound, his fingers sliding over slippery flesh. So damn wet.

“No,” Quinn wailed.

She grasped his belt and yanked, releasing the catch. He hissed and tabbed his jeans open, his already-hard dick in danger from her over-eager hands. He shoved his pants down and she wrapped her hand around his cock, grinning as though she’d just been given the ultimate prize.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Lust was quickly overpowering his other thoughts.

This was about her needs, not his.

“Like this? Is this good?” Quinn’s breath warmed his cheek.

“Here.” He covered her hand with his, tightening her grip, showing her how he liked to touch himself.

“Does that...feel good?”

“Hell, yes.”

“I want you inside me.”

He squeezed her hand, stilling the motions.

Words like those were powerful enough to make him come on the spot.

“My wallet.” He groped for the leather billfold, finding it by touch.

Quinn took it from him. She’d watched him slide a condom in it earlier. Now she pulled the packet out and handed it to him.

In another setting, at another time, he might offer for her to do the honors, but after words like that? He couldn’t.

Owen ripped the package open and snagged the condom before it fell and got lost in the sofa cushions. Quinn sat back, watching him roll the latex over his erection.

He pulled her forward, his cock bobbing toward her like an erotic homing device.

She grasped him, holding his cock while she fit him against her.

Quinn lifted her gaze to him, staring deep into his eyes. She let go of his cock, her lips parting and lowered herself.

“Damn.” He groaned.

Last night was a blur. He’d tasted and touched, lost himself to the feel of her, what it was like exploring a new level of intimacy. Tonight, he was the one experiencing it.

Quinn braced her hands on his shoulders and moved, her hips undulating, rising and falling, her pussy squeezing him tight.

He grasped the front of her bra, pulling it down until her dusky brown nipples were free from the cups. The material plumped her breasts, holding them prisoner while she fucked his cock.

Owen leaned forward, licking one breast. Her rhythm faltered, but only for a moment, She dug her nails into his shoulder. He toyed with the other breast and she groaned.

She came, spine arched, eyes sightless.

Owen picked her up and laid her on the sofa. Her gaze found his face, eyes dilated from pleasure.

He loved his woman, crazy though it might be to think it so soon.

He thrust and she curled her legs around him, welcoming him into her body.

She was alive. He was still breathing. They’d get through this together.

She dug her nails into his lower back, dragging them up.

His eyes lost focus and he groaned, rocking into her as the orgasm robbed him of everything but the thought:

He loved Quinn Schaeffer, and he’d kill the bastard who thought he could hurt her and get away with it.

Quinn couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a day off. A real one.

She’d still run by the hardware store for the lab, since she had the company card, and put her laptop back into place first thing that morning. Even taking those into consideration, she was still mostly free. No work. No kid activities. She could do whatever she wanted to do. It was a luxury she didn’t normally allow herself. If it weren’t for Owen’s urging, the frowns and muttered curses as she mulled the idea over, she wouldn’t have considered it. Yes, she was still a bit beat up, but she was physically capable.

The Schaeffer family was nothing if not resilient. They took the hits and kept going. That was how they did things. Besides, what other option did she have?

Quinn glanced sideways at Owen.

Was he having second thoughts about letting her pick the day’s activities?

He hadn’t so much as blinked when she said she wanted to go to a scrap yard before they went to set up her things at Duke’s garage. Maybe because he was still twisted up over the new revelation? She understood the gut punch that note had given him in a way she wouldn’t have, had he not made the connection to the stalking and subsequent break-in. They were both being targeted by those people they’d given up everything for.

If she stopped to really think about the betrayal, it was crushing.

They’d both slaved, passed up on life and worked themselves to the bone for their jobs. And for what reason?

He’d believed he was doing the right thing. Something good.

She’d believed she was keeping the family business going. Again, doing good.

Instead, they’d both been taken advantage of and their souls crushed.

They’d get through this. They’d be stronger for it. Because they had each other.

“Any word from your cop friends?” she asked.

“No, I asked them to not tell me anything, even stuff they would otherwise tell a vic.” Owen grimaced, but otherwise that was it.

“Why?” She stopped scanning the piles of scrap and stared at his profile.

“Because I’m not a detective anymore. I need to think about you first. Us. What comes next. I can’t do that, if I’m constantly trying to connect the dots, figure out what I don’t know or who is behind it all.”

“What does come next?” Quinn dreaded that question. Just a few days ago he’d bandied around the idea of going to live with his parents. Hundreds of miles away from her. What would she do without him?

“I put some feelers out, looking into private security.” He hefted the bucket of scrap she’d collected so far.

“What? You mean like the company Ian works for?”

“No, more like rent-a-cop stuff. Building security. Bank security. Lots of places have their own security staff. I’m overqualified, so a job shouldn’t be that hard to find, especially if my captain puts in a good word for me.”

“But that’s not what you want to do.” She grabbed his hand and stopped, staring up in his face, searching for what had changed.

“It’s something to tie me over until I figure out what comes next.” He slid his hand into hers. “Until this stuff with the precinct gets sorted out, I don’t want to make any long-term career plans. Security work means a paycheck, insurance, and it’s probably a lot less life threatening.”

“Yeah, working with Ian seems to be dangerous.”

“Well, doing what they do, it is dangerous.”

“What do you think is going to happen long term? For you?” For me? For us? Where did she fit into his plans? Was it selfish to want to know those things?

“Honestly? I’m not sure. Just taking it one day at a time right now.” He smiled, but it wasn’t as bone-melting. He wasn’t telling her all of his worries, the concerns, how much this ate at him.

“Let’s go.” She didn’t like that answer, or anything to do with their situation.

“Got everything you need?” He rattled the bucket.

“Everything I came for and more. Have you heard from Zach?”

“Not yet, should by the end of the day. Try not to think about it, okay?”

“I could say the same to you.” She turned and started walking, Owen keeping pace with her.

How could she not think about it? He was probably doing the same thing. Rolling around the series of events that had led them here, together. Did he see the same parallels she did?

It was obvious that someone had kept an eye on her for a long time. This wasn’t new or random. And then there was whatever was happening with Owen’s work. It was all coming down on them at once. She was grateful they had each other, though. She didn’t know what she’d have done without Owen. Died, probably.

He kept his hand in hers, that physical connection grounding her. They finished the circuit they were on, paid for the scrap, and loaded up Owen’s car. The silence was companionable, easy, as he pointed them toward the garage.

There were few people in Quinn’s life she enjoyed being around for long stretches of time. Being with Owen was easy. They didn’t have to talk, though conversation was nice. When they did talk, it didn’t feel like work. It was enjoyable. It hadn’t even occurred to her to attempt to spend the day alone. She’d assumed he’d go with her, that they would do things together. She liked being with Owen as much as she liked being by herself.

Owen pulled around back of The Dragon’s Custom Motorcycle and Repair shop. The tin-and-brick building was old, but the paint job of a multicolored snake-like dragon breathing fire was new. She knew Duke had owned the place for a while and did well enough that he had a team of people working for him. Other than that, she was clueless. One didn’t just strike up a lively conversation with Ryuto “Duke” Lopez.

“I’ve never been here.” She leaned forward, eyeing the group of guys in grease-stained clothes and leather standing around a long, chrome bike.

“Their smell is worse than their bite.” Owen winked at her. “Kidding. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Big John first. You like cats?”

“Sure?”

“Good. He’ll probably try to get you to adopt one—or twelve. Decide now if you want one.” Owen got out and circled around to the back of his car.

“A...cat?” Quinn blinked at where Owen used to be. What the hell?

She got out and joined Owen at the back of his car.

Maybe asking Duke to use space here was a bad idea. In theory, it was ideal. She wouldn’t have to worry about mess, they would have a wash station on hand if anything went wrong and the place was completely out of the norm for her. In practice, well, she had no business being at a biker hangout, even if it was owned by Duke.

“I thought you’d be here earlier.”

“Morning, Duke.” Owen reached out and shook hands with the man Quinn knew as Ryuto.

“Hey, Quinn.” Duke didn’t smile but he did wave at her.

“Hey.” She waved back.

Did Duke even know how to smile? Duke had never struck her as unfriendly, but he wasn’t an easy one to get to know. Not that Quinn had gone out of her way to hang out with him.

The whole no smiling thing had worked when Duke had played the part of the Chinese General at the Princess Party, but in real life the man could be a bit unnerving. Focused. Intense. Somewhat like Owen, but where Owen was personable, Duke was a stone wall of silence. Still, he was usually one of the first to arrive at one of Chloe’s get-togethers for Ian’s friends, and Duke was always the last to leave. He’d done more dishes, picked up more trash and wiped more tables down than anyone else. That was mostly how Quinn knew him. They’d tag teamed the dishes enough times he didn’t intimidate her, but she wouldn’t exactly call them friends.

“Levi has space for you this way.” Duke hefted one box and grabbed her bucket of holding.

She followed in Duke’s wake, past the cluster of guys around the bike and through the main garage. Despite the rough exterior, the inside of the garage was power washed concrete, clean work stations and orderly tools. Quinn breathed a small sigh of relief. Cluttered labs gave her imaginary hives thinking about what could be growing, lost or accumulating under all the mess. It was why she’d done everything she could to hang onto a cleaning service for HI-Co. Molly and Anna Beth weren’t the tidiest of people, and their teams took their cues from the ladies.

Duke led her and Owen into the old part of the building, past the showroom of ready-to-buy products, and into a smaller, almost two-car garage space. Was this the original structure? In days gone by, had someone worked on the Model T in this very garage?

Levi sat on a low, rolling stool, staring up at the guts of a sleek sports bike. He waved at her, but never glanced away.

Quinn rather liked Levi, though his tendency to lose himself in whatever he was working on or reading was a bit too head-in-the-clouds for her taste. Still, she enjoyed the few times Levi had dialed in to chat with her. He didn’t talk down to her like Molly or Anna Beth did, and he was fully aware of her mother’s career.

“Here you are. Need anything? A stand? Stool? Table? Chances are Levi’s already laid claim to it, so you’ll have to harass him for it.” Duke pulled a rag out of his pocket and wiped his hands. She’d seen him do that again and again. Some sort of habitual gesture?

“A lamp? Nothing too fancy, but I’d like to focus light if I need to.”

“Over in that bottom drawer, near the gas can,” Levi said.

“I’ll grab it.”

“Thanks again for letting me crash here,” she said.

“Don’t mention it.” Duke produced a clamp lamp from the drawer Levi indicated and brought it over for Quinn. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks.” Quinn clutched the lamp to her chest.

The nerves were back. She’d never worked in a lab space with other people around. When she tinkered—because that’s what she was really doing—it was in private. Away from others. She wasn’t a professional. This wasn’t what her education focused on. She was merely playing in the big kid’s sand box.

“Cool. I’ll be in the front for the next little while if you need me.” Duke pocketed his handkerchief and strode toward the door. He tapped the back of Levi’s head, ruffling the other guy’s hair.

Levi didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he didn’t care.

“What can I do?” Owen’s gaze traveled over the boxes.

“Um, right now, I just need to get everything set up.” She didn’t know what to tell him to do, or if she’d even need help.

“Would it be easier if I left you alone? Maybe went and picked up lunch?”

“That would be perfect, actually.”

“Levi, want anything?”

“A pony,” Levi said without glancing up.

“You want to eat a pony?” Owen asked.

“What?” Levi glanced up, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. “No. What was the question again?”

Quinn chuckled and turned her attention to the boxes. She could probably strip and Levi wouldn’t notice. Until this last week, she’d have thought that an appealing trait. Something she’d prefer. Now she could see the value in having someone around who didn’t miss a single damn thing about her.

To think, two weeks ago, the mere mention of Owen’s name made her groan. Now, she still groaned, but it was with a whole other set of scientific reasons.