Waking up on Monday mornings sucks. After I showed weakness and ran into the ocean yesterday—because damn if my Peeping Tom neighbors are scoring a picture of my girl without her top on—we lay around, reading and eating.

“I don’t want to go back to real life. Can we stay here forever?” Quinn stretches, my sheets tangled between her legs.

I place the coffee mug on her nightstand and sit down, rubbing her bare ass. “Promise me you’ll never sleep in pajamas ever again?”

She peeks through the long dark strands of hair that have fallen over her head. “Well, that could be a problem in the future.”

“Why?”

She turns around, not embarrassed in the slightest that her tits are hanging out. God, I fucking love my girl’s confidence. “Do you think Layla and Vance sleep naked?”

“Um, no. Imagine if Payne walked in. I mean Via wouldn’t understand anything, but Payne’s first glimpse at tits should not be his mom’s. That’s all kinds of wrong.”

She smiles and widens her eyes as though I’m missing the obvious.

“Oh, shit. You’re taking us into the kid zone? Baby, what’s happening here is amazing. I’ve got a sold sign around my neck, but I’m not converting into a four-bedroom in Pasadena.” I chuckle.

Her chest rises and falls, the smile knocked off her face. “I wasn’t talking about now, but I guess I see where you stand on that issue.” She slides across the bed, exiting on my side, disappearing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Guess I fucked up,” I mumble. “We could start with a dog or something?” I call out.

Only silence greets me.

“I gave you my favorite mug and everything.” I fall to the bed, deflated that this morning started out on the wrong foot after such a great day yesterday.

“I guess I should feel special?” She beelines it out of the bathroom, pulling on her shorts.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’ll drive you home.” I sit up, sliding to the edge.

“Maybe you should call your special Uber guy for one-night stands.”

“Baby, I told him weeks ago I wouldn’t need him anymore.” I grin.

Her face drops. “You seriously had an Uber guy?” she says with disgust. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate my joke.

“I’m a gentleman.” I grip her hips so she can’t go anywhere.

She still doesn’t find me funny, so I drop the cocky act. “Sorry, of course kids are in the cards for us. I told you, you’re it for me. I just have to get there. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Here’s a tip. Don’t joke about one-night stands when I’m already pissed off at you.” She juts her hip out.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a moron.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Yep, you are.” She plants a chaste kiss on my lips. “I’ll forgive you.”

I bring her down to my lap, my hand wrapping around her neck, pulling her in for a real kiss.

* * *

“Everything’s okay though?” Leo asks me over Bluetooth in the car.

“Yeah, I may have overreacted.” I drive into downtown L.A. on the way to my office. Never in my life have I wanted a day to be over more than this one.

“You? Never.”

I don’t bother responding to that. “I have to work my magic and get Marisol’s brother up here from Mexico. He’s going to be her donor.”

“That’s great.” Barking dogs ring out over the line.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Tee and I are doing a catalog for Canine Couture. The shoot is today. You should stop by.”

“Yeah, no, thanks. I love Coop, but dogs are messy and sloppy.”

He chuckles, and my car pulls into the parking lot of my office building. “I’m glad you guys are okay. Just checking in. I have your bottle of whiskey, by the way.”

“Keep it. I’m pulling into the office now. I’ll catch you later.”

“See you.”

I click the Bluetooth off, park in my reserved spot and head up to my office.

Greg is already waiting in a chair with Victoria when I get there. He’s in his usual khaki pants and plaid button-down. Since he doesn’t see clients, he gets away with business casual.

“Good morning.” I say, walking into my office.

Victoria follows, Greg doesn’t.

“So, thanks for letting me take off early on Friday again.”

I take off my suit jacket, hanging it on a hanger outside my bathroom door, and sit down in my chair, pulling out my laptop and book from my bag.

“Why is Greg here?” I ask, disregarding her thank you.

“Something about the new division. He wants to know if he can talk to you for a few minutes. Do you want me to send him in?”

“Yeah, but first sit down.” I motion to the chair on the other side of my desk.

She takes a seat, her legs locked together, her hands clasped in her lap.

“I need to get a guy a visa from Mexico to come here to give Marisol a kidney. Can you get me all information I need to get it done on this end? I have someone working on it in Mexico. It has to be quick.”

She nods and then stands. “I’ll have something to you by lunch.”

“Perfect.”

She leaves the office and then stops, circling back around. “Oh, your cousin called again. He wants a lunch date today.”

“How busy am I?”

“You can fit it in.”

“Okay, confirm it with him, but set it up here. I don’t want to deal with going out in public and evading all his crazy fans.”

Her eyebrows crinkle. “There might be some fans in here, too. I looked him up online after we spoke about him last time.”

“Don’t you start loving on my crazy cousin. He’s too young for you.”

She brings her hand to her waist and cocks a hip out. “Just how old do you think I am?”

She leaves the office before I can respond, which is probably better. My jokes haven’t been hitting their mark today.

Greg takes Victoria’s place and if my busy morning is a sign of things to come today, I’ll lose my mind. Especially since all I really want is to be with Quinn, deep inside of her.

“Jagger, did you read the book?” Greg sits down, his knee bouncing.

“I’m halfway through. It’s good, but…”

“What?” His hands tighten into fists and he looks like he’s about to explode.

“I think it would cost a fortune to make into a film. I’m not denying it has potential, but we have to factor in what it will cost to do it right. We can’t go into the red on our first venture or my dad will shut this division down before we even have a chance to get it off the ground.”

“So, you’re going to go with Trina’s idea? Might as well call up Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, circa the nineties sugar-sweet romantic comedies. Like in all of New York, they’d be emailing each other. Give me a break. How unrealistic.”

I lean back in my chair, not mentioning that his sci-fi book isn’t near the realm of reality either. I steeple my hands, remembering my fingers drilling in and out of Quinn on my kitchen table yesterday. We’d been laughing, me trying to get her to try my duck from the takeout Chinese restaurant. Somehow, I went from having a piece of meat hanging off chopsticks in front of her mouth to her being my dinner, stripped down on my table. I can’t imagine ever tiring of having sex with Quinn this much. She’s one of a kind.

“Jagger!” Greg’s voice rises. The guy is passionate, I’ll give him that.

“I’m not making any decisions right now. I have to hear Trina’s and Hank’s pitches still, so relax. If I was you though, I’d be finding something that will cost less to produce.”

“Fine.” His eyes light up and you’d think I just agreed to doing the movie. “I’m still holding out hope for this one though.”

There’s no sense arguing about it, so I nod before reminding him, “Meeting at three today in the conference room, and Greg…” He turns around, pushing up his dark-rimmed glasses. “There will be criticism. You need to learn to see the other side and only argue the points you think are most important.”

He nods, and I let a sigh escape, knowing that today’s meeting will be intense.

* * *

“Lunch!” Victoria holds up two paper bags and I spot the green stamp on them.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Hey.” She places them down on the table, taking out salad, grilled chicken, vegetables, and hummus. Not one cheeseburger or fry. Now, I eat healthy, but this is flavorless crap. “He’s an athlete preparing for the Winter Games. Show some support.”

“Support him?” I rise from my desk, my phone dinging and alerting me to a text message. I pick it up. “I’ve done nothing but support him. Me being hungry in an hour isn’t supporting him. Not to mention you’re the one who will deal with me being crabby.”

She stops all movement, staring over at me. “So, a normal workday then?”

Fuck me.

“When is Grady going to be here?”

Victoria picks up her phone to check the time. “About five minutes.”

“Damn it,” I murmur.

She sends a picture. Fuck me.

Five minutes. Enough time to hammer one out in my private bathroom.

“Looks great, Victoria. You can leave.”

She places the plates on the table, her face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you need to do? Have phone sex with Quinn?”

“Maybe if you get the hell out.”

She laughs, grabbing the two empty bags and hightailing it out of the office.

I head to my bathroom, my thumb already poised over Quinn’s number.

“I figured I’d be hearing from you,” she says, all breathy and sweet.

“Get me off, baby.” I unbutton my slacks, sitting down and fisting my cock. “I’ve got five minutes.”

It only takes her three. She really is a whiz with words.

* * *

Five minutes later, I’m coming out of my bathroom, drying my hands, and my cousin walks in with his scruffy hair, a casual jeans and t-shirt. Would it kill the guy to dress up a little?

“Make sure he’s washed his hands.” Victoria pops her head in the door for a second.

Grady laughs, his hand weaving through his long strands.

“Bye, Victoria.”

I cross the room, my hand out between us, and we hug. Man, he’s got more muscle than the last time I saw him. He’s not as tall as me, but close. Those Kale genes are strong.

“What’s up, cuz?” He glances to the table. “Man, did you order this?”

“No, Victoria did.”

He looks back toward the doorway. “Talk about a hot piece.”

“Eyes forward, she’s my assistant.”

“She’s not my assistant.”

“You’re not fucking my assistant, Grady.” I sit down in the chair, my stomach already rejecting the idea of what it’s going to have for lunch.

Grady does the same, except he’s already opening the containers.

“Eat much?” I ask.

“I’m an athlete, I’m always hungry.” He pours the clear dressing that’s probably made with water over his lettuce, grabs two of the grilled chicken breasts and starts eating.

“Don’t you ever want a cheeseburger?” I sit back in my chair because I have no hopes of eating that crap. Victoria can order me a steak and a potato from somewhere.

“Are you asking if I eat junk food?” He shoves a forkful of lettuce in his mouth and chews for a minute. “Yeah, but I have less than a year until the Games. No way.”

“Sounds like a suck-ass life.”

Grady wipes his mouth and leans back in his chair. “Don’t hold back.”

“I never do. So why are you here?” I don’t know Grady all that well, mostly because I live in L.A. and he tends to live where the snow survives year-round.

“I need an agent.”

“I’m not a sports agent.”

“Yeah, but you can get me an in with the best guy. I need to build myself up now with endorsements leading into the Games to carry me through because this will be my last.”

My shoulders fall. “Your last?”

He nods. “I’m cutting out after this. I’m going to win gold and get the hell out of Dodge before…”

He leaves it open-ended and we both know what he’s not saying. He lives with the fear of a major injury every time he sets his board on the edge. I wonder if he even enjoys it anymore.

Then it all clicks—this is why he came to me. I was the one with him and his buddy that night. The one who saw the torment and fear weasel its way in, making a new home inside of him. Stripping him of the man he was. It’s been almost nine years and it still haunts him. I can tell.

“I’ll get you an appointment,” I say.

He smiles and digs back into his food. “Perfect. I knew I could count on you.”

Making miracles, that’s my job.

Now, I need one for Marisol.