Page 223 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

Quinn lifted Max’s chin and showed him the locket. “Look. It’s you.”

Max sniffed it, then licked.

“No,” she said. “Respect the art.”

Avery leaned closer. Her expression changed when she saw the miniature. “You did good,” she said to me.

It mattered more than effusion would have.

“Thank you for helping with it,” I said.

“Octavia did most of the yelling.”

“I remember.”

“She said you listened well for a rich man.”

“High praise.”

“From her? Extremely.”

Quinn stood, one hand still on Max’s collar. “We should let you get to bed.”

“I was in bed,” Avery said. “Then a Malinois opened a cabinet.”

Quinn winced. “Steve?”

“Jocko. Steve supervised.”

Avery kissed Quinn’s cheek, scratched Max behind the ears, and gave me a look that contained at least six warnings and three approvals.

“Drive safe,” she said.

“I will.”

Back in the car, Max settled across the back seat. Quinn buckled in, then leaned back and sighed.

“Tired?” I asked.

“No.”

It was clearly a lie.

“You can sleep.”

“I’m on a date. Sleeping is rude.”

“The date has gone well enough to survive it.”

She turned her head toward me, smiling. “You’re confident, aren’t you?”

“Hopeful,” I said.

Her smile softened.

Her hand found mine at each red light. Once, when traffic slowed, she traced her thumb over my knuckles in a lazy motion that made me think of my room, her skin, the way she had said my name when she forgot to be careful.

I wanted her again.