Quinn (The Waite Family) by Kathi S. Barton Page A

disinterest as he could fake. “Which one? The girl from accounting? She’s not really my type, but if what you say is right then—”
    “Damn it, Andrew, you know damn good and well I mean Quinn Waite. That girl has it bad for you and you know it. What are you going to do about it?”
    Drew got up, refilled his glass, and downed the entire thing. He had his back to his grandda thinking it would be easier to say what he needed to without looking at him. He hated to lie more than anything, especially to his man.
    “Quinn…Miss Waite and I have come to an understanding. We’ve decided that it just wouldn’t work out for us. She will stay out of my way and I’ll stay away from her. And if you want me to stay for dinner then you won’t say another word about it.”
    He heard his grandda snort, but he didn’t say anything. After several minutes Millie came into the room to announce dinner. They were seated at the table before Drew trusted himself to speak.
    “There was a break-in at the Howard building just before I came over here. Alyssa wouldn’t let me handle it for her. She and Cain were on their way over when she called me. Did you hear anything about it on the news?”
    Drew didn’t think he was going to answer and was sorry for that. Drew loved his grandda a great deal and didn’t want to have him upset with him. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and a little brittle. Drew wanted to sob.
    “I did. Someone had broken one of the larger windows on the second floor. Not too much damage. The police seem to think it was children playing where they shouldn’t have been.” Millie served the pot pie before he continued. “I don’t think so. That second floor window is fairly high and they would have had to have a strong arm to throw something that far up.”
    Drew thought he might be right. “Did they mention how the glass was broken? I mean, aren’t those window panes almost ten feet wide and at least that tall?”
    He grunted with his mouth full of the succulent chicken and broth. Drew took his own bite and closed his eyes in ecstasy. The potatoes and carrots were perfectly done and the chicken was as tender and as juicy as anything he’d ever eaten. The white gravy was thick and hot and just spicy enough that he could taste the bits of herbs used to make it. The crust was so flaky it was like eating slivers of crusty bread dipped in the broth. It was several minutes before either of them even bothered with the homemade bread sliced and steaming sitting in the middle of the table or even looked at the salad that was supposed to accompany the pie.
    “Damn, this is the best dinner. I wonder if there’s a recipe, or do you think that she has been making it for so long that she knows it by heart?” Grandda took another bite full before going on. “I tell you, son, I could make a mint off this stuff and once she throws in her homemade bread…well, there won’t be a plate in the world without at least one or the other on it.”
    Drew agreed. He took several more bites before he finally took a large bite of salad. This, too, was a work of art. Fresh greens with small, cut up vegetables, salad dressing that was made by the cook and not purchased from a store. Croutons that were still slightly warm and toasty sat on top with bits of fresh mozzarella too.
    It wasn’t until they were served their cherry crunch that his grandda brought up Quinn again. Drew felt so bad that he told him what had happened between the two of them, well, most of it anyway. He wasn’t sure why, but he supposed it was because he needed to tell someone.
    “She all right then? Poor girl.” He shook his head. “You ever meet her ex-husband? What was his name…Wicket, Carl Wicket. Heard tell he was one sorry son-of-a-bitch. Hit her too.”
    Drew had heard that too. “How long were they married?”
    “I would say about two, maybe three years. That other girl, Sydney, the one in the Special Forces, she came home on leave and