That hadn’t occurred to her. “Were you?”
“No.” The declaration came out with more vehemence than she’dever seen in Quinn. “I was worried that’s what you’d think.”
“I don’t expect special treatment or lousy treatment.”
Quinn laughed. “Right. That’s fair. I promise you’re not getting either.Well, maybe a little special treatment.”
She smiled. “I can live with that.”
“Not that I think sex and romance can make up for work delays, orthat one should have anything to do with the other, but maybe I could try tomake it up to you later?”
The question was playful, but she liked the forwardness of it.Quinn seemed to be coming out of her shell. Into her own. She appreciated thegeneral sentiment, but also what it meant for her. “In that case, I’m very,very upset.”
Quinn shook her head, expression grave. “We can’t have that.”
Amanda folded her arms and resisted smiling. “What are youproposing to do about it?”
“Dinner, for sure. Maybe a massage. Your wish will be mycommand.”
She didn’t need that, but she was enjoying the game. More thanshe would have expected, to be honest. Perhaps because it was a game. Such anunexpected surprise. “Pick me up at six?”
Quinn grinned. “Done.”
* * *
Quinn tiptoed from the bedroom to the kitchen. She wouldn’t go sofar as to say the construction snag was a good thing, but she had no complaintsabout the evening that unfolded as a result. She puttered around the kitchen,wishing she had the skills to make Amanda a fancy breakfast. She flipped on thecoffee pot and turned. Amanda stood in the doorway, looking sex tossed andbeautiful. “I would have brought you coffee in bed.”
“That’s not necessary.”
She glanced at the pot to make sure it was going, then gaveAmanda a kiss. “That’s what makes it fun.”
“You’re going to spoil me and make me lazy.”
“A little spoiling won’t make you lazy, I promise.” She kissedher again. “You should let me spoil you so I can prove my point.”
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Maybe.”
“I should warn you that spoiling will not extend to homemadebreakfast. But I did pick up bagels yesterday.”
“Bagels definitely count as spoiling, but I think I’ll start withcoffee.”
She gestured to the small eating area in the corner. “Makeyourself comfortable.”
To her credit, Amanda didn’t argue. She pulled out a chair andsat, tucking one foot under her. Everything about it—from having Amanda therein the first place to how adorable she looked with her elbows propped on theIKEA table Quinn bought to fit in the tiny space—made her feel about twentyyears old. She grabbed a pair of mugs from the cupboard and poured coffee.
Amanda accepted, taking the cup in both hands and breathing inthe steam that wafted up. “Thank you.”
Quinn smiled. It was her turn to say, “You’re easy.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
She sat with her own cup and mimicked the gesture. She couldn’tdeny the magic of the first cup of the day. After taking a sip, she set it downand leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. “So, I was thinking.”
Amanda regarded her with alarm. “What?”
“Why do you look so freaked out?”
“Nothing. Sorry. What were you thinking?”
Quinn shook her head. “No, you can’t look at me like I justsuggested we rob a bank, then pretend you didn’t.”
Amanda laughed. “Too many years of teenage children.”
Oh. That made sense. And far more harmless than the dozen or sodirections her thoughts had taken. “See, I’ll give you that one.”
Amanda lifted her cup. “Thank you.”
“Did you think I was going to suggest we rob a bank?”
“No, my kids weren’t that kind of trouble. More the bring homethe class iguana for summer vacation without telling me type.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Cal?”
Amanda shook her head. “You’d think.”
She had this vivid image of Daniella with her hair in braids anda cheerful grin on her face, holding an iguana the size of her arm. “Is it okayto say I’m sorry I wasn’t around for that?”
“As long as that’s not what you’re suggesting we do now.”
She looked up at the ceiling. “Well, now that you mention it.”
Amanda lifted a finger. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of getting out in nature,not the other way around.”
She set down her coffee. “Go on.”
“I have a cabin up in the Adirondacks. It’s rustic, but the spotis beautiful. There’s a lake and a fireplace and it’s off grid.”
Amanda closed one eye. “What do you mean by ‘off grid,’ exactly?”
“Running water, but no electricity or cell service.”
“Huh.”
“Too rustic?”
“It’s not the rustic so much as the off-grid part.”
She’d been worried about the lack of electricity, not the beingonline part. “Really?”
“It’s the mom thing. It’s hard for me to be unreachable.” Shelifted both hands. “I know, I know. It’s silly given they’re practicallyadults.”
“It’s not silly.” She just hadn’t thought about it. “It’s notsomething on my radar, you know?”
“I’m not saying no, it’s just, um, out of my comfort zone.”
Quinn took her hand. Even if part of her hated the idea of neverbeing able to unplug completely, she didn’t want Amanda to feel pressured to doit to make her happy. “It’s okay. I understand.”
She thought that might be the end of it, but Amanda shook herhead. “No.”
“No?”
Amanda sat up straight and got this serious look on her face.Paired with her messy hair and the rumpled T-shirt, it made Quinn’s heart flipuncomfortably in her chest. “I want to go.”
“You really don’t have to—”
“I want to go. I mean it. The whole point of this is puttingmyself first.”
The prospect of having Amanda all to herself for a couple of dayswas thrilling. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely sure.”
“We can wait until the kids go back to school, but I thought youmight prefer to get away while the bakery is still closed.” She offered a halfsmile. “And the weather is still nice and warm.”
“You’re right. Sooner is better. And Cal and Daniella areperfectly capable of fending for themselves. I worry too much.”
Quinn tipped her head to one side. “I know better than to have anopinion on that.”
“Oh, really?” Amanda folded
