One Little Thing by Kimberly Lang Read Free Book Online

it? I can’t believe I’m going to spend it inside cleaning toilets.”
    Quinn chuckled quietly. “That sounds like my cue to leave before I’m recruited to help.”
    â€œSmart man,” Sophie replied, but she was internally groaning at Aylse’s timing. Not that she wanted to talk more about her public drunkenness, but she did want to know why Quinn had come by . . . Just a neighborly chat? A follow-up on something she’d said last night but didn’t remember? She had questions, but no answers, and she’d lost her chance to ask them now.
    Quinn, seemingly completely at ease and not facing the same internal roiling as she, pulled a battered leash out of his pocket and snapped it to Scoop’s collar. “Thank you for the water.”
    â€œAnytime,” she called as he bounded down the stairs with the same energy as his dog.
    â€œWhat did Quinn want?” Alyse asked once she’d gone back inside.
    Grabbing the handles of the shopping bags, Sophie hiked four of them up and over her shoulders and headed for the kitchen like a loaded pack mule. She thought wistfully of bronzed biceps caging her against the French doors. “Just a glass of water.”
    Sadly, that was probably the truth.
    *  *  *
    Quinn wasn’t exactly proud of himself. Chickening out was hardly something to crow over. While he had an open invitation from Sophie to stop by, now he didn’t know if she even remembered extending that invitation. And while he’d been a little concerned when she hadn’t been on her balcony this morning, her eventual appearance had been encouraging—only for him to find out that she was suffering a hellish hangover from a night she didn’t quite remember.
    Any plans he might have had stalled at that point, making his grand plan sputter into little more than a drive-by beg for a drink of water.
    Smooth moves, buddy.
    He wasn’t that seventeen-year-old dork anymore, and Sophie wasn’t the Homecoming Princess, either, but that knowledge didn’t keep him from spending the rest of the day in a high school flashback strong enough to make the entire idea of asking her out seem ridiculous.
    It was embarrassing.
    But he wasn’t one to give up easily, and he wasn’t about to lose his chance to ask her out by dicking around.
    Which meant he was just going to have to suck it up and do it. Tonight.
    Scoop gave him a sad look and retreated to her cushion with a bone once she realized he was going out and she was staying home. “Walking the dog”
would
give him an easy excuse to be out by Sophie’s, but he didn’t want to stoop to subterfuge or have Scoop’s toenails destroy Sophie’s hardwood floors.
    It was a short walk from his place, and this time of year it didn’t get dark until nearly nine, so it was cooler, yet still light. The Palmer House, though, was dark, both the porch and the interior lights off. One window on the top floor, though, was lit, and a car was in the small lot. He had to assume Sophie was home.
    A new intercom panel jutted out of the wall to the left of the door, and Quinn pushed the button. A few seconds later, Sophie’s voice came out of the speaker. “Hello?”
    â€œIt’s Quinn. Are you busy?”
    There was a long pause. “Give me a minute and I’ll be down. Make yourself at home, okay?” A buzzer sounded and he heard the lock click open.
    He’d gotten a glimpse of the place this morning, but he’d been more focused on Sophie, so not much had registered. This front room was large, with a fireplace in the far corner near French doors that opened out onto the back porch. An archway opened into another large room that basically looked like a mirror image of this one. Built-in bookcases lined two of the walls, and the polish on the floors and woodwork glistened in the dimming light. A faint aroma of lemon polish and cleaner hung in the