Hatched

Chapter Thirty-Eight

July 4th, 2021

0515 hours

Robyn yawned and stretched, eyeing the clock on her wall. The beach house was deadly quiet, the only sound the steady drip of her coffee pot as it brewed. It was still dark outside, just now past five, but the sun would soon rise, and with it another grueling day of grinding away at the case.

She switched on a small tableside lamp by her couch as she waited for the coffee to finish. Hopefully, it would be strong enough to thwart her impending hangover. Nearly an hour before, she'd woken to find the bed empty, but the fact that Quinn wasn't there didn't perturb her. She knew he was worried sick over solving the case, and figured he was off somewhere doing his own investigation.

It would have been nice to wake up next to him, but she understood him on a level that surprised her, and it left her with a sense of serenity. Soon enough, he would walk back through the doors, and they would continue working. Robyn wasn't naïve to think their consummated desire for one another would overshadow what needed to be done. Perhaps that was why they really did get along so well, despite the arguments and constant one-upping. They liked each other, but the case needed solving, and so that was what they had to focus on.

Robyn plodded back to the pot, setting out two large mugs, just as her front door creaked open. Her heart leaped as she glanced over, a sudden relief washing over her as his stormy eyes met hers. His face relaxed at the sight of her, the worry melting away, and a contented smile graced his lips.

"I'm sorry." Quinn rumbled, voice a little hoarse. "I had to check on something." He shrugged out of his suit jacket, carefully folding it, and placing it on her armchair near the door. She noticed he only wore a white undershirt underneath, which meant he'd been in a hurry to get to wherever he'd gone.

"That's alright, I figured you were." Robyn replied, quickly pouring the coffee, and bringing the cups to the couch, where she curled up in a cocoon of throw pillows. "Here." She handed him a mug as he joined her, his progress hindered by the overabundance of pillows.

"I never understood women and their love for these confounded things." He chastised, and she turned to mouth off, but upon seeing the teasing smirk on his face, grinned back, snatching a pillow and whacking him in the head with it.

"They're comfortable." She countered, feigning resentment through her grin.

"They're an abomination." He laughed, letting loose unexpectedly, and tackling her in the pile of them. Laughter erupted from her mouth, the real kind she missed, the kind that only came from interacting with people you love.

Quinn tumbled her around for a moment, making wrestling noises, until her hair and pajamas were so disheveled that she began to feel self-conscious.

"Quinn!" A girly giggle escaped her lips as she struggled to right herself, panting with exertion. "I'm becoming indecent."

Indeed, her thin spaghetti top was now askew, one of her small breasts nearly exposed, and her shorts were riding up uncomfortably between her butt cheeks.

Quinn's brows raised high, nearly to his hairline, and he gazed at her with such fondness her breath hitched. "I love it. I'd love to see more of you, actually-"

She cut him off with another pillow to the face, sending his deep, warm laugh throughout the room.

"The coffee's getting cold." She scolded, though kindly.

"In this humidity? What an odd occurrence that would be." He chuckled, but straightened and grabbed a mug, lifting it to his nose. She watched him as he smelled the aroma before taking a drink.