“By ‘stupid move,’ Dee, I meant mine. I should’ve warned you Quinn was here.”

I tugged on my jeans. “Well, I should have woken up enough to think about checking before throwing open the door.”

“I don’t think he got a good look at you. He did the right thing—turned away.”

“It’s not my face I’m worried about. It’s this.” I lifted the police college shirt for her to read before I refolded it into my bag. “That he did see.”

“Shit.”

A soft knock at the door.

“Dee?” Quinn.

I asked him to wait while I looked around for my wig and contacts. When I had them on, I called a welcome. He slid inside. Evelyn hesitated, then left. Quinn stood there as I pulled on my socks.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just glanced up when the door opened. And thanks—you know, for looking away when you realized I…”

I let the sentence fade, and picked up my toothpaste. Before I could slip into the bathroom, he grabbed my hand.

“Dee? Whatever I saw? There could be a few explanations, and I have no intention of trying to figure out which one is right.”

“Thanks.”

“How about a trade-off?” He smiled. “One question. Ask me anything.”

When I shook my head, his smile faltered.

“Sure. Okay. I mean, maybe there’s nothing you want—”

“Your eyes,” I said, managing a small smile. “What color are your eyes?”

His grin returned full wattage. “Sure. I can do that—better than that.” He dropped his head forward, reached up and took out his contacts. “There.”

He looked at me. His eyes were light green, the color of new grass.

Quinn moved closer, his head tilting, lips moving down toward mine—

The door banged open and we both jumped back.

“Evelyn told me,” Jack said, by way of introduction. He started crossing the room, then met Quinn’s eyes. A grunt, and his gaze dropped to Quinn’s hand, still cupping his contacts.

“Christ’s sake,” Jack muttered. “Show-and-tell? This isn’t kindergarten.”

“He was just—” I began.

“Leaving,” Jack said. “I need to talk to Dee.”

“It wasn’t Quinn’s—”

“Fault. Yeah. I heard.” He jerked his thumb at the door. “Go call your sources. Dubois doesn’t respond by noon? We call it off.”

Quinn put in his contacts, then squeezed my hand and left.

“There was no need to talk to him that way,” I said. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Besides taking out his contacts?”

“He felt bad, and he wanted to reciprocate—”

“Yeah. He wants to reciprocate. Middle of a fucking job. Starts playing ‘I’ll show you mine.’”

“Actually, I think I showed him mine first.”

“Not on purpose.” Jack moved closer, the edge leaving his voice. “You okay? Evelyn said he saw you. Saw your shirt.”