Free Knock Me Off My Feet by Susan Donovan Page A

spun around with her arms flung wide, the laughter pouring out of her. "You're me! I mean, the me I'm supposed to be! Hey, you wanna take over the column?"
    "Nope." Quinn grabbed the bottle of wine off the table and gestured to the back door. "How about we sit on the deck?"
    He put his palm against the small of her back and guided her to the door. She twirled away from him.
    "You're always doing that, pushing me somewhere, steering me. Why do you do that?"
    He dropped his hand and his eyes flashed at her. "I was being polite and escorting you to the goddamn deck."
    She snorted and reached for the door before he could. "After you, Detective," Audie said. As he walked past, she placed her hand on the curve of his back and it was warm and hard—and Audie decided right then that she probably shouldn't have any more wine.
    They made themselves comfortable in cushioned patio chairs at an oval cedar table. Audie looked out over a narrow manicured yard glowing under tastefully placed outdoor lights. The weed-free grass was cut short and looked like green velvet, and the entire space was set off with boxwoods and mulch along the fence line.
    She sighed in appreciation.
    "This is a very cute house, Quinn. How long have you lived here?"
    "About five years now."
    "Have you ever been married?"
    "Nope. Unless you count Stanny-O."
    Audie giggled and poured herself some more wine. One more glass wouldn't make her lose her head over Stacey Quinn, certainly. "Have you ever lived with anyone?"
    "I'm living with someone now," he said casually. "Why do you ask?"
    Audie put down the wine bottle rather forcefully and blinked at him. "Is she at Ace Hardware stocking up on mulch while you entertain me tonight?"
    Quinn shook his head and sniggered. "Nope. Rocky Datillio is at his fiancée's tonight. He'll be moving out for good when he gets married in a few weeks."
    "Oh."
    "Can I ask you something, Audie?"
    "Mmm… " She was taking a nice long draw from her wineglass.
    "Why were you crying upstairs?"
    She put down her drink and began to remove the bobby pins from her hair, then tossed them in a pile on the table. She raked her fingers through her waves and massaged her scalp, waiting for her emotions to subside.
    "I get a little sentimental when I'm hungry and my feet hurt," she finally said.
    "I give a mean foot massage." Quinn took a sip of his wine and looked out into the yard, listening to the neighborhood night noises of cars, barking dogs, garbage can lids, and voices. He waited a long while before he felt her feet plunk down in his lap.
    Quinn touched her ankles with reverence before he pushed her feet aside. "Wait. Come here to me."
    He pulled Audie by the hands and guided her to the edge of the table, where she hopped up, letting her feet dangle. Quinn positioned his chair in front of her and sat down.
    "There. That's better." He placed her feet squarely in his lap.
    Audie giggled until she grew accustomed to his touch, then let her eyelids drift down in heavy pleasure. In silence, Quinn rolled his fingers into the ball of one foot and pressed his thumb along her arch. Then he stroked the top of the foot, paying lavish attention to each toe—pulling, bending up, and pushing down—until little electric shocks of pleasure raced up from the thin bones of her feet.
    Then he started the cycle of touch all over again, and soon Audie's breathing fell in sync with his movements and she felt her muscles uncoil from her soles to her shoulders.
    When he went to the other foot, she giggled again but was soon returned to bliss with his rhythmic touch.
    "This is wonderful, Quinn."
    "Yes, it is."
    Audie realized her eyes had been closed all this time, and she opened them to admire his efforts.
    "Oh!" The little exclamation came out involuntarily. It seemed Quinn's lion-at-breakfast look was back, but this time she'd served herself to him on a plate. He held her gaze as his touch suddenly changed.
    Audie felt the hot, firm pressure move to her ankles now,