Free Bad Boyfriend by K. A. Mitchell

button again to escape a commercial, Quinn said, “You’re quiet.”
    “I’m digesting.”
    Quinn gave him that smile—the one that was both laughing at and with Eli. “What?”
    “Information.”
    Twelve—okay, thirteen—hours of acquaintance didn’t give Eli any more rights to Quinn’s past or to be pissed about being used to make someone jealous. As for the second, Eli was looking forward to it. Quinn was a nice guy, and it didn’t take much to figure Peter, the bastard—apologies to the nice Claire Laurent—had hurt Quinn. There was one thing Eli hadn’t been able to work out on his own, and he didn’t know if Alyssa would have full intel on it.
    As they pulled into the parking lot, he unbuckled his seat belt and popped the door. “Just one question.”
    “Just one?” That damned smirk again.
    “Peter—the ex-boyfriend you brought me here to make jealous—did he get that woman pregnant before or after he dumped you?”

Chapter Six
    Quinn didn’t know how long he sat in the car. But the car door slam was a distant echo and Eli had already disappeared into the Brickdoor Tavern when Quinn managed to shake off his shock. Why he should keep being surprised at anything Eli did, Quinn didn’t know, but he’d better follow Eli before he had a chance to leave the rest of the family gaping like freshly caught fish.
    He caught his breath in relief when he found Eli in the entranceway, hanging his denim blazer on the coat rack.
    Eli cocked his head at Quinn. “It’s kind of warm in here.” He stripped off the hooded blue sweater, too, then unfastened the next button on his sport shirt to reveal the silver chain and began rolling up his sleeves. The shirt was shot through with metallic stitching and narrow shining stripes of bright blue against the black background. Quinn had been wanting to run his finger over the lines to see if they were as satiny as they looked. Actually, he desperately wanted his hands on Eli, and the shirt would be a nice excuse.
    But the sound of laughter and conversation reminded Quinn why they were here. “She doesn’t know,” he whispered.
    “Who?”
    “Peter’s wife. She doesn’t know…about me. About us. Me and Peter.”
    Now Eli looked like he should be the one staring back from behind the glass at the National Aquarium. His mouth opened and closed. “Are you kidding me?”
    Quinn shook his head.
    “That is the—”
    “There you guys are.” Of course Chrissy would find them.
    Everything behind Quinn’s rib cage shrank under the familiar combination of anxiety and guilt. Because she should know. Had a right to know what might be waiting for her down the road, but he could never be the one to tell her.
    She shifted Gabe to her other shoulder. “Eli. It’s so nice to meet you. Alyssa told us your name since Quinn here’s been keeping you a secret.”
    “Yeah, he’s a secretive guy, our Quinn.” Eli gave her a big smile and put his arm around Quinn’s waist. “Gonna have to talk to him about that.”
    “Well at least he finally brought you around to meet the family. And speaking of, here. I think you’re the only one who hasn’t held him. Grab the opportunity now. I just changed him.”
    She stuck the baby into Eli’s chest, and he grabbed him. He looked like he’d never handled anything as exotic as a one-month-old baby, but after a bit of juggling, he tucked Gabe onto his shoulder, neither hand losing contact for an instant.
    Chrissy laughed. “You should have tried holding him in that satin gown Claire lent us. He was slippery as an eel.” She put her hand on Quinn’s arm. “I want to thank you for being his godfather. It means a lot to us both.”
    “He couldn’t refuse. Not after you asked him in front of everyone at Dad’s birthday.” Peter came up behind his wife, crowding the little vestibule.
    “Quinn’s been telling me how proud he was that you asked him,” Eli said, a light sway to his hips that could have been all about the baby,