Fourteen
“How do you think it’s going?”
Layla’s nails dug into Carey’s forearm.
“I don’t know.” Glancing at the men grouped around Jase’s Mac, he said drily, “At least Wellman hasn’t left yet, right?”
“Look! He’s tapping his toes,” she hissed, her nails digging deeper. “Does that mean he likes the demo?”
As if he’d heard her, Quinn glanced almost pleadingly at Carey, his expression saying, “Get her out of here. Please.”
With a low chuckle, Carey detached her fingers from his arm. “Go for a walk with me?” Seeing she was about to refuse, he lied, “My leg is hurting a little. I should stretch it.”
She immediately leapt to her feet. “Sure, hon. Let’s go.”
Once outside, she said ruefully, “I was freaking out, wasn’t I?”
Carey chuckled. “Just a bit.”
“Do you blame me? This could be the
