“That tarpon had to be a monster.”
I smiled up at him through my lashes. “Was it even a tarpon?” I knew it had been big—it had snapped his line, but I had such fun teasing him, letting him think I doubted him.
“No, I’m telling you, Quinn—”
“Of course.”
He glared at me, but his eyes were laughing. I enjoyed seeing this side of him. Too often all that was visible was the cold, contained senior special agent.
“More wine?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be driving later, so I’d better stop now. I want to keep a clear head.”
“That hardly seems fair. Especially on New Year’s Eve.” I wasn’t going to push him, though. From the little he’d said, and from my own background check of him, I’d learned his mother had had a problem with alcohol. I knew him well enough by now to know he worried about tha
